That was how she came to find herself in the attic now. Sorting through dust and old furniture, to find what was worth restoration and what was beyond repair. It seemed to all have been shoved up in the attic rather indiscriminately, and in great haste. The chaos of it all was satisfying in its own way; she preferred cooking to cleaning, but there was a great pleasure to be found in bringing order where there had been none before.
The conversation had taken a somewhat winding sort of path. When she woke most days, Aremu was already gone. Running, or swimming, or climbing some cliff, or something along those lines—he seemed to devote rather a lot of his time to exercise, as far as she could tell. Aurelie had to admit, it was starting to seem like a good idea. She had never been one for sport, before, but she'd never had much need. Scuttling around campus or keeping on her feet in the kitchen all day covered her rather nicely in that department, and she'd never really had to think on it much. It was her third day on the island when she had expressed a desire for more physical activity.
To that end, she had somewhat reluctantly agreed to swimming lessons later in the day. While it was true that she didn't know how, and that it seemed like it might be an enjoyable sort of thing to do, she really wasn't too certain about the whole affair. It was only after that they had discussed the attic, and that she would start both activities at the same time.
Getting up here had been something of an interesting experience. She hadn't realized at the time that the only way up here was through Aremu's room. Surely there was another entrance—but no, there wasn't. Just this sort of hole in the ceiling that had once had a ladder leading up to it and didn't anymore. Aremu, she learned, just sort of lifted himself up here if he needed to be here. That was also how she came to be up in the attic. Not her own lifting, she wasn't nearly tall enough for that. No, of course not. That would have been too dignified, and a blessing after the embarrassment of realizing she had to stand in a man's bedroom. Aremu's bedroom.
No, he had to lift her up so she could crawl in there herself. Because of course he did.
It had been quite honestly one of the more awkward experiences of her life thus far. She thought many others should have ranked higher, and yet placed this one firmly near the top. Aremu had been a perfect gentleman about of course. As much as one can be, attempting to lift a great squeaking idiot into a hole in one's ceiling. She had squeaked, quite a lot. Ahura had brought with her clothes, as promised, for which Aurelie would be eternally grateful. She did not think she could do laundry at a pace to keep up with her wearing the things she had brought, given she only had one set.
Still. Bells and chimes but Aurelie had not considered the difference even in the matter of one's underthings. There were many fewer layers to the manner of dress here—although she had, at least, kept her arms and legs covered. It made everything feel strangely—immediate. In terms of someone needing to lay a hand on her to assist in the climbing process. That had startled her so greatly she had almost sent them both crashing to the floor; they had persevered in the end. A small blessing, but a blessing. An additional blessing came in the form of her being up her by herself for the most part; plenty of time for all the warmth to recede from her face. Most of it. Some of it.
The attic itself was more of a crawlspace than an attic proper. Large, but she didn't think it had been finished when the rest of the house had been and it was a bit precarious. Dry and stuffy as well, with great quantities of dust, and an uneven distribution of ceiling height. Aremu was working in the room below her while she sorted. In case she needed him. She had been much too flustered to argue, and so it was. Aurelie, honestly, tried not to think about it. She had a task to do, and that task was not think about Aremu Ediwo in his bedroom.
"Chimes!" Aurelie opened a box a little too hastily and sent up another cloud of dust. She coughed, briefly, and then peered inside the box. It seemed to be a collection of—well, everything. Old letters, mostly, and some postcards. A few specs, too. They looked old, and they were carefully framed. A few portraits of what she assumed to be Uzoji's relatives. She knew she should close the box and put it all away. There was no sorting things like this; they would be set aside for Aremu to tell her what she should do with them later. Likely just rearranged up here. But she was drawn in by the specs, finding herself smiling at all of those solemn faces.
Towards the bottom of the box was one in particular, of two young boys. They looked to be about eight or nine years old, and were smartly dressed. One of them, Aurelie realized with glee, she thought she recognized. There was more fullness in the cheeks, yes, but that serious dark face was the same. The same knitting of the eyebrows. Oh, it just had to be! The boy next to him must be Uzoji, then, at the same age. She thought she could see it, but she knew his face much less well.
Only one way to know for certain. Aurelie scooted herself to the edge of the hole that led to the attic. Carefully, she leaned over it so that just her face hung below. There was a smudge of dust across her cheek, and more of it in her hair. Her smile was bright and pleased. "Aremu, I've found something I must ask you about. If you have a minute?"