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@mamaauthoress this interaction is going to be a complete disaster and I’m sooo looking forward to it!  Hopefully both Basil and Ruan will grow as a result of this much needed practice in socialization!

Also, I’m formally begging you for Ruan art lol

Basil:

The man shakes his head, face wrinkled in a frown.  I can’t tell if I’ve said something wrong, or if he just always looks like that.  Maybe both?  I curl my lip in return.

“I’ve never seen anything like it. Is it … bewitched somehow, to clean the air you breathe?”

Huh?

What?

I wrinkle my nose behind my respirator.  “Um … no. It’s not ‘bewitched.’ It’s just science.” He tenses uncomfortably, and a tiny twinge of guilt pricks at the back of my mind.  I don’t think he meant any harm.  He’s clearly from a very backwards timeline, and maybe he was just curious.  Still, I don’t like being accused like that.

“Clearly we have different views on science,” the man mumbles.  He stares up at the ceiling.

“Maybe.”  I avert my gaze.

“So …” the words are barely squeaked out.  He clears his throat. “So, where are you from?”

Where am I from?

I squint up at him.  That’s kind of a dangerous question, but I think he’ll be safe.  He doesn’t know what a respirator is, so he probably knows nothing about Project Goldenseal.

“Spire.”  The words catch in my throat.  “I come from Spire, the shining white city of the West.  I’m very fortunate to live there, because it’s the greatest city in the Confederation, and the Confederation is the greatest country on -” The words suddenly die on my tongue.  That sounded an awful lot like bragging, and I think maybe he wouldn’t appreciate it too much, given that he’s from such a backwards timeline.  I avert my gaze, but it’s too late.

“Not that it’s something to be proud of or anything like that.  I don’t even get to see it that much because I’m not allowed to go outside – unless I’m with Skia or someone, and that only happens maybe once a month if I’m lucky…” I wince.  I’m so uncomfortable I’m running my mouth, and I feel a little bit awful because I hate it when other people talk too much.

“Besides, only rich people get to live in the ‘shining white’ part,” I mutter.

I stare at my feet, mouth glued shut.  I don’t know why this man makes me so uncomfortable. Even worse, I don’t know why I even care to begin with.  I’m pretty good at making people go away.  Really, all it takes is a one word answer and well aimed glare, and they’ll leave you alone forever.  But this guy is different.  I almost feel like I have to impress him – I almost want him to stay, and that scares me.

Unlike overly friendly strangers in the past, he’s not here to gawk at me.  And he hasn’t shown any signs of pity, so that’s ruled out too.

I hug my knees into my chest.  Why is he talking to me?  It’s almost like he doesn’t want to go, even though I’ve given him so many opportunities.  Is he trying to be nice to me?  I haven’t done anything to impress him or make him happy, so he probably just wants something from me.

But on the other hand…

I don’t really know why, but every once in awhile, someone will be nice to me just because.  No strings attached.  I think he might be one of those people, because a little part of me is scared that he’ll get angry and leave.  And if I know anything from experience, the part where he’s supposed to get angry and leave has already passed, so I have no idea why he’s still sticking around.

The air is taut between us, and the silence is killing me.  I feel like there’s something I should say, but I don’t want too talk just for the sake of talking.  I don’t want to be one of those people.

Oh.

Of course.

How could I forget?

I squeeze my eyes shut, just in case.  Just in case this was the last straw and he finally decides to leave for good.  “What about you?”