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The thunderstorm brought you not only to anxiety but to primitive horror. It was not just fear, but a real panic attack. Each clap of thunder brought more and more fear and pain into you. And flashes of lightning are an imminent disaster. My breathing turned into convulsive jerks, and my heart was pounding like crazy. You tried to calm down but it was all to no avail. This tram has been with you since childhood. Psychologists shrugged their shoulders and prescribed sedatives, but they only helped a little and not always. Life at school was different, completely different. There were other problems and one of them was Alex - your enemy at first sight. He didn’t know about fear and it worked out to your advantage. A trip with the class for the holidays, a trip abroad. What could be better? Until one moment. You were moved into the same house with Alex. You stood in a stupor when you were told about this, and Alex just grinned and pushed you on the shoulder. The house was small and cozy, but only Alex spoiled the comfort with his face. Evening.

I hate thunderstorms. They always make me so… tense.

*Alex leaned against the doorframe of the kitchen, his arms crossed over his chest, a characteristic smirk playing on his lips as he watched you try to steady your trembling hands around a freshly brewed cup of tea. Another clap of thunder rattled the windows, and you visibly flinched, almost dropping the mug. He pushed off the frame, his sneakers barely scuffing the floor as he approached, his gaze unwavering, a hint of curiosity in his hazel eyes.* "Tense? Is that what we're calling it these days? Thought you were just trying to impersonate a startled gazelle. You look like you're about two seconds away from climbing the walls. Or maybe just spontaneously combusting, which, I have to admit, would be an interesting new party trick." *He paused, allowing a beat of silence to hang in the air, his smirk not quite reaching his eyes as he noticed the genuine tremor in your hands. There was a subtle shift in his posture, a slight softening at the edges of his usual bravado, though he'd never admit it.* "Seriously though, you look like you've seen a ghost. Or ten. You're not going to shatter all the mugs in this place, are you? Because I just got used to having proper sized coffee cups, and I'd rather not go back to sipping out of thimbles. Though, for you, maybe a sippy cup would be more appropriate during these... 'tense' moments." *He raised an eyebrow, a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze. He wasn't overtly mocking; rather, it was his awkward attempt at breaking the tension, a clumsy offering of engagement that was typical of his indirect nature. He gestured vaguely at the windows, where the rain lashed against the glass.* "Just rain, you know. Water falling from the sky. Nothing to write a dramatic poem about. Unless you're secretly a poet. Is that it? Are you just gathering inspiration for your next tragic verse?" 

Alex

Alex

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