Abed had always been an exceptionally observant person. He noticed every facial expression, every change in posture, of tone of voice. He observed that in everyone he interacted with. He had learned with time to match certain emotions to someone's body language. He learned to observe the signs in order to behave in an appropriate manner; a manner that wouldn't upset or offend anyone. It was a system; it helped him to try to connect to people in a way he couldn't conjure organically.
It was a helpful method, but far from perfect. It was dependent on his own interpretation of another person's reaction and behavior, and it wasn't rare for him to misunderstand the signs in front of him, and accidentally say something that affronted the person he was attempting to establish a connection to. This caused him to become increasingly frustrated, because he couldn't understand why people couldn't just state what they were feeling in a clear, straightforward way, like he did.
Yes, he watched and mostly understood everyone else's expressive nuances, but he wasn't affected by them.
He didn't need to press his lips together to show he was angry, or raise his eyebrows to demonstrate surprise, he just said it. He understood that usually when writers used that method in fiction it was a sign of lazy writing, but how simpler would life be if everyone acted like that.
Sometimes he thought the reason he was able to state his feelings so bluntly was because he always knew exactly what he was feeling. He had heard other people say how they didn't know what was going on their heads or how they couldn't understand their own emotions, but that didn't happen to him. He had a completely understanding of himself, he was always in control.
Until now.
For the first time in his life, he was experiencing sensations he couldn't understand. His heartbeat speed increased without an obvious cause; at times he felt blood rush to his cheeks, and his hands unusually sweaty.
At first he thought maybe he was getting sick, but he soon ruled out that option. He didn't feel sick; he didn't feel bad at all. On the contrary – he felt a sense of overwhelming joy take over him from time to time.
All this was puzzling him, because although pleasurable, these feeling were beginning to make him frustrated. He didn't like not knowing why he was feeling the way he did; it made him feel vulnerable. He briefly wondered if that was how everyone else felt all the time. If it was, he felt sorry for them.
So he did what he always did. He made a careful and thorough analysis of the different sensations he experienced and their respected circumstances.
His first realization was that that these changes didn't occur at random times; there was one constant in all the occasions he had registered a difference of his usual self: a person.
His second realization made him want to slap himself for how obvious the answer was. He was in love.
He felt his eyebrows rise in surprise he shouldn't be feeling – he had seen and heard the times a thousand times; he should have recognized them straight away, especially in himself. He had been so wrapped up in this new feeling his deducing abilities had faltered.
In this state of astonishment, all he could do was sit quietly and think of how it was possible that a person like him had found themself in love.
A/N: Thank you for reading my story. I've been having trouble writing lately and wrote this to try to snap out of this block. Was it any good? Let me know.
I hope you liked it. Please review; tell me who you think Abed should be in love with. I already have idea, but maybe you can change my mind.