07-06-2019, 09:07 PM
I don’t notice anything amiss with the smile or the brightness coming from Cringe - I’ve never learned to suspect that smiles are false. It’s the frowns and scowls and the honest-to-goodness unfiltered hatred that I grew up with that I associate with maliciousness. It’s never hid from me before. So I ease into the belief that this Cringe, however odd his name might be, is just as friendly as everyone else I have met. “I’m Velkan! It’s nice to meet you Cringe.” I have to say, I don’t like his name. Because it makes me feel bad when I’m saying it - like I should be cringing! But I’m not! I’m delighted! There’s at least one hundred other questions that I should ask, and could ask, about the weather and where he lives and what type of flowers he likes best, but instead I ask the one question I probably shouldn’t. Because it’s not very nice of me. I’m just so curious though! “Did your mom name you Cringe?” My tone is nothing but innocent curiosity, like what you’d see in a young child or puppy (and my head even tilts a little to the side as I consider this train of thought), but that doesn’t stop the needles of doubt pricking at my stomach telling me I should’ve just asked something else. |
@[cringe]