Kctabasis - Blog Posts

Rhiannon tilted her head slightly, watching the way he worried at his cuticles, the way his shoulders stayed tense even as he tried to settle against the wall. She didn’t judge his answer—just took it in, like she was tucking it away somewhere safe. “Maybe they don’t like talking to you. Or maybe they just don’t know how -- but that’s their problem, not yours.”

At his question, she exhaled slowly, turning her gaze toward the yard. “I walk,” she said after a moment. “Barefoot, mostly. The colder, the better. It makes my head feel… quieter-- like all the noise gets pressed down into the earth.”

She stretched one foot out, pressing her toes lightly against the wood as if proving her point. “If that doesn’t work, I count things. Patterns in the ceiling. The way people blink. The stars, if I can see them.” A pause, then a quiet, almost absentminded addition: “And if that doesn’t work… I try to let it go until it burns itself out.” She made it sound easy, but it was rare that it ever burned itself out. Her thoughts and anxiety got the better of her most days, but the things she mentioned did help ease things for her.

There was a gentle comfort that came from having someone understanding him, it was a rare thing for him to encounter. Even his father couldn't fully understand him. Kit pushed his glasses up his nose and tried to make himself more comfortable against the wall. Of course that was proving to be impossible with the thumping of the music from inside, he could even hear the occasional loud eruption of cheers over whatever song was being played. He thought momentarily of leaving and going home to some peace and quiet but thought that would be rude considering he was in the middle of a conversation.

Kit brought his his thumb to his lips and began picking at his cuticles absent-mindedly. Whenever he felt like he was out of control he would chew on his cuticles, his therapist had said it was so he could feel in control but Kit thought that was a ludicrous reasoning because simply put it didn't make him feel even the slightest bit in control of everything, it was just another action his mind was racing over. He nodded to her sentence in agreement. "My own students don't like talking to me, they think a teacher is supposed to be more sociable with his students but I can't bring myself to want to do that." He confessed. He found it weird that he was telling a stranger all of this, believing that his mind is wiring this to be some type of genuine connection.

Kit considered her question for a moment before responding. "I have to numb it, marijuana is the only thing that does that." Truthfully he'd become pretty dependent on the drug despite doing his best not to. He didn't want to be addicted to it but when he is lying awake at three am and there is no sign of sleep in sight he will do what he has to in order for some type of relief. If his students, father, or anyone who lived around him smelled it's typical smell then they chose to say nothing. "And you?" He asked, looking at her again. "If your mind is anything like mine then you must have a way to quiet it."

Rhiannon didn’t respond right away. She let his words settle, watching the way he curled in on himself, the way his frustration laced through every syllable. She didn’t flinch at the bitterness in his tone—just observed, quiet and steady.

After a moment, she looked away, out toward the darkened yard. “I know what you mean,” she murmured. “When there’s too much noise, too many thoughts, and no way to turn them down.” Her fingers idly traced a knot in the wood beneath her. “It’s like being stuck inside a room where all the walls are mirrors, and every reflection is another thing you have to think about.”

She let the thought drift between them, not pushing for a response.

Instead, she sat back a little more, looking up at the stars in the sky. They always had a way of calming her, a way of reminding her how small she and her problems were in the grand scheme of things. “People don’t always notice when someone’s overwhelmed. They just keep talking, keep expecting.” Her gaze flickered toward the window, toward the muffled thrum of the party inside. “It’s easier to let them think you’re distant than explain.”

Her eyes met his again, searching but not prying. “Does anything help?” It wasn’t an empty question, not a meaningless attempt at small talk. Just quiet curiosity, like she was offering him space to answer—or not—without expectation.

Kit's gaze shifted back to his front and he returned to taking eaven breaths. He knew this was futile to continue doing this and silently cursed himself for being out from home for so long. He was thinking of classwork and what he needed to assign for his next class, about the bpm of the current song playing at the party, also trying to calculate a math equation he'd seen in his head, all the while people at the party continued to try and speak to him. It was too much and he soon found himself needing and wanting to go home.

His brain was still buzzing and he could feel himself slipping mentally. He made a mental note to know that he'd be pretty much be operating on autopilot for the remainder of the week. He couldn't understand her feeling of not being around strangers but it all being too much was something all too familiar for him. He was nodding along to what she said absently before taking a small sigh.

At her question his eyes looked back to her as he pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his head on top of them. "It spins everywhere." His reply coming out bitter and irritated. "I can't control it and I just," he shrugged, "I needed a moment." After a moment he continued. "Most people assume i'm just cold but if my brain is already in overdrive and someone speaks to me on top of it..it just becomes too much to handle."

Rhiannon didn’t answer right away. She sat with her legs tucked close, toes curling slightly against the wood as if feeling for something unseen. She had always enjoyed going barefoot, connecting to the world beneath her feet. It was something she had done since she was small, living back at the compound. The night air stirred the loose strands of her hair, and she let her gaze drift beyond the patio, toward the sky, the trees, anything but him. Finally, she nodded. “Yes.” A simple answer, quiet but firm.

Another pause, as if she were testing the weight of the words before letting them go. “Too much…everything.” Her fingers traced absent patterns against her knee. “I'm not used to being around strangers, and I've never been to a party before, so the noise is...more than I expected.”

She tilted her head slightly, finally looking at him. “Your head still spins out here?” Her tone wasn’t quite concerned, more curious like she was cataloguing his response the same way she might observe a bird tilting its head before taking flight.

Kit let his other eyelid open as she climbed onto the patio with him. A small part of him thought it would be easier to get up and leave but with the pounding headache he was experiencing he knew he was in no state to be walking back to his place. He mentally adds this as another reason to not go out to parties, on top of the loud music and heavy amounts of people. Despite this, he did find himself being grateful that she'd come onto the patio quietly and hadn't been loud or come out to throw up over the side.

He wasn't sure if he should respond, or in fact how he should respond. It would be rude for him to tell her to leave and the promise of the quiet in the night air was too welcoming for him to ignore. "You can stay." He said with a sigh, leaning his head back once again. He pressed a finger to his temple as they sat in a few moments of silence but was still finding it hard to relax.

Kit turned his head to look at her as she spoke, getting a good look at her since she'd joined him outside. "They're a lot." He replied truthfully. "The music, the crowds, it all makes my head spin." He added. After a few moments of silence he speaks again. "I'm assuming you're the same."

Rhiannon stepped onto the patio, her bare feet making no sound against the cool wood. She hadn’t used the door—too many people, too much noise—so the window had seemed like the better option. She paused at his words, tilting her head slightly as if considering them.

“We can't both use it?” she asked softly after a moment. She lowered herself to sit a few feet away, drawing her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. The night air curled around her, cool against her skin, but she didn’t seem to mind.

After a pause, she glanced at him, her gaze calm but unreadable. “You don’t like crowds either.” It wasn’t a question. Just an observation, offered like a pebble dropped into still water to see how it would ripple.

open to: m/f/nb

connections: anyone

Kit's back was against the wall, his legs crossed beneath him as he sat out on the patio. He knew coming to this party wasn't the best idea, he'd only been here for an hour before needing to be alone. He'd tried a couple of bedrooms but people eventually came in to use it so he'd opted for the patio just off of the livingroom. His eyes were closed and he was steadying his breaths when he heard someone climb out the window onto the patio with him. "If you need to use this patio please let me know now so I can leave." He said, opening one eye to look at them.