Gev
WORRIED?
Ah, it was like Nevy to worry, but it didn’t matter how well she explained her reasons, he somehow always came out confused. With his bag on the table, and the flap open, he paused the search for his sandwich and observed her from beneath dark eyelashes.
“Do something?” He inquired, mocking the intensity she’d used. “Why do you make it sound like that? She’s trying to be my friend, not take me around a corner to stick a knife in my back.” He withdrew the square, plastic container holding his lunch from his bag and then pushed the bag off to the side. “For as long as I’ve known Fira, I can’t fathom why you’d believe otherwise.”
He was oblivious to the deeper emotions brewing within Fira’s end of the friendship, if any truly existed.
He peeled the lid off the plastic container, pulled either sleeve of his shirt back, and reached for his sandwich. And that’s when he spoke without thinking his words over. They just slipped right from his mouth.
“You sound jealous, you know?”
There’s a tinge of rage deep inside the floating aquatic, one that begins to bubble and brew to the surface with a scowl on her once pretty face. Now it was filled with disdain and outright scorn to her host whom so casually pointed out her flaw – one she was willing to ignore and pretend never existed.
“I don’t sound any particular way, Gev.
You just don’t understand women–or me.”
Perhaps it was a light jab at his tunnel vision in regards to the heart, persons or even his own beliefs. But she didn’t need to get into specifics, all she had to do was wait for Gev to make his own conclusions, and play off that insecure thought or worried tone.