09-11-2026, 10:11 PM
The shift was instantaneous. One second she was offering a comforting smile, and the next, a heavy, raw wave of distress crashed over them.
Adrian was motionless, entirely taken aback. The sympathetic connection he had momentarily slipped into snapped, leaving him stranded in a space he actively despised: dealing with a visibly distressed, emotionally unraveling woman. He didn’t see a smooth enough exit to simply stand up and walk away, but every instinct he possessed said to run before it was too late.
What kind of can of crazy have I just opened? he thought, a cold knot of irritation tightening in his stomach.
He leaned back, putting physical distance between them as she curled inward, her hands dropping to wrap defensively around her abdomen, her petite frame trembling. She was babbling apologies now, trying to rationalize his frustration while explaining away her own rapid progress with fragments of lessons from Natalie and others, stumbling over words about blocks and the agony of yielding.
Adrian’s stare was flat and detached. He loathed the raw exposure of tear-bright eyes, the pathetic, self-hating panic radiating like a sunburn in summer. And cleared his throat. His voice dropping an octave, slipping back into a smooth, practiced vagueness designed to defuse a bomb he hadn't meant to trip.
"Rachel, stop,” he said, holding up a single, placating hand, his tone carefully neutral. "There's no need for any of that. You haven't offended me.”
He forced a tight, perfunctory smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. He needed to change the subject, fast, before she completely disintegrated across from him.
Adrian was motionless, entirely taken aback. The sympathetic connection he had momentarily slipped into snapped, leaving him stranded in a space he actively despised: dealing with a visibly distressed, emotionally unraveling woman. He didn’t see a smooth enough exit to simply stand up and walk away, but every instinct he possessed said to run before it was too late.
What kind of can of crazy have I just opened? he thought, a cold knot of irritation tightening in his stomach.
He leaned back, putting physical distance between them as she curled inward, her hands dropping to wrap defensively around her abdomen, her petite frame trembling. She was babbling apologies now, trying to rationalize his frustration while explaining away her own rapid progress with fragments of lessons from Natalie and others, stumbling over words about blocks and the agony of yielding.
Adrian’s stare was flat and detached. He loathed the raw exposure of tear-bright eyes, the pathetic, self-hating panic radiating like a sunburn in summer. And cleared his throat. His voice dropping an octave, slipping back into a smooth, practiced vagueness designed to defuse a bomb he hadn't meant to trip.
"Rachel, stop,” he said, holding up a single, placating hand, his tone carefully neutral. "There's no need for any of that. You haven't offended me.”
He forced a tight, perfunctory smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. He needed to change the subject, fast, before she completely disintegrated across from him.