The sun was beginning its slow descent as Daisy walked through the tree-lined pathways of the University of Paris, her favorite time of day when the golden light softened the world. It was a time of reflection, a peaceful interlude between the hustle of the day and the quiet of the evening. As she made her way toward the secluded bench nestled between two ancient oak trees, she felt a sense of anticipation, eager to unwind after a day filled with lectures and projects.
This bench had become her sanctuary, a place where she could sit and watch the world go by, sketch in her notebook, or simply breathe in the fresh air. She loved the slight warmth of the sun on her skin, the gentle breeze that rustled the leaves, and the way the campus seemed to slow down as evening approached.
As she rounded the corner, she spotted a figure already sitting on her bench. Her steps slowed as she recognized him—the same man from the library who had stormed out in a fit of rage. But something was different about him now. He sat there, relaxed, his head leaning back against the bench, eyes closed, lost in the world of his noise-canceling headphones. The anger she had seen in him before was gone, replaced by a rare moment of calm.
Daisy hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to approach. This bench was part of her routine, her comfort zone, and she wasn't ready to give it up so easily. Taking a deep breath, she decided to sit anyway. After all, it was a public space, and there was room for both of them.
As she approached, Ferdinand remained oblivious to her presence, the soft beats of music drowning out the world around him. But as she sat down on the far end of the bench, something in his subconscious registered the shift in his surroundings. He opened his eyes slowly, turning his head just enough to notice her sitting there, her gaze fixed on the trees in front of them.
Oh no, Ferdinand thought, panic flickering in his mind. She's here. His first instinct was to get up and leave—quickly, quietly, before she noticed him. But as he shifted slightly, preparing to stand, another voice spoke up in his mind.
Brain: Calm down, Ferdinand. She hasn't even looked at you. It'll be weird if you just leave.
Ferdinand: I should go. I don't want to make this awkward.
*Brain: No, what's awkward is leaving right after she sat down. Sit here for five more minutes. It's just five minutes.*
Ferdinand: Five minutes?
Brain: Yes, five minutes. It's basic human courtesy. You can handle that.
Ferdinand hesitated, torn between his desire to escape the situation and the logic of his own thoughts. He glanced at Daisy again. She seemed entirely absorbed in her own world, her eyes distant, focused on something only she could see. His heart rate slowed, just a little, as he convinced himself to stay.
Five minutes, he thought. I can do this.
The minutes ticked by slowly. Ferdinand tried to focus on the music, but his mind kept wandering back to the girl sitting just a few feet away. His earlier resolve was beginning to fray. The silence between them was thick, almost tangible, and he felt like it was pressing down on him, making it harder to breathe.
*Brain: See? This isn't so bad. She hasn't even noticed you're here.*
*Ferdinand: This is awkward. I should've just left.*
*Brain: Stop overthinking it. You're fine. Just relax.*
But relaxing was easier said than done. The longer Ferdinand sat there, the more aware he became of Daisy's presence. The rustle of her clothes, the soft sound of her breathing, the way the setting sun cast a warm glow on her skin—it all made him hyper-aware of how close they were.
Meanwhile, Daisy felt the tension in the air, though she couldn't quite place it. She had sensed him glance at her when she first sat down, but she didn't want to make things uncomfortable by acknowledging it. Instead, she tried to focus on the beauty of the evening, on the golden light filtering through the leaves, and the way the shadows danced on the ground. Yet, she couldn't help but feel the stranger's unease beside her.
*Brain: Alright, time's almost up. Just keep sitting. Don't move yet.*
*Ferdinand: Why is this so hard?*
*Brain: Because you're overthinking. Just pretend you're alone.*
Ferdinand tried to follow his brain's advice, but every passing second felt like an eternity. He could practically hear the awkwardness in the air, a buzzing tension that grew louder with each beat of his heart. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. The five minutes were up—or at least they felt like they were.
Without warning, Ferdinand stood up, the movement abrupt and jerky. Daisy looked up, startled by his sudden departure. He avoided her gaze, mumbling a quick, barely audible, "Excuse me," before turning and walking away at a brisk pace. His heart pounded in his chest, a mix of relief and lingering discomfort fueling his steps.
Daisy watched him go, her brow furrowed in confusion. The encounter had been brief, but it left her with more questions than answers. She couldn't quite understand what had just happened. He had seemed so calm at first, yet something had clearly unsettled him.
As Ferdinand disappeared into the shadows of the nearby buildings, Daisy turned her attention back to the bench, the peacefulness of the evening slowly returning. But the memory of the awkward encounter lingered, leaving her with a sense of unfinished business. She sighed, leaning back against the bench, trying to recapture the tranquility she had come here for. Yet, despite her best efforts, she couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't the last time she would see the mysterious stranger.
Ferdinand, meanwhile, kept walking, his mind racing as he tried to make sense of his actions. He didn't know where he was going, only that he needed to keep moving, to escape the awkwardness he had left behind. He wandered through the campus, the city, until the night swallowed him whole, and the only sound was the echo of his footsteps on the empty streets.