Chapter 2: Ways to Relieve the Stress

It had been two weeks since Naari had finally dated Sven, and she’s been cheerier for it. Counteracting that cheeriness, she had become absentminded, forgetting valuables daily. Fortunately, her love picked up the slack.

The man with the yellow eyes had the purse slung over his shoulder, uncaring of anyone’s opinion of how he appeared. After asking for Naari’s location from a coworker, he found the olive-skinned woman kneeling between two shelves in the kids’ section, tending to a crying boy with an Onion T-shirt.

“I don’t know which one.” The boy sobbed. “Mom says only one because I keep losing them and have to pay late feets.”

“I believe you mean ‘late fees.’ It’s a fixed amount you pay the library based on the number of days literature has failed to return to our establishment.” The boy gave her a blank look before sobbing again. “You could flip a coin to determine which one.”

Sven peered down at the boy. “I recommended the pirate book,” he said with his dull voice. “I read that one a lot when I was a child.”

The boy peered up and recoiled at the man’s eyes, clinging to Naari.

“Yes, the pirate one is well received,” Naari added with an awkward laugh.

The snot goblin turned to the nice librarian. “Mmm. Okay.” He put a book back and ran to his mother.

After the boy left, Sven stole a pleasant view of Naari’s cleavage and bra. He held out the purse, using the fingers as a hook.

“You’re equal to sugar. Thank you.” Naari’s full lips curved upward as she took it.

“You’re wearing aqua blue today,” Sven stated without enthusiasm.

“Aqua blue?” Naari questioned; her nose crinkled curiously. “You have confused me.”

“Frilly as well.” After a pause, Sven said, “Just rambling, dork.”

“How has your current project been going for the children’s hospital?”

“Great, great,” Sven lied, looking elsewhere. “Been making some creative and fun signs. I imagine they’ll love it.”

Sven felt guilty in his failure of creativity. He had a deadline, and it was rapidly approaching. It was also a substantial source of income.

“That’s good.” Then Naari whispered, “I’ve been studying how to become a proper girlfriend and wish to display my earned skills tomorrow. I will come to your office, for it is my day off.”

Sven rubbed Naari’s head. “Dial it down a notch. You don’t have to try so hard. Though, I wouldn’t mind the company tomorrow.”

Naari was a bit annoyed that she was being handled like a child. But she didn’t complain about Sven’s touch. She knew that he was stressed out; anyone could see that. The woman was determined to change that, as she was aiming to be a good girlfriend.

“Gah, this printer’s crap, too?” Lucian slapped the electronic that failed to spew his papers. “I just need a few papers. How hard is it?”

“All printers are crap,” Sven said, not removing his eyes from his laptop. “Doesn’t Farara’s sister have one for school? Use that one.”

“Hmm.” Lucian pondered with a few chin strokes. “Suppose I could shoot her a message. She’s still in class, though, so I’ll have to wait. I miss youth sometimes, man.”

“I don’t,” Sven spat quickly.

There was a knock at the door, followed by a twirl of the doorknob and the entrance of Ms. Noelani. She had a happy hum and a basket covered by a tiny blanket red and white checkered blanket.

“Did you just come from a picnic?” Lucian joked.

“No. I’m using this to transport goods efficiently and stylishly.” Naari grinned at the distracted Sven.

“I can take a hint.” Before Lucian left, he said, “You’re going to make some weird-ass children.”

Without looking, Sven tossed a beanbag frog he had on his desk at Lucian with sharpshooter precision. Lucian panicked and ran away after it slapped him in the nose.

“Nice toss,” Naari chirped. “You’re substantially more athletic than most perceive.”

Sven froze for a second and goggled. “Um. Just luck. Dumb luck. What’s that mess?”

Naari placed the basket on the table. “I have brought a bounty to help your stress.”

“I’m not stressed,” Sven responded, crossing his arms.

The little blanket was pulled away, and lots of treats were revealed. Fruits, chocolates, cookies, and jerky. They were tied with ribbons of varying colors, and organized by said colors.

“I read several relationship books and discovered the idea about a man’s stomach connecting to his heart. I improved such a method by labeling each food based on the treatment of moods. Blue: sad, red: anger, yellow: bladder infection, green: frustration, and pink: heartbreak. I do hope pink won’t be necessary, but I suppose heartbreak can relate to more than romance,” Naari considered, finger on chin and peering upward.

“I can tell you yellow won’t be.” Sven shrugged, grabbed an apple, and took a heavy bite. He spat it out, his tongue wanting to flee. “Why is that so sour?”

“I accumulated the sourest ones,” Naari beamed. “Good for muscle aches.”

Sven avoided the rest of the fruit and tried the cookies. He threw one down past his teeth and nearly spat it back out. Even though she followed instructions to a T, Naari’s baking was consistently awful. His stress increased as he forced a swallow.

“I baked it myself,” Naari giggled.