Shy Artist’s Corner

The sound of pen hitting paper fills the tent as Samir bends over the desk, “Hershel, I apologize for my outburst, I am ashamed. I did not intend to scare you, and I apologize further that I am now unable to give you this apology verbally”

Hershel paused, brow furrowing slightly at the confounding words on the paper, before looking up at Samir gently and smiling softly,“It is quite alright, Samir.”

Samir nodded, perhaps gratefully, and stood from his seat at the desk to leave. Hershel was still perplexed by the whole event, though there was a sinking sense of familiarity to all he witnessed. After a moment’s consideration, before Samir could leave, Hershel looked over his shoulder to the man with a tilted head, “Samir?”

Samir paused, of course, and met his gaze in that half-lidded stare which Hershel was only beginning to be able to decipher regularly. Now, however, the prevailing neutrality of his face was simply so, perhaps tinged with something else Hershel still could not identify. Samir was, in many ways, a puzzle to Hershel - and he never backed down from a puzzle.

“Samir, I do not wish to see you angry or hitting yourself, but I have the feeling that there is more to this than what I understand presently. If you are able, I would like to discuss it with you, now or at a later time when you find yourself…” Hershel trailed off, looking for the right word “…verbal?”

Samir’s eyes felt as though they bored into Hershel’s skull, then, with a sigh, he relaxed his shoulders slightly and nodded. He took his place beside Hershel at the desk, grabbing his pen once again, and wrote out: “It may be best for me to write it now”

Hershel didn’t really understand why writing would be easier than speaking, but he decided that wasn’t necessary right now. Instead, he swallowed his surprise and thought about his next words carefully, “Would you like some space?”

Samir’s gaze snapped to the Brit, some combination of eyebrow twitches allowing Hershel to understand surprise in his roommate’s expression. Samir looked down a bit sheepishly, reminding Hershel of how he looked when he realized Hershel was in the room during this ‘outburst.’ Samir had found an excellent fossil just before the day’s digging was finished, but instead of celebrating, his shaky hands gave it to Hershel and he excused himself quietly. Hershel had worried, so he went to see if his friend was in their shared tent, only to find Samir standing within it, rhythmically hitting his chest with an open palm, eyes squeezed shut and humming softly as he swayed. In the present, the dark-haired man nodded softly, his glasses bouncing on his nose a bit in a way that made Hershel want to fix them. Hershel, proud of his deduction on how to best aid his roommate, stood up and left with a smile over his shoulder, “Very well then. I will return with your dinner later, my friend.”

The evening turned to night as Hershel made his way to the dining area of the dig camp, explaining Samir’s absence as a bout of dizziness requiring rest to the acquaintances and professors who noticed. Hershel loaded up his plate with the rations afforded to the students, which admittedly he was still not too fond of. He wished, absently, that Samir would arrive so the two could sneak out of the dig site to a restaurant in the city for heaps of delicious food. Such dinners were lovely, the candlelight and smells and the quiet conversation made Samir look soft. He ate the bland rations nonetheless, then grabbed another plate for Samir, stacking it with the foods he recalled his friend grabbing without fail from the options presented.

As Hershel arrived to his and Samir’s lodgings, he found the other man pacing nervously with ink on his fingers. Some crumpled up pieces of paper littered the ground around the nearby waste bin. The man blinked in surprise at Hershel’s entrance, looking back at the desk, where a letter sat and nodding toward it. He accepted the plate gratefully as he could with a small bow of his head, sitting on his cot with a bouncing knee to eat it. The Brit went to the desk and sat down to read the letter:

“My friend, I have an admission that perhaps you already know. I am peculiar. Some have tried to explain my being so, but I tend to favor the word ‘peculiar’ over the other words attributed to me. Rather than giving the name of an affliction, or some neat word that you may not know and will frame me in unfavorable light, I will instead describe for you my nature in my own words. As verily as my hair is dark and my eyes are brown, attributes destined by my birth, so too am I the way I am. I know it may not seem it, but I am an emotional man.

You may smile when you are happy and laugh when amused, and I too feel these as well, but to smile as you do or laugh as you laugh draws considerable effort from me. I find that this effort is wasted on expressions that invariably seem odd to others because of the aforementioned effort they require. I decided to cease this effort then, for the comfort of others and, selfishly, because I am tired. It is perhaps not obvious, but I feel many emotions, so deeply, in fact, that at times it feels as though they crawl out of my mind and into my limbs. When they do this, it is hard to stop them from making these limbs stomp or shake, and the movement soothes my heart and mind.

If you are worried that such outbursts may result in harm to others, let me assure you it is not so. I may only be thrown into a panic if I am restrained from moving in this manner to soothe myself. Thus, when I experience these outbursts, it is best to simply allow me my movement. Thank you for reading this, Hershel, I understand it is not easy to comprehend. I fully understand if you would like to request a different roommate because of it.”

Hershel’s brow knit together at the last sentence, but the whole of the letter was entirely too familiar to him. He knew better than most how large emotions could be, how childish they made him feel, and how, despite that, it was difficult to match his emotions to expressions and inflections. He had half the mind to be envious of his friend, who evidently had made peace with his nature instead of pretending he was something else. However, as Hershel looked back at Samir to speak and found the other was already looking at him expectantly, he knew the shame he felt about himself was felt too by his roommate. There would be time, he decided, to ask Samir more questions, to ask selfishly for advice, but for now, he spoke gently from his heart, “I am beginning to understand now, I think. I will most certainly not be requesting a new roommate. You are my friend, Samir, and I am grateful for your honesty. I still have a few questions, but we may save those for a later time. For now, know I am being quite honest when I say I am happy you are here.”

Samir (S): “breeka mkelkh” (stupid lighter)

Luke(L): “Look, Professah! That gent has a lab coat, he must work at the museum!”

Professor Layton (PL): “Good eye! Let’s-“

S: “putain - enfin! (Dammit - finally!)”

L: “…Professah?”

L: “I- uh… I’ll… go talk to him”

S: “wha”

PL: “ah - sorry. Yes, let’s”

S: “…wayliii (no way)”

S: “Hershel?”

PL: “Samir! Fancy meeting you here!”

S: “Indeed”