Speak to Me

Rosalind was stumped. She’d known Deimos for just over a month and she was pretty sure she could still count the amount times he actually talked to her on two hands and maybe one foot. Why didn’t he ever talk to her? Was he self-conscious about his voice or something?

On top of that, despite constant surges of emotions from him, she couldn’t get him to talk or even acknowledge any of them. Surely at some point he’d break down and talk to her, right? Her empathic abilities were getting stronger, and better, all thanks to Deimos. His emotions seemed to be strong even for him, so for it to be exemplified often overwhelmed her. Eventually, after a lot of prying, Deimos finally commented that he had some sort of mental disorder. He just called it bpd, but when Rosalind looked it up, she got two different ones: bipolar disorder (according to one site, it was only supposed to go by “bp,” but many people called it “bpd” still) and borderline personality disorder. Based off his personality and the emotions she’d get from him, she guessed it was the latter. A lot of his common emotions made her heart ache for him. He still had a lot of fear towards himself for what had happened.

It had been quite a few days since she last saw him, too. She was a little worried; the last time she was with him, he was practically emanating depression and sadness. Of course, those emotions were dominant of the ones she got from him, but it seemed stronger than usual. She had a feeling her telepathic abilities were also getting stronger, but when she tried to reach out to him previously, Deimos was unresponsive.

She bit on her pencil as she seem to daze off into a daydream. This class was impressively boring, and so all she could really do was think about the fact that she hadn’t seen Deimos. Her notebook revealed how much of a crush she had on him, with the back page full of silly hearts with their initials, and other things like “Rosalind Beck” in cursive, as if she were practicing her future signature. Even though he still called her kid, even though it was embarrassing to her that she became one of “those girls.” Her teenage mind was convinced this tsundere stand-offish, older teen would one day confess to her. He was attractive, with the body of a Greek god. (pun intended? Probably. She had no idea how he managed this though, considering Deimos seemed to eat only meat. She hadn’t seen him eat a vegetable since they had met.) He had a slight accent still, and he still seemed more comfortable in Greek than English, though he clearly understood English fine. He could read lips of English speakers, which the act of reading lips in itself was impressive to her. How he managed to do so with an unfamiliar language and still get about 90% accuracy on the words was something she was sure she’d never be able to do. Heck, now that she was in a place where she used English so much, she was starting to forget Indonesian.

As the class was dismissed, she wandered to one of hers and Deimos’ usual meeting places. Finally, she found him coming out from another classroom. She ran to catch up with him (curse his beautiful long legs), tapping on his back once she was close enough. He spun around, at first seeming angry at who wanted to bother him now before he realized it was Rosalind.

“What?” He asked her, but didn’t really give her a chance to answer as he looked to the ground.

Rosalind realized quickly that depression was still there. He was still in a dark place, she could tell. It was a feeling she hadn’t felt for a little over month herself. Despite her own memory of the feelings, she wished she knew how to help him. She moved so she was in the path of his view. “I feel like it’s been forever since I saw you! Where’ve you been?” She asked him,

Deimos turned away again, seeming insistent on ignoring her. Rosalind huffed, chasing after him. This was a common thing she had to do. For as much as he liked having her around (not that he admitted it, but she could thank her empathic powers for knowing this fact), he sure was frustrating to keep in one place. Deimos! She cried out, deciding to try it.

Deimos visibly jumped, turning so fast he had to extend an arm out to the wall to stablize himself. The look on his face was one of extreme confusion.

“It worked!” Rosalind squeaked excitedly, doing a small victory jump before going up to Deimos again.

Deimos’ upper lip was twitching, his mouth seeming stuck in a snarl. “What the hell did you just do?”

What, this? Rosalind asked him, cheekily acting innocent.

He looked around again before snapping his head back to her, “You’re doing this? This is your voice?” He asked her, every part of him visibly confused.

Rosalind nodded. I have telepathy, but I only recently realized it was getting stronger. She explained to him, as if it were obvious.

“How do I… Do I just…” Deimos didn’t seem to know how to ask his question.

How do you..? Rosalind asked hesitantly before realizing what he was trying to ask. “Oh!” She said out loud before going back to using her telepathy. I think if you just aim your thoughts towards me, it will reach me more specifically than when it accidentally happens.


Deimos didn’t like that answer. His face turned to a frown, and his mind and emotions suddenly seemed more guarded.

She can’t know. Deimos thought to himself, shaking his head slightly without realizing it. He turned, motioning to try to leave again. He couldn’t let Rosalind know about his suicide attempt. He didn’t really have an exact reason, but a part of him was convinced he’d lose her as a friend. How could he open his mind to her when something like that was still too fresh? He’d only just been allowed to leave the infirmary that morning, there was no way he’d be able to hide something like that with something this unfamiliar.

Deimos, what’s wrong? Rosalind asked him, and he jumped again. He used to not hearing anything. Slightly getting the baseline from some music, sure, but that was it. And now suddenly, he could make out Rosalind’s voice. He knew what she sounded like. It was bizarre, to say the least. The sound of her voice kept shocking him. He looked away, “Nothing. I don’t want to try.” He said before continuing to walk away. She was too young to be burdened with something like this, someone like him. He still couldn’t understand why she hung around him all the time. It wasn’t like he was nice to her. He wasn’t necessarily mean, but he reserved that for the students that had rumors crossing their lips. He avoided looking around anymore, too many students whispered about it, he didn’t want to be reminded. He’d be fine never having to think about that day again.

Besides, no one cared that he was attacked first. No one cared how he felt, well… almost no one. He turned back around, and Rosalind nearly ran into him. She had been quiet, so her presence shocked him, and he guessed she was giving him time to brood. Why won’t you just leave me alone? He thought in a bit of whine, what he meant to be to himself.

Because I don’t want to. Rosalind told him, pouting.

Deimos eyed her wearily; great, now they were connected or something. How often would he accidentally project thoughts to her? He didn’t need that, he felt like he wore her down enough with her just getting his emotions. He growled and turned back around, if he could make it to his dorm, she would typically not follow him in there. She didn’t seem comfortable around most guys, which meant he could avoid her as long as he stayed in his dorm. However, as he was about to go in, he heard her voice again, Deimos, I haven’t seen you in nearly a week… Can’t we hang out a bit? We can get food or something… She requested. Deimos sighed, motioning for her to wait a moment before going inside. His roommates were there, and the look they gave him told him he didn’t want to be here anyway. He unpacked his bag of school supplies, tossing them on his bed. His hand lingered on a pill bottle, and he pulled it out with a sigh. This was his fate now, he thought to himself, staring at the bottle of ibuprofen. It was the strongest dosage he could get without a prescription, and it was all he’d get now. He deserved this, probably. Didn’t make it any less frustrating. He dumped the pill bottle back in his bag and changed into a thin, fitted, long sleeve shirt. He was surprised Rosalind hadn’t noticed some fresh scars from just that morning. Or if she had, she hadn’t said anything.

Finally, he went back out, seeing Rosalind waiting patiently. He opened his mouth before realizing something. This link or whatever they had was a prime excuse to not have to talk. It was weird, talking, especially since a hearing person could know what their voice sounded like. Knew if they had an accent, or… or weren’t a selective mute. He let out a defeated sigh before consciously trying to project a thought to her, So how does this work…? He asked hesitantly.

Rosalind perked up at his using the telepathy, and she smiled to him, taking his hand, Just like that~! She told him excitedly, taking his hand and leading him to the cafeteria.

He resisted slightly, partially because he had no idea why anyone would want to get to the cafeteria quickly, but partially just to give her a hard time. He wasn’t particularly hungry, if he were honest with himself, but he could go for a coffee at least. He realized this telepathy thing was like using sign language, but without having to move his hands either. The epitome of laziness. He could get used to this.

Whatchu thinking about? Rosalind asked him cutely.

He tensed, stopping himself from jumping a mile. Or maybe he’d never get used to it. Never in a thousand years.