I Fell in Love with Hope - Lancali

Looking at her bandages and the otherwise healthy nature of her
being, I want to ask her the same, but–
“You’re not supposed to ask that,” I lie. And rather than nod or say
she understands, another easy fit of laughter shakes Hikari’s chest.
Three beats again. As if her heart is laughing with her.
“What, like prison? What are you in for, Sam?”
“Apparently, I’m an accomplice to petty larceny.”
“Good,” she says, the word paired with flirtatious endnotes. “Then
this won’t be your first time.”
The elevator doors open, but neither Hikari nor I make a move.
I told you I like to watch people, but sometimes I struggle talking to
them.
When you’ve lived in the same place as long as I have, you find that
people
don’t know what to say to someone they think is dying. People feel
awkward around the sick, so they pretend the sickness is invisible.
They avoid the elephant in the room so blatantly that you can tell it’s
all they’re thinking about. They create distance without even
meaning to because distance is comfortable.
But not everyone gets stuck in that pattern. Hikari thinks I’m dying. I
know she is. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be here needing a tour guide
who’s been convinced to help her commit a crime instead. Yet
somehow, whatever distance I create, Hikari wants to close it—with
her curiosity, her teasing tone, her pretty looks, and her even prettier
language.
“You’re not very skilled at conversation, are you, Sam?”
Crap. I was staring again.