Prompt Writing

"You always smile like you're about to cry," he said quietly.
"Nonsense. Where did that come from?" My expression changed. Whatever did he see?

He looked at me, eyes observed more than judged. Alas, he had a knack for unearthing the hidden. To my surprise, he looked away.

I followed his gaze. The paddy fields swayed in the wind. Water glistened in the hot midday sun, our shade a wide mango tree.

"Alright. You're not going to cry. Then, anything bothering you? I can lend an ear." he told the wind.

"No... nothing," I paused despite myself. The wind filled the silence. Insects buzzed in their habitat. Small but resounded.

"It's your father isn't it?"

My throat tightened. Stop. Stop it. I was fine. I couldn't afford to be emotional. What's more, the case was technical. I won't talk about it because nothing ever bothered me.

However, another part of me said 'bullseye'. This traitorous part of me yearned to waste others' time simply to speak of its problems. It selfishly wanted to be heard. It shed tears. If anyone asked, it wasn't me. I didn't cry.

"... Yeah."