Luka #2
He stared at me just long enough that I could feel myself squirm.
There was absolutely no way for him to know that part of my problem was that the image would live rent-free in my head until the next time I did the same thing I’d caught him doing.
The guy was kind of a jerk and hard to get through to, but I would have to be blind and stupid not to realize he was still an attractive man.
And I’d just walked in on that attractive man slowly stroking his very attractive dick, and that was not an image that was going to leave me anytime soon.
“I can...understand that,” he said, clearing his throat roughly. “It was not an ideal position to be discovered in.”
“Is this your way of saying you forgive me for walking in on you...in a private moment?” I asked. Calling it ‘jerking off’ seemed too coarse when the image was still hyper fresh in my brain.
“I’ll be honest, I know I’ve given the impression that I haven’t been impressed by you—”
“Or like me.”
“Or that,” he said with what had to be the first smile the entire time. “But I can confidently say that even in my...less kind moments—don’t give me that look. I never considered you to be a creep or a liar.”
“Less kind moments,” I said with a snort and a roll of my eyes. “And I’m going to pretend I’m not offended that you decided I wasn’t a liar or creep, along with whatever the hell else you came up with as criticism.”
“You’re throwing yourself wholeheartedly into this ‘being yourself’ thing, aren’t you?”
“I’ve been holding back for a week and a half, and it turns out I’m not good at it. Not when I can’t find a reason for you to be so damn rude and cold all the time when I haven’t even had the chance to earn being treated like an annoying shit. I deserve that chance at least.”
He stared at me before turning with a snort. “I can’t argue with that. My sister always said I’m too quick to judge people and shut them out.”
“And what did you say, first impressions are last ones?”
Rowan hesitated, clicking his tongue. “Something...remarkably close, actually, though I can’t remember precisely what I said.”
I smirked. I couldn’t help it; it was kind of nice to have caught him by surprise, and now I knew what he looked like when he wasn’t able to stifle his reaction. Good to know. “I’ve known people like that before.”
“You don’t seem like the sort of man who would get along with those types.”
“I mean, c’mon, look around you. I’m working at a place dedicated to giving people another chance, whether it’s a second, third, or thirtieth chance.
Of course I don’t exactly vibe well with the idea that a first impression is the only one you ever need,” I said as he sat down in his chair.
His motions were stiff, and something clicked in my head. “Uh, personal question.”
“I didn’t realize we had connected so quickly that we’d moved onto personal questions already,” he said in a tight voice.
“Are you being a dick because you’re pissed at me or because you’re in pain that you’re trying to hide?” I asked.
Rowan was reaching for his cup, his fingers hesitating, and clicked his tongue. “It was my understanding that medical information was kept from Guides unless it involved a serious problem, like an allergy or epilepsy.”
“And you’d be right,” I said, crossing my arms and frowning.
“I had a job for a year at a care home. We had a guy who was in constant pain, but acted like he wasn’t; he hated the idea that the people there to help him might actually want to help.
So he moved like you just did, and he was one of the crankiest residents, which, ya know, fair. Pain isn’t fun.”
“Just a year?”
“Uh, yeah. I was driving over an hour to work there, and when they changed managers, they cut me down to forty hours a week. Those fifty to sixty-hour weeks were the only thing that justified the drive,” I said with a shrug.
“So I left. I told them that wasn’t going to work for me, put in my two weeks, and started looking for work. ”
“Common wisdom is to have a job lined up before you leave,” he said, sipping his coffee and wrinkling his nose.
“Yeah, well, I had a friend tell me once that wisdom was always chasing me, but I was usually running faster,” I said with a snort as I walked over to the coffee machine, sliding a new mug from the rack and starting a new cup. “I was kinda mad, but I couldn’t help but laugh.”
“Why?”
“Because it was true.”
“So you...laughed?”
“Yes, you do know what a sense of humor is, right?”
He narrowed his eyes. “I wouldn’t think a serious character flaw would be worth laughing over.”
I sighed. “You’re not the first person to wonder that, but for me, there are just some things in life that have to be laughed at. The only other option is to cry.”
“Or improve it,” he said, frowning as the machine beeped.
“If we were always ready to fix what’s wrong with us when we realize it, no one would need therapy or places like this,” I said as I brought the cup over and set it down, taking the coffee he’d had before and dumping it.
“We would all be self-sufficient, self-actualized, healthy, happy little people who got through life without a care in the world and only minimal problems.”
“That is true, I suppose,” he said somewhat reluctantly, and I turned to find him frowning at the mug.
“Something wrong?” I asked.
“I could have made my own coffee,” he said stiffly.
“Yeah, and you’d have to get up and mess with the machine after you just sat down,” I said with a shrug. “Look, don’t start with the ‘I can do it myself, don’t pity me’ thing, alright? I did it because I wanted to.”
“You did it because you know I’m in pain.” He scowled.
“Thank you for admitting you’re in pain,” I said, smirking when his expression went blank.
“And here’s a fun fact for you; people are pretty helpful by nature.
Don’t get me wrong, we can be a selfish, bitter, sadistic species sometimes, and the shit we do to each other is horrifying.
But your regular, everyday person is pretty normal, not awful.
Flawed? Yeah, definitely, and they do things to hurt others by accident.
But we’re fundamentally a helpful, caring species. ”
“That’s optimistic,” he said, frowning. “And not my experience.”
“I know enough about you to know you work in business...generally speaking.”
“I...yes.”
“Right, well, that’s not considered a bastion of humanity’s kindness, selflessness, and compassion,” I said with a laugh.
“We’re a social species. But no social species can survive, let alone thrive, if it doesn’t feel compelled to help.
Did you know it wasn’t that long ago they thought ancient humans were just shy of animals? Uncaring, brutal...brutes.”
“I can’t say I did know that.”
“It’s true. Back when we were living in caves. The running theory was that we operated as groups, but it was still survival of the strongest, and the weak were left behind.”
“Are you alluding to the business world?”
“No, but it would have been kind of clever if I’d slipped that in along with my point.”
The corner of his lips twitched again. “Okay. Then what is your point?”
“I can’t remember how long ago it was,” I said, turning to make another cup of coffee.
“Or when I read about it. But they found a burial. And it was obvious that they were, uh...I can’t remember if they were born with…
They were basically deformed, lame, or whatever.
They wouldn’t have been able to keep up with the nomadic, harsh conditions of ancient humans. ”
“And this body was found thrown in a hole somewhere after the injury?”
“They were buried,” I said, watching the coffee trickle. “With mementos or tokens. Not only that, but they had lived with that deformity for a long time, even though they couldn’t take care of themselves.”
Taking the fresh coffee, I sat across from him, adding a heavy amount of sugar. Rowan watched me, his nose curling. “Would you like some coffee with your sugar? Perhaps some cream?”
“Nah, lactose intolerant,” I told him as I stirred.
“My point was that despite offering nothing practical to the group, they were cared for. They were fed and watered. Despite the idea that ancient humans only cared about survival, this person, who offered little, was still cared for by the group, and when they died, they were buried with love and grace, not because they were useful, but because the group cared.”
Rowan took another sip of coffee, his eyes going distant. I leaned back and sipped; it needed more sugar, but was tolerable. God, I’d watched Reggie drink the stuff straight up like Rowan did, and I never understood how the hell anyone could do that.
“I’m afraid I don’t see your point,” Rowan said, his gaze clearing as it shifted back to my face.
“You don’t see it, or you don’t want to?” I wondered.
He frowned. “How about you skip the psychoanalysis and tell me what the point you were attempting to make is?”
“Attempting to make,” I chuckled. “I see what you’re doing.
And my point is, people survive because others care, and caring is as built into us as selfishness and cruelty.
The cruelties we enact on one another would make demons cringe, but the wonders we work would make angels weep with envy.
So yeah, I did it because I didn’t want you to be in more pain than necessary over something as simple as getting a fresh cup of coffee when I could do it for you.
But that doesn’t mean I pity you or think you’re not capable.
How uncaring would I be to know you’re in pain and expect you to do something I can easily handle? ”
His eyes narrowed, and he took another sip before letting out a scoff. “You know, I think this is the first time I’ve ever heard someone make a half-decent argument for pitying me.”