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Floating Sea
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Dotti jolts upright and shakes her head in a firm rebuttal. She looks down at the picture, then up at you, but doesn’t- or can’t- find the words. After a moment of obvious struggling, she gives up and launches herself right at you, Hugging as tight as she can.
You don’t scream. The scream travels up your throat, but you successfully cut it off at the mouth.
She’s so warm. Don’t say that. Don’t say she’s warm, that’s rude, or weird, or something. Her fur feels really nice- STOP!
Through the chaos in your mind, one thought bubbles up to the surface.
“This is really nice.”
Oh my gosh, you were becoming a middle schooler. This is how it happens, a cute girl hugs you and then girls are all you can think about. It’s already infected you! You just admitted that she was really cute!
...You’re just standing there. She’s been hugging you for at least five seconds now, and you’ve just been standing there shellshocked like an idiot, haven’t you? Do something!
Roger: “Um-”
NO! Anything other than talking! Do not let any of these thoughts spill out!
In your quest to do something right, you robotically move your arms to wrap them around her, squeezing her back. Not too hard, not too little, a perfectly normal amount. She will think you’re normal if you squeeze her exactly this much, you’re sure of it.
She lets up the pressure, and your mind snaps back to attention. You quickly release her and let her pull back. As she stops touching you, your brain starts to return to its normal functions. In the span of a few seconds, everything has gone back to normal, and you realize that you’ve been acting like an idiot for no good reason. You silently pray that she didn’t notice, that your face wasn’t redder than a tomato, and that you would not be this way with girls any time you were hugged in the future.
Dotti reluctantly hands the sketchbook back, but it’s obvious she doesn’t want to let the drawing out of her sight. She hunches her shoulders tight, trying to form words, but it fails her again. She takes a deep breath, paws clenched in frustration- but then she lets it go in a long, deep sigh.
Roger: “You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to.”
She looks at Roger and smiles. The faintest scent of cinnamon passes through the air, and the space station’s lights seem brighter, somehow.
Roger: “Here-”
You gingerly grab the page, and tear it out of your book, handing it over to Dotti.
Roger: “It won’t be there when I wake up, and it makes you happy. You should keep it!”
She smiles wide, and clutches it against her chest. Even if she doesn’t say anything, you can tell by the look in her eyes just how much it means to her. You don’t know why, Dotti hadn’t really explained it, but all that matters is that you were able to make her happy. Your art did that. It was a real confidence booster.
...Unfortunately, it’s outweighed by your mind’s repeated play-by-play of that hug, which has you holding your hat over your face in utter humiliation.
Roger has gained 40 Fear, 30 of which spawned directly from the hug.
Dotti has left Roger with “Funny Feelings”, which is going to blossom into interesting tastes when he really starts getting interested in women.
Roger is wishing he was dead right now.
Party Fear Levels:
Roger: 53/100
Franklin: ???/100 (You haven’t seen him for a bit)
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