“Ah, but you aren’t cruel. You can act cruelly, I believe that, but that isn’t who you are. There’s a difference, no?” Shamelessly, he empties the remaining candies on to the tissue in between them, his almost translucent fingers sorting them into a hierarchy of flavours as he speaks. Lemon, orange, watermelon, blackcurrant and strawberry, in order of his own personal palette. It’s a tedious task that he completes with pedantic preciseness, but when he’s done he sits back with a smile so patient that his eyes are reduced to laughing. Satisfaction. He pops a bright yellow candy into his mouth and it rests against the inside of his cheek as he speaks. “Besides, acting cruelly isn’t ever much fun.”
it was as if the two of them were sinking, falling farther and farther into the elusive pool that her mind had flooded around them. it was discomforting too, the ridges of her spines being met with sensitive chills that caused her to spark upwards and sit more straight. that was how she was raised to sit too, but those days are just a passing memory that doesn’t create any sort of reaction. right now, her only concern is to try and make sense of what he was trying to embrace her on. she felt as if she was sitting in those classroom settings all over again, the teacher organizing their desk while attempting to give her some life advice on what and what not to do. in this scenario those assorted candies were the papers, all neatly categorized on that white tissue paper that acts as a desk. usually she would just walk away from these sorts of settings, dictate that no one knows what they are talking about and it’s just a waste of lung capacity to try and enlighten her with their ideology. yet, in this instance, curiosity tugged at that tingle within her and made her want more. to hear more, almost as if he could make that crucial life vs. death decision for her. it was extremely out of character too, her face turning from a scold to soft irises blooming with hope, a tint of temptation residing on her mouth whenever her lips parted to finally speak. to finally get answers.
so she chose her next actions carefully, her fingers fumbling in her hands that acted like a switch to another realm. one second, calm. another, irritated. another, solemn. she was a switch with multiple outlets and only one capacitor. “what makes you think it isn’t any fun?” the setting now transitioned to one that felt like an interview, the student with her elusive notepad and gear shifting mind ready to drop the bomb any second. in her personal opinion acting cruel was indeed tiring, but also thrilling. she could say and do as she pleased, trample on the content of someone else, and even if the blowup was outrageous she could still bask in that glory of, ‘hey, i owned you.’ and so the questions continue. “what makes a cruel person then? let’s use these candies for example. if i were to tell you that if you keep eating like this you’ll be fat, or if i silently throw them away while thinking the same thought, is there a difference?”
