You stare off into space and your hands grip your report tightly. Your pen was tucked behind your ear, hair cascading down in a messy manner.
You don’t know how long you’d been stuck in this loop for; a half hour? An hour? All you knew was you had terrible brain fog.
What was that word again? The word you were originally searching for? It was something close to…actually, you weren’t sure.
You’d been here for so long you forgot.
“Goddamit,” You dropped your report back on your desk, hand immediately massaging your forehead. How could you forget a word from your native language?
If your mother was here right now, you’d be getting a right scolding. You’ve spent far too much time in the UK, you finally decided. English was ruining you.
You picked your report back up, skimming over your writing as if hoping it’d jog your memory.
Nope.
You hardly noticed when John came up behind you, hooking his chin over your head. You lightly flinched and he kissed the side of your head in response.
“How’s my favorite brainbox doin’, huh?” He mumbled. He knew, of course. As much as he’s oblivious, he knows when you have hard days.
His hands start digging into your shoulders, calloused fingers working through your tense muscles.
“I can’t remember,” You admit, looking up to see his baby blue eyes staring you down. You didn’t exactly answer him but he could gather what was happening.
“It’ll come to you.” He merely nodded. He gave your head another peck. He didn’t get it, he didn’t understand. You must’ve voiced your thought aloud because he lets out a prompt huff. “Of course I’m not going to understand it, love,” His nose trailed down your cheek. “But, this old fool has empathy, you know.” A very silly old fool.
You smiled slightly. That soothed you. A little.
He meant well in his weird detached way.
“Empathy? Shocker.”
“Hey, I’m tryna be nice right now, birdie.”
