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Description
Folder with all parts and extra art: paardjee.deviantart.com/galler…
Previous part: The Mind is a Dark Place
Next part: Words
I wasn't doing well. Ever since Strike found me stuck in the bushes a few days ago the atmosphere between us had changed. It wasn't a distance. That I would have understood. No. Even more so than before, Strike kept a close eye on me. He seemed more hesitant to ask personal questions but he also didn't leave me alone. Between this and the sleepless nights, I was exhausted. My mind felt like it was on the verge of a breakdown every moment. I honestly didn't expect myself to last for a lot longer. In my mind I played out all kinds of scenarios of how the situation could end. I could leave Strike before I would break down. Be alone again. I could tell him about my situation. Or what if I would breakdown without warning? What if I accidentally hurt Strike in the process? None of these seemed like viable options to me. So I was stuck just going on. Following Strike in his path. Pressing memories to the back of my mind. And not sleeping.

I was so tired. Tired of not sleeping. Tired of fighting against my memories. Tired of keeping secrets for Strike. Countless of times I had imagined telling Strike about my past. Different versions where I would tell him different details of the story. Different versions where Strike would react from horrified to furious. Where he would leave me on the spot or call me horrible things for all the terrible things I had done. My mind played around with these scenes and drove me even more crazy than I already was. I was definitely not doing well.

My scabs were nearly gone but they still itched like hell and they triggered flashbacks. My head was pounding with a nauseating headache. Every step I took felt like torture. When the path started to slope down I silently cursed Strike for leading me this way. My front leg had mostly healed but having all my weight on it downhill made me realize it wasn't quite all right yet. I gritted my teeth together as the numbing pain set in again. Finally my body couldn't take it anymore. The exhaustion and the pain were just too much. I slumped through my leg and slid to the ground. Strike immediately stopped and turned around.

"Shimi! Are you okay?", he asked me with urgency. There were those three annoying words again. How many times had he asked me that redundant question these last few days? I couldn't stand it anymore. "I'm obviously not okay, Strike!", I snapped back at him and he flinched at my reaction. "No matter how many times you ask me, I am never going to be okay!" my voice was loud in my head. I knew I shouldn't be yelling at Strike. But suddenly I was just so angry. And tired. God was I tired. "What are you talking about?" Strike questioned, his eyes searching mine. "Do I look fine to you? Have I ever looked like I was okay?" my voice grew even louder and I rose up on my feet again. "Well I'm not. And that's fine! That's the way it's always been and I'm fine with that. Why can't you be fine with that as well and just leave me alone!" my words were out of control now. I didn't want Strike to leave me. But it seemed like that was all I could do. Destroying things before they could destroy me.

Strike looked shocked. He had definitely not expected me to blow up at him like this. When the shock passed his face scrunched up. "Well I'm not fine with that! You matter to me and I don't want to see you get hurt". "Why do you even care?!" I was yelling now. "Because I like you!" he yelled back at me. My heart stopped. Time even seemed to stop. The air was dead between us as I let those words sink in. They meant more than what they were saying. This could not be happening.

To be continued...

After almost an entire year, the next part of Shimi's story is here!
Would you believe this story is actually very active in my head? I just have trouble writing it all down. Also I had a lot of trouble drawing anything to go along with this particular part. The story had been written for months. I went through a bit of an art block. The first sketch involved both Shimi and Strike but resembled an earlier part where Shimi snapped at Strike before. In the end I just went for something simple. I have the next part almost written out so that one probably won't take me as long

I hope you guys can enjoy some Shimi art and story Poor guy isn't doing well. And now a confession from Strike? Tensions are rising high.

Shimi, story & art: Me Paardjee
No reference used.

Description
Folder with all parts and extra art: paardjee.deviantart.com/galler…
Previous part: The Mind is a Dark Place
Next part: Words
I wasn't doing well. Ever since Strike found me stuck in the bushes a few days ago the atmosphere between us had changed. It wasn't a distance. That I would have understood. No. Even more so than before, Strike kept a close eye on me. He seemed more hesitant to ask personal questions but he also didn't leave me alone. Between this and the sleepless nights, I was exhausted. My mind felt like it was on the verge of a breakdown every moment. I honestly didn't expect myself to last for a lot longer. In my mind I played out all kinds of scenarios of how the situation could end. I could leave Strike before I would break down. Be alone again. I could tell him about my situation. Or what if I would breakdown without warning? What if I accidentally hurt Strike in the process? None of these seemed like viable options to me. So I was stuck just going on. Following Strike in his path. Pressing memories to the back of my mind. And not sleeping.

I was so tired. Tired of not sleeping. Tired of fighting against my memories. Tired of keeping secrets for Strike. Countless of times I had imagined telling Strike about my past. Different versions where I would tell him different details of the story. Different versions where Strike would react from horrified to furious. Where he would leave me on the spot or call me horrible things for all the terrible things I had done. My mind played around with these scenes and drove me even more crazy than I already was. I was definitely not doing well.

My scabs were nearly gone but they still itched like hell and they triggered flashbacks. My head was pounding with a nauseating headache. Every step I took felt like torture. When the path started to slope down I silently cursed Strike for leading me this way. My front leg had mostly healed but having all my weight on it downhill made me realize it wasn't quite all right yet. I gritted my teeth together as the numbing pain set in again. Finally my body couldn't take it anymore. The exhaustion and the pain were just too much. I slumped through my leg and slid to the ground. Strike immediately stopped and turned around.

"Shimi! Are you okay?", he asked me with urgency. There were those three annoying words again. How many times had he asked me that redundant question these last few days? I couldn't stand it anymore. "I'm obviously not okay, Strike!", I snapped back at him and he flinched at my reaction. "No matter how many times you ask me, I am never going to be okay!" my voice was loud in my head. I knew I shouldn't be yelling at Strike. But suddenly I was just so angry. And tired. God was I tired. "What are you talking about?" Strike questioned, his eyes searching mine. "Do I look fine to you? Have I ever looked like I was okay?" my voice grew even louder and I rose up on my feet again. "Well I'm not. And that's fine! That's the way it's always been and I'm fine with that. Why can't you be fine with that as well and just leave me alone!" my words were out of control now. I didn't want Strike to leave me. But it seemed like that was all I could do. Destroying things before they could destroy me.

Strike looked shocked. He had definitely not expected me to blow up at him like this. When the shock passed his face scrunched up. "Well I'm not fine with that! You matter to me and I don't want to see you get hurt". "Why do you even care?!" I was yelling now. "Because I like you!" he yelled back at me. My heart stopped. Time even seemed to stop. The air was dead between us as I let those words sink in. They meant more than what they were saying. This could not be happening.

To be continued...

After almost an entire year, the next part of Shimi's story is here!
Would you believe this story is actually very active in my head? I just have trouble writing it all down. Also I had a lot of trouble drawing anything to go along with this particular part. The story had been written for months. I went through a bit of an art block. The first sketch involved both Shimi and Strike but resembled an earlier part where Shimi snapped at Strike before. In the end I just went for something simple. I have the next part almost written out so that one probably won't take me as long

I hope you guys can enjoy some Shimi art and story Poor guy isn't doing well. And now a confession from Strike? Tensions are rising high.

Shimi, story & art: Me Paardjee
No reference used.