Words with two meanings

As Nimdok sipped the last of his tea, Ms. Varn’s voice lifted, soft and lilting. “Have you been writing, Nimdok? I hope so. Your words… they’re magic, you know. Like weaving a dream. I could get lost in your stories forever.”

Her praise was genuine, her mismatched eyes sparkling with admiration. The warmth in her tone made his chest tighten, and he had to glance away, pretending to adjust the tea cup on its saucer.

“I’ve… tried,” Nimdok muttered. “It’s hard to find the right words sometimes.”

Ms. Varn leaned on the counter, her tail flicking lazily behind her. “You’re too modest. I’ve read enough to know you’ll create something beautiful. I just hope I’ll always be a part of your world, in one way or another.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. Her eyes locked on his with truth.
 Nimdok swallowed, his mind racing. The affection Ms. Varn felt for him wasn’t subtle, not anymore. It wasn’t just friendly admiration or sibling-like affection. It was something deeper, something complicated.

He knew—without her ever saying it—that her bed was open to him. That if he wanted, he could cross that unspoken boundary and she would welcome it, perhaps even cherish it.

And yet…

Nimdok’s hands tightened around the cup. He couldn’t. Not because he didn’t care, but because he cared too much.

Was Ms. Varn truly interested in him, or had her fractured mind twisted their friendship into something it wasn’t meant to be? Did she see him as a person, or as a figure in her patchwork world of delusions and misplaced affections?

If he accepted her offer, even once, would he be taking advantage of her? Abusing her kindness, her trust, her fractured but beautiful mind?

The questions tore at him, each one a dagger to his already fragile heart. He would rather suffer in silence, carry the weight of unspoken feelings, than risk hurting her.

Ms. Varn’s voice broke through his thoughts, light and teasing. “You’ve gone all quiet, Nimdok. Thinking of your next chapter, or just distracted by my charm?”

He managed a faint smile, setting the cup down. “A little of both, I suppose.”

She chuckled, stepping closer to brush a stray lock of hair from his face. Her touch was gentle, affectionate, and it sent a pang of guilt through him.

“Well, don’t think too hard,” she said softly. “You’re perfect just the way you are.”

The moment lingered, and for a heartbeat, Nimdok thought she might say more. But instead, she leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek, her lips warm and soft.

“Take care of yourself, Nimdok,” she whispered, her voice laced with something bittersweet.

“I will,” he replied, his own voice barely audible.

And with that, he stood, his legs heavy as he moved toward the door.

“Goodbye, Ms. Varn,” he said, forcing himself to turn and meet her gaze one last time.

“Goodbye, Nimdok,” she replied, her smile as radiant as ever, though her eyes seemed to hold a flicker of sadness. or did he imagine it, hope she was sad he left, that she would reach out… but she does not.

As he stepped out into the damp morning air, the door closing softly behind him, Nimdok let out a shaky breath.

He would rather break his own heart a thousand times over than risk breaking hers.