Page 46 of Experiments in Love
“Um, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Grasping at straws for what would help, I looked toward the kitchen. “Let me get you some water.”
If it worked for aftercare, it would probably work for Francis.
Hopefully.
“That’s…” His voice trailed off as I got up and headed for the kitchen, but I knew he still wasn’t happy because he flopped back on the couch and sighed as he rubbed his face. “I’m going crazy.”
Agreeing with that seemed like it might be rude, but I wasn’t going to argue against it…so I stayed quiet and just brought him water.
Anson would’ve been proud of me for finding a Dom-based solution to the problem.
“Here you go.” The pizza had been slightly salty, so maybe that had something to do with his mood swings?
Did subs end up with too much salt during a scene?
Was that why Doms always wanted them to drink water?
Telling myself I’d text Anson later since he wanted me to let him know when I got home safe, I sat down and nodded toward the TV. “Do you want me to start it again?”
That had not been the right question.
His mouth dropped open and he looked like a fish. “What the fuck, Kennedy?”
How was I at fault for whatever his emotional breakdown was about?
Had he always been this insane?
We’d been hanging out for a few years, but I just couldn’t remember his crazy level being so high when we’d first started doing movie nights and going out.
“Are you okay?” I stopped worrying about doing the right thing since that hadn’t helped at all. “Is your battery too high? Too low?”
He was too something.
Francis’s mouth was still hanging open but he started shaking his head. It was progress but not actually enoughinformation to be useful at all. People said I talked too much but at least I’d have been helpful in sorting out the problem.
So I waited.
And waited.
Just when I was at the point where I thought calling Anson might be a good idea, Francis sighed and his mouth closed. That was definitely moving in the right direction, and thankfully I didn’t have to wait much longer for him to get words out. “You’ve been really quiet.”
Huh?
That was it?
I managed not to sigh or roll my eyes, so I was going to make sure Anson knew I deserved a reward. “You don’t like it when I talk too much. You think I’m exhausting.”
I still didn’t understand why or how, but I’d seen enough evidence to know he wasn’t lying.
He was just insane.
“But you talk.” He waved his hand between me and the TV. “We watch a movie and you talk. I don’t even know what you think of the costumes or the bad CGI.”
“You find that exhausting.” Repeating that didn’t seem like it was helping, so I tried again. “Movie night is supposed to be relaxing. Why is me being quiet worse than me being chatty?”
I was starting to think the reason I didn’t have more friends wasn’t all my fault.
“But you talk.” Francis seemed stuck on that point like the computer right before that blue screen hit. “You talk.”
