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It's a Wednesday today, and it is raining. I love the rain. However, I hate getting out of bed when it's raining. I am not particularly fond of getting out of bed in any weather condition, to be honest, but with the rain gently hitting the rooftops and the unobtrusive grey light seeping in through the window, waking up just seems cruel. It's like the world is inviting you to relax and sleep a while longer. Unfortunately I have school today, so I must pry myself from the sheets and get ready to face the day. I rifle through my closet and grab my herringbone wool skirt with a zipper running down its side, a white button-down, and a black sweater to wear over said button-down, and some black tights. It's sort of on the chilly side today, which puts me in a slightly better mood. I adore cold weather. More specifically, I adore dressing for cold weather. The cold weather brings out cashmere sweaters and wool skirts and tights and coats, all things that I love to wear. After I do all the morning necessities and eat some breakfast, I put on my black leather equestrian-style boots and head out into the hallway of my apartment building.
I should probably get over my hatred for waking up in the morning; it can't be healthy to despise something you do everyday. I admittedly like going to my school. I take lots of interesting classes. Psychology is my focus and my personal favorite, but I'm really happy with all of my other classes. I really like my world history class, and I was so happy that my school offered a mythology class. I've loved mythology since I was a little kid watching Disney's Hercules. I was pretty disappointed when I found out that the actual story of Hercules was not at all like Disney's version, but the interest in mythology stuck. Today we're reading about Helios's son Phaeton and his failed trip across the sky, but when we're done with that, my class will read the story of Perseus, which is a favorite of mine. The only class I have that I genuinely don't like is astronomy. I just can't seem to take to it. I bite my lip just thinking about it. Astronomy is also the only class in which my grades are less-than-stellar, pun not intended. It seems that the good mood I'd tricked myself into by thinking about the classes I liked has gone, and now I'm hailing a cab in the rain with a frown on my face.
Despite my not-so-great mood, today was a good day. The classes went by quickly, and I got good marks on all of the quizzes I got back. My sewing course was even better, though. Today we began working on learning to make tailored separates, and I'm so thrilled to begin working on a suit. For me, jackets have always been the hardest things to make, but I am sort of looking forward to the challenge. I just returned to my small apartment, and the clock I have hanging in the kitchen reads 9:14. The rain has died down to a quiet lull, but I don't think that it's stopping anytime soon. It's been pouring all day. So far the week has been so tiring, especially Monday. Saix's appearance in the middle of the night left me with hardly any sleep, and I've been thinking of him almost constantly. I'm puzzled by his confession. I don't think that he could possibly be emotionless, but he didn't seem to be lying. His voice didn't get any higher, he didn't blush, he didn't appear nervous… Nothing about him indicated that he was lying. My first thought was that he could be a sociopath, but he doesn't have the characteristic glibness and he doesn't seem to be a narcissist. Saix may not smile often and he may speak monotonously and he may not be very expressive, but I can't just write him off as being completely emotionless. I honestly have no idea if I should believe him or not. Maybe I should be less concerned about his possibly having no feelings and more worried about the fact that he knows where I live and could just show up and climb through my window at any time. Actually, scratch that. I should probably be way more worried about the fact that he could climb through my window and I wouldn't mind at all.
Thinking about Saix's lack of empathy and make lack of common sense makes me sigh. I need to hurry up and go to sleep soon. Naturally, I chose to do something unproductive instead of go get ready for bed and maybe get a full eight hours of sleep. I flop down on my white bedspread and stare at the simple grey headboard while listening to the storm. Just above it is a splatter painting with vivid pink, orange, grey, and black splotches. The blanket on the end of my bed is orange, too. My bed takes up most of the space in my bedroom, but I have room for a cube shaped fuchsia side table and a grey wardrobe. I think it's sort of ironic that my room is so bright, especially since practically everything I wear is a neutral or a dark color and my favorite color is dark green. Despite this, I still like my room quite a bit. It's not too bright to feel cozy. I think that the 'antique' white walls mellow it out a bit. After I continue to zone out for a few minutes, I quickly slip out of my clothes and into the shower and proceed to get ready for bed. When I return to my bedroom, it's about a quarter past ten and I'm exhausted. I slide under the covers of my bed and sprawl out, listening to the rain hitting the roof all the while.
When I am woken up, it is not by an annoying tapping noise but rather a tap on the shoulder. I let out a moan of protest and rollover in an attempt to bury myself deeper in the covers. "Cynthia." Upon hearing Saix's voice, I sit up. "Saix, what are you doing here?" He pushes a stray hair out of his eyes and I notice for the first time that he's wearing gloves. "You left your window open." Of course I did. "What makes you think that you can keep showing up here while I'm asleep? I have school tomorrow, and frankly it's kind of creepy." At this, he smirks. "I already told you; this is when it's convenient for me." I let out a little huff of annoyance. "It's not convenient for me!" "Well, are you going to kick me out?" I lazily look at him. He's wearing the kickass leather coat that he came in last time, and I think I can see black leather boots beneath it. "…No." He seems satisfied with that. I suspect he knew that I wouldn't kick him out. "Did it stop raining? I can't hear really hear it anymore." He shakes his head. "It has slowed to a drizzle, but it has not stopped." I try to listen more intently. I can just barely here the sound of the rain. I glance back at Saix to look at his coat more closely. "Why aren't you wet?" He doesn't answer me immediately, so I repeat my question. "Why aren't you wet? Your coat has no water on it." "I was waiting for a while." I throw of the covers and clumsily try to rise from my bed. "So you climb into my house through the window and then proceed to watch me sleep? You're turning out to be quite the creep." He doesn't say anything. "I was just teasing you." I can't be sure, but I think that he nods. "I know," his usual monotone is replaced with something slightly tense. "I'm sorry." I was not expecting him to apologize. "What?" "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to alarm you." Even though his apology is delivered in a flat tone, I don't think it isn't sincere. "It's okay. I really don't mind that much. It sort of gives me something to look forward to." I swear something in his eyes softens after I said that. As I'm fumbling around in the darkness trying to find a light switch, Saix follows closely behind. While I'm trying to navigate around my bed, I trip. Saix is on me in an instant, pulling me up towards him. When he stops yanking me upward, I'm pressed close to him I can feel his shoulders wrapped around mine protectively. "Thanks," I exhale. "I must have tripped over some shoes or something." I'm thankful for the darkness now; I don't want him to see how violently I'm blushing. He says nothing, only nodding again. I continue on my journey to the light switch, more carefully now. When I reach the wiry black lamp on my side table, I can see out the corner of my eye that Saix has yet to move from the spot where he pulled me up from my fall. "So," I begin, whirling around to face him "coffee?"
I walk over to my plain little kitchen to turn on the light and start the coffee maker and then walk right back into my bedroom to retrieve a sweater to put on over my nightgown. This one is probably even slinkier than the one I wore last time he was here. It's silver silk with a keyhole neckline. I grab my favorite oversized black sweater, which I wrap around myself languidly. When I walk back into the kitchen, Saix is already sitting down at the table. "Are you cold?" I shake my head. "Then may I ask why you need the sweater?" I pull out a chair and decide to sit at the table as well. "Well, I just think that it's more… appropriate." "And why is going without a sweater inappropriate?" "Um, I just wanted to cover myself." "Oh, I see," he looks at me with an expression that looks a little amused and the slightest bit suggestive. "Why don't you sleep in less revealing clothes?" "I had no idea you were coming! Besides, I maybe I like sleeping in 'revealing' clothes." He continues to look at me in a way that I feel should probably make me uncomfortable, but I ignore him. His eyes are just unnerving. "Coffee's ready." I pour him some, careful not to forget the four sugars. "Thank you." I nod absentmindedly. I watch him while he sips his drink. I need to gather my thoughts.
"So, Saix," he looks up at me from his mug. "I've been thinking about what you said a lot." He nods to show that he's listening. "I'm still skeptical about it." He puts his blue mug down on the table. "Of course. That's perfectly reasonable." He puts both of his elbows on the table and interlaces his gloved fingers. He leans his chin on his hands. "However," he begins "you should believe me. I'm completely serious." "Oh?" He nods once more. "You see, Cynthia, I am heartless." I roll my eyes at this. "Please. You aren't that bad. You've been kind to me. You've even saved me from certain undesirable situations." He almost smiles at my response. "If you're talking about that man back at the bar, that was nothing." He sips his coffee. "But really, I do not have a heart." "You cannot be serious. How could anybody exist without one?" "I lost it," he states matter-of-factly. I just gawk at him for a few seconds. He has to be kidding, but his facial expression suggests otherwise. "I… how? Why are you still alive?" I had heard stories about people with strong hearts that could lose their hearts to the darkness and become emotionless when I was a little girl. I had ever thought that there was any truth to these stories. "It was consumed." "Consumed?" "Yes." I stared at him in disbelief. "My heart was lost to the darkness, and now I cannot feel." This is insanity. Science has proven that people feel because of their brains, not hearts. Believing him would mean discarding practically everything that I ever learned from psychology. "But people feel because of parts in the brain, not because-" "I know. That's what I believed too, truly. Perhaps I should not have told you this much." He looks down at his hands. He seems to be pondering something. He suddenly snaps his head back up to look at me. "Cynthia. You won't tell anybody, will you?" "Of course not! Anybody I told this to would think I was crazy! I think I'm crazy for even going on with you for this long!" We stare at each other for a few moments before I begin babbling again. "This is crazy. You're crazy. I must be crazy too. I have no real reason to believe you, but you really haven't shown any emotion in what limited contact we've had… Of course this doesn't prove anything…" He watches while I continue to attempt being logical. "Wait. Why are you telling me this?" He gets a thoughtful look on his face. "Hm. That is a very good question. I'm afraid I can't share the answer with you. I've already told you so much more than I've ever told anyone else. But you'll still help me, won't you?" I cross my arms. I have no idea what this will entail, or if I'd even willingly participate. "Help you with what?" "Well, you can feel, as you've just demonstrated, and I can't. Really, all I can do is want. And I want my heart back. So since I don't have one, I was hoping you'd be so kind as to share what it's like with me." His voice is smooth, clipped; and his countenance is as serious as ever. My own curiosity is getting the best of me. I need to learn more about him. He may not have emotions, but he has still kept a personality, and a rather interesting one at that. "Alright." He smiles a charming pseudo-smile. "Excellent. Now, go get some sleep. After all, you have school tomorrow." With that, he is gone.