Why did I leave? All he did was flirt, and I feel I overreacted. But it makes me so uncomfortable.
So tell him.
No. I can't tell him. Can't tell him I'm uncomfortable with flirting.
Everything you do is weak.
"Shut up!" I scream, grasping my head, trying to block out my thoughts.
"Laf? Hey, are you okay?" I hear him on the other side of the door.
"G-go away..." I reply, holding back tears.
I stay curled up in a fetal position, not wanting to do anything. My stomach argues against me, grumbling hungrily. Unwillingly, I step slowly out of my room. Hercules is sitting on the sofa, and glances at me.
"I heated some of the spaghetti up for you." He says, gesturing. "It's in the microwave."
"You didn't have to—"
"But I did." He replies gently. "Really, it's not such a big deal. Just say 'thank you' and move on. You don't have to be sorry for every little thing."
"Are you mad?"
"Of course not. Why would I be?" He replies, shrugging. "How about you eat and we'll watch a movie?"
"Okay." I nod. A movie can't be that bad. "Thank you."