Uncomfortable questionsMature

“It’s Selene,” I finally said as I brought my mug and tea pot over to the table. With his cigarette nestled between his lips he got up and pulled out my chair like it was a normal thing to do.

“Just call me Bastian.” He smiled.

“Why are you a shut in?” From the look on his face I could tell that he already knew the answer. He wasn’t the kind of person to ask questions to find out answers, he only asked to confirm what he already knew. It had been plenty of time for him to do a full background check on me if he felt the necessity to do so since our last visit and from the tone of his voice when he asked the question he more than likely had.

“Why do you care?” I asked. The way his lips turned down made me realize what he wanted.  “I can tell that you already know the answer to your own question so why should I tell you anything?”

“You aren’t telling me anything, it’s for you,” he said. Our eyes locked for a few moments, neither of us moving, no words were exchanged.

“I don’t want to tell myself anything either.”

“Fine; how long have you been inside?”

“Almost two years now.” I sipped at my tea while he fiddled with one of the cigarette butts in the ash tray. That was the last thing we said to each other during that visit. 

The End

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