[Closed] The Miles Won't Phase Me

[Aremu Ediwo]

Midday, Hamis 18, 2720
The Ibutatu Estate, Isla Dzum

There was a touch of embarrassment in Aurelie’s voice. Aremu thought he might have had scones - the name was familiar at least - but he couldn’t quite place them. “We can at least try,” he offered, a little note of hopefulness in his voice. “If you like. I don’t know how easy it should be without an oven, but - I do really eat almost everything.”

It’s worked quite well so far, he wanted to say, but he didn’t want to go on too much, or to put any pressure on her. I had thought we might try some cookies with it, first, he wanted to say, so you could get a feel for it. I didn’t do much with the oven; perhaps it is too different in the end, but - at least to try? He held off; she had been here scarcely a few hours. It was an entirely different sort of unpleasant guilt now; he swallowed, and didn’t try to push it aside, because he knew he deserved it.

Aremu glanced at her again over his shoulder, when she went on to muffins. This, at least, he thought he could solve; he could picture muffins only a little more clearly than scones, unfortunately. “Do they need a special pan? There’s a good blacksmith in the village - if we tell him what we need, I think he could make something, if you’d like.”

Aurelie drifted closer, and Aremu felt an odd pang. He hadn’t meant to disturb her; he’d wanted not to. But there was a bright curious look on her face, and she was smiling at him.

“A sweet stuffed flatbread,” Aremu said; smiling was easier than it had been, and he tried not to think too much of it. He set a flat pan on the stove, letting it warm up. “This is jaggery,” he showed her the sticky mass of it; he set a grater down flat on the counter, and ran the jaggery over it several times, with smooth firm notions of his arms.

“It’s made from our own sugar cane,” Aremu said with the faintest little hint of pride. “Here,” he pinched up a bit and offered it to Aurelie with a hopeful little smile. “Try it.” It was a richer taste than sugar, less even, with something almost spicy to offset the sweetness of it.

Aremu hovered his hand over the pan; feeling it warm, he pinched up some of the sesame seeds and settled them on to it. “I’ve started the dough,” Aremu said, smiling back at Aurelie. “I’d do much the same for a savory filling, but I thought something sweet - I hope you don’t mind...?”

His fingers settled over the handle of the pan, and he moved it in small, even, rhythmic motions, gently stirring the sesame seeds without knocking them over the edge of it. When they began to crackle, softly, and darken, he poured them off the pan and replaced them with of bit of poppy seeds, doing the same. He did the same there, working in steady, even motions.

Last, he added the dried coconut. By now the smell of roasting spices was filling the kitchen; Aremu’s stomach grumbled again in protest.

“For the filling, I’ll grind these, and mix them with a bit of cooked flour, ghee and the the jaggery,” Aremu explained. He slid the toasted coconut off as well, and set the pan to the side to cool, “and, I think, cardamom and nutmeg.”

As he waited, Aremu took out a mortar and pestle; he ran his fingers through the sesame seeds, light and quick, still waiting for them to cool. He paused, and looked up at Aurelie with a little smile. “Shall I add anything else?” He asked, searching her face for a moment, smiling still.

[Aurelie Steerpike]

Hamis 18, 2720 - Midday | The Ibutatu Estate, Isla Dzum

"Only almost?" There was the barest trace of a teasing kind of warmth to the question; she wasn't good at it, this sort of friendly poking fun, but she did try. "I would like to try. M-maybe not the violet ones, those were... Er, well. They call for candied violets also, which I don't suppose you have. Oh. Hmm." She paused, thinking. "Milk or cream, too, actually. So we would have to... to get that. Another day?"

Almost, she hadn't asked. It felt like it was assuming much, asking about trying to make something that required ingredients that were clearly not regularly kept on hand. Or they hadn't been. There was an imposition there, and Aurelie had wanted to shrink back from it. But she found herself wanting to try, the two of them together, if they could. Not today, of course. But there were other days. How many, she didn't know--but more of them, at least. She didn't let herself think much more than that.

As she drew closer, he asked her then about the muffins. She felt a little flustered in a pleasant, silly kind of way. If milk felt like too much effort, then what about this? Except that Aremu had offered, so it couldn't be too terrible a burden. Could it? Unless it was one of those things that one offered in the hopes that the offer would be declined. No, there was no sense in thinking that way. She began to nod, to at least accept the idea, when she stopped, laughing.

"The pan will do us very little good without the oven, I'm afraid. I think. A puzzle for later?" She came over to stand closer, then, and asked what Aremu was making. The question was rewarded with an answer and another smile. All the better that she'd asked, then. As she watched him grate the jaggery, she noticed that his sleeve was up higher than it was before. Practical, out of the way--she couldn't quite have said why that pleased her so.

Aurelie held out her palm obediently, taking the pinch offered to her. She had expected a taste much more like sugar; it wasn't entirely dissimilar, of course. But there was more to it than the rather simpler flavor sugar had. She left it on her tongue a moment, thinking. It was a bit like brown sugar as well, but still not quite the same. Aurelie considered it more while Aremu continued, adding spices to the pan one at a time.

"Not at all," she said, shaking her head. She tilted her head, face bright. "I also eat almost anything, but I... I am rather fond of sweets. Perhaps too much," she confessed with a wrinkle of her nose. It was hard to hold the sour expression on her face for long; everything smelled very good, after all.

Yes, she thought when Aremu looked up at her again after getting out the mortar and pestle, the smile did settle well on his face. Perhaps better for the seeming rarity of it, but Aurelie didn't think so. She chewed on her lip thoughtfully, then shrugged her narrow shoulders and shook her head, bright red swishing softly against her face.

"I have no idea," she admitted cheerfully. "I only know how to make Anaxi food. Ginger, maybe? Whatever you like. That's the advantage of being the one making something." She couldn't hold his eyes for long; Aurelie looked away to the rest of the kitchen after a moment. Smiling still, face just a little warm under the scrutiny.

[Aremu Ediwo]

Midday, Hamis 18, 2720
The Ibutatu Estate, Isla Dzum

Only almost, she asked, and Aremu had needed to double-check his understanding, for a moment. There was a shy sort of warmth to her voice. She was teasing him, he thought, albeit in a very Anaxi sort of way. He smiled a little more. “Well, I try to keep to the edible things,” Aremu said, flicking a glance at her and grinning a little wider.

“No,” Aremu said, thoughtfully; he thought violets were flowers, and had not the least idea why would you make candy of them. “Oh, yes – we do usually keep milk, so that’s no trouble. There’s a man who has the goats in the village; he’ll come by and deliver every few days, now that I’m back. Ahura makes yogurt of it, if there’s no other use.”

“Anything else we want,” Aremu went on, “we can get from Western Port or else Laus Oma, either directly or indirectly. I’m not sure about candied violets, but I can inquire, if you want them.”

“A puzzle for later,” Aremu agreed, frowning a little. It would be best, he felt, to work out the details once she had used the stove; then she’d have a better sense of what she needed.

There was, he realized slowly, no rush. He felt oddly as if she might decide to leave at any moment; it was as if the truth might catch her, and she should turn and flee. She had the right; he knew that. He thought at least… the least he could do, he thought, was to try and make her stay pleasant, in the meanwhile. It wasn’t that he thought it would keep her from leaving; it was just that there was a part of him that hoped she should look back on it, and feel at least a little glad, alongside whatever else.

Aremu grinned; they’d written a little of how they both liked sweets. I don’t think so, he wanted to say, but it felt differently, suddenly, with her standing just next to him and the outlines of her collarbones just visible, if he forgot not to look down. “I’m definitely overfond,” he said instead, cheerfully. “I’m very glad to have learned so much about cookies.”

“I think ginger sounds good,” Aremu fetched a small root from the cabinets. He hesitated, glancing down at the knob of it. His jaw clenched, just a little.

Then, as if it was nothing to him, he set his right wrist on the bit of it, and held it in place; his left hand fetched out a soft spoon, and he peeled it, quickly and easily, shifting it around. His shoulders came up, tight, as he started, and then loosened as he kept at it. He ran the ginger over the grater next, shaving it into small pieces, and set them aside as well.

The flat skillet was cool now; Aremu put some of the ghee on it, mixed with a bit of the gram flour, and began to heat it once more. He took a wooden spoon, pushing them around together, until it just came together dark, and he shifted it off the heat.

Next he put the seeds and coconut together in the mortar and pestle; he ground them, steadily and evenly, until only dust remained. All of the spices, and the cardamom and nutmeg too, he mixed with the jiggery, and the flour-ghee mixture in a bowl, washing his hand and nursing it carefully until just combined.

Next, Aremu uncovered the dough once more; he tested it with his fingertips, and decided it just combined enough. He pinched it off into small balls, making six in total; he set them spaced apart on the countertop, and emerged with a heavy rolling pin. One handed, his right wrist helping to stabilize it, he rolled them out, evenly, into small flat rounds.

“Now,” Aremu murmured, “we just…” he glanced up at Aurelie, somewhat surprised to find he was still smiling. He divided the filling between them, and carefully pinched each of the dough balls around it, his long fingers shaping the dough together. He floured them, carefully, and rolled them out once more, lightly and evenly. This part he worked at, intently; not even a drop of filling squeezed out of the edges.

Aremu grinned, looking down at the six stuffed breads he’d made. “And then,” he grinned once more at Aurelie, “I fry them. Should we make more tea to have with it?” He’d left his behind on the table; even the tea pot, he thought, wouldn’t be hot anymore, unfortunately.

Aremu put more ghee onto the flat pan; he let it warm, just crackling, and slid the first of the breads onto it. He cooked it, and flipped it over in a single smooth motion, revealing the golden brown bottom and letting the top get to the same place. With another even motion of the pan, he slid it back off, and began the next one. This part, too, he enjoyed; it was a challenge to listen and smell for just the right moment, when the flatbread was just finished.

It wasn’t long before all six were done, and stacked one on top of the other on a plate covered in thin muslin. Aremu washed his hand, and set off by the sink everything which he should need to clean, later. He carried the plate to the table, and set it down, letting Aurelie handle the tea.

“Go on,” Aremu said, a little eagerly. He didn’t think he could try one until she had, as silly as it was.

[Aurelie Steerpike]

Hamis 18, 2720 - Midday | The Ibutatu Estate, Isla Dzum

Aurelie had already forgotten that Aremu had been gone for a month or so--of course, of course there were no perishables in the house. Truly, what she had mostly forgotten is that he was the only full-time occupant of the house, as far as she knew. It was strange to her, surrounded as she had always been by other people, to be alone in a house. Strange, and lonely too. Well--she had been lonely still, surrounded by others. So perhaps that didn't matter much, in the end.

She didn't know what to say to that offer to find candied violets if she should want them. No, she thought, that recipe had proven a disaster. No, because they are sure to be harder to find here. No, because--I wouldn't want to be an imposition. She didn't say of this, just kept smiling and tucked the offer away in her heart to remember for later.

"Oh, good!" The suggestion of ginger had been unsure; it just seemed as though it couldn't possibly hurt. She liked ginger quite a lot, actually. The candied kind, at least, which she found pleasantly sharp. More sharp than it was sweet, and most she knew who had tried it didn't much care for it. But just like the tamarind, she enjoyed the sometimes overwhelming taste of it. She hoped it had sounded like a genuinely good addition, and that he wasn't just indulging her--although, she reflected, even if it weren't very good, that would be something to know.

Aremu hesitated; just for a moment, but because she was watching, she saw it. The pause, the tightening of the muscles in his jaw. She didn't understand at first. Had the suggestion been poor, after all? It was only when he brought his right wrist up that she thought she did. She wondered if she should say something, to... She didn't know what she could say; she wasn't quite sure what the concern was. He was as he was, and Aurelie had never known him any differently. The tense line of his shoulders loosened eventually, and she decided against it.

Aurelie watched the rest of the process carefully. Not getting in the way was somewhat difficult--Aurelie kept managing to find herself a hair's breadth away from leaning in to look more closely. A defense mounted itself in her mind; of course she wanted to watch, she had never seen anyone making this before. She didn't even really know what the end results would be. It was interesting and new, and Aurelie hadn't had the chance to introduce much that was truly new into her cooking repertoire in a long time.

It was on such a leaning-in sort of moment that Aremu looked up again and was still smiling at her. Aurelie's face got warmer as if on reflex. She looked back down quickly, winding her fingers together in front of her and leaning away slowly so as not to draw attention to the motion. Aremu had, she noticed as she watched him pinch the dough around the filling skillfully, rather long fingers. She had thought this before, but her attention was drawn again to the idea. Her own she felt were rather short; she had small hands overall. Much smaller, at least, and she knew this for a fact. There had been ample time for the comparison on the airship.

That was not helping the redness in her face. It had all seemed like an acceptable idea at the time, she thought. She had been distraught. And unsteady. And... Bells and chimes. She was truly an idiot. Aremu finished filling the last of the breads and grinned at her, in that way that shifted all his face.

"Yes, that sounds like a perfectly lovely idea." The tea had gotten cold, and that wouldn't do. No matter that the day was hot; the tea was no colder than the air, and so wouldn't even be pleasant in that way. Aurelie busied herself with collecting the cups from the kitchen table while Aremu began to cook each of the breads in the pan. She paused to watch a moment, but didn't let herself linger.

No, she had a task to do now too, and she was happy to do it. Happy to do anything useful, really. It felt good to be able to do something even so small as make another pot of tea while Aremu did something else. It was, she reflected, the first useful thing she had done in days. Some of her exhaustion dissipated in the task.

While the kettle was reheating on the stove, Aurelie washed the cups they had used and the teapot as well. The water came to a boil as the bread was finished. She moved out of the way of the sink and set the tea to steep. Not long after Aremu carried the plate to the table, she felt the tea was done--she knew better now how to time it, and felt more certain it hadn't been over-steeped. Not this time.

She brought the cups over and set one in front of Aremu and the other in front of where she had been sitting before. When she sat, she laughed again; there was something charming about his eagerness. Like he was showing off; Aurelie couldn't imagine anyone trying to impress her, really, but she let herself be amused by the thought.

"It looks very good," she said as she tore off a reasonable piece. She put it in her mouth, chewing in the sort of slow, considering way she had of trying everything. The bite was washed down with a small sip of the tea, and she grinned.

"I wasn't sure quite what to picture, but--that is very good. We have nothing at all like it, in Anaxas--or if we do, I certainly haven't heard of it." Without much further prompting or reservation, she tore off another piece.

[Aremu Ediwo]

Midday, Hamis 18, 2720
The Ibutatu Estate, Isla Dzum

As Aremu fried the flatbreads, Aurelie hurried off. Her small face was bright red again, Aremu noticed; he wondered if it was the heat, because he didn’t think she’d said anything she might have been embarrassed about, this time. There was a cool breeze off the ocean, and he didn’t think it too warm even in the small kitchen, not with the windows open, but – thinking of the cold rain in Brunnhold just two days ago, he understood how different it must be for her, or at least he tried to.

She whisked away to make tea all the same, and by the time she brought the cups to the table, the red flush in her cheeks had faded. She was smiling now, and he was too; she laughed, even, and reached for the flatbreads.

Aremu relaxed a little more, slowly, smiling. His fingertips ran along the patterns on the cup, tracing the edges of the vines and flowers as he watched her.

It looks good, Aurelie told him, and Aremu grinned at her. He thought perhaps he shouldn’t watch her so, but he did want to know what she thought of it. She took a little bite of it, very slowly – the moment stretched out for him, even longer, the thoughtful look on her small, freckled face, all her hair tousled around it.

The first thing I’ve cooked for her, Aremu thought, absurdly, and he set it aside.

She grinned at him then, and Aremu realized he’d stopped, for just a moment. His grin came back, all the wider, and he reached for the bread below hers, leaving her the one she’d started on. He set it down in front of himself, ripping off a piece, and eating it. “Nothing quite like this, I think,” Aremu said, cheerfully. “I’ve had crepes, of course – although perhaps those are only Bastian? But I’m given to understand jaggery isn’t widely eaten in Anaxas. The coconut comes from the estate too, actually; we’ve a few trees, not enough to harvest properly, but enough to eat some and to dry some.”

It was good, Aremu felt; he could just taste the spiciness of the ginger in it, and he was pleased she’d suggested it. His stomach had been like a fist, by the end, with the smell of all the spices in the air, and then the bread frying in the ghee; the first few bites unclenched it, and he exhaled out the last of the tension.

The tea, too, was good with it; Aremu took a sip of it. This one, he thought, wasn’t quite so bitter. He hoped – but Aurelie had actually looked almost pleased that he’d asked, Aremu thought. He thought, too, that he understood to make of that.

He smiled at her, across the kitchen; he tore off another piece of the flatbread, and ate that as well. The silence between them was comfortable and easy, and Aremu relaxed into it, enjoying the sweetness of the filling and the starchy ghee-flavored bread, the warm bohea note of the tea, the tingling sea-salt breeze, and the warm wash of island sun. It was only a moment, and he knew it would – must – end, but he found he could savor it, all the same.

[Aurelie Steerpike]

Hamis 18, 2720 - Midday | The Ibutatu Estate, Isla Dzum

Given how often she had watched people in just such a way, Aurelie supposed it was fair that Aremu should watch her face while she tried that first piece. It was important, to see the reaction as it happened. She had always felt so at least, and didn't think it was unique to her alone. Still, his dark eyes on her did make her a little self-conscious. Unaccountably so, and she did her best to ignore it. She was focusing. That was important, too.

While she concentrated, the grin had dropped off his face. It returned in answer to her own, wider than it had been before. That pleased her more than anything. More, even, than finally having work to do. She licked her thumb in between a bite. With the other hand she reached out and took the whole piece she had started on and moved it in front of her.

"Bastian, yes, but I've made them once or twice. And jaggery isn't eaten in Anaxas much at all—I've never even heard of it." She wasn't the least bit shy to admit her ignorance here. It wasn't like he couldn't have assumed so already. Where would she have come to know of it? "If it is anywhere, certainly we—they—at Brunnhold, it doesn't feature. Not on the regular menu, at least."

Aurelie hadn't thought she was hungry before, but perhaps she had been. It had been difficult for her of late to keep track of things like hunger, like sleep—she couldn't have said why, precisely. Certainly her routine had been disrupted—destroyed completely—by their abrupt departure. But it had started before then, she was certain of it. Sleep had come to her uneasily and filled with half-remembered dreams. When she did eat, she ate in snatches throughout the day when she thought on how long it had been since she had done so.

In fact, it was only two days ago that she had felt truly hungry at all. Whatever the reason, she was now; she tucked in to the sweet bread in front of her with an only mildly restrained enthusiasm. It was a nice kind of quiet, that didn't beg her to fill it. The tea and the warmth of the kitchen and the sweet bread all filled her so completely she hadn't much room to worry about anything else. All of it was more restful than any of the sleep she had managed in a long time.

When they had finished, Aurelie looked to the plate, and thought of what needed cleaning that had been set by the sink. Her fingers itched; she felt restless suddenly. As if the moment of pause had returned enough energy to her that she could think again about how her hands were empty, and her schedule similarly so.

"Did you have more to do? I can clean up if you'd—" Aurelie paused, looking at her hands. She flexed them and a flicker of a frown went across her face while she thought. She wasn't phrasing that quite properly. After a moment she looked back up. "I would like to, if that's all right. It does me good to occupy my hands."

[Aremu Ediwo]

Midday, Hamis 18, 2720
The Ibutatu Estate, Isla Dzum

Aremu finished his flatbread before Aurelie. He contemplated the pile of them for a moment, and contemplated his own hunger; then, unhesitatingly, he took a second and set to work on it. It was a little cooler, a little crisper, than the first had been, but no worse for it. He could, probably, have made three instead of six, Aremu knew, but they kept well for a day or two, and he did like them.

He ate the second with the same comfortable ease as the first, and drank the last sip of tea when he had finished. He felt considerably better; the sense of his confession as a weight around his neck had faded, somewhat. It was still there, and he could not let himself think otherwise. But he found it lighter, at least, and he was grateful for that.

I can clean up, Aurelie began, and Aremu looked up at her, and started to shake his head. A man cleaned up his own messes; he had felt it so for many years. He was, perhaps, not quite a man, but he was enough of one for this. She was a guest, besides. No, he wanted to say, don’t worry about it.

I would like to, she said, instead of asking if he would like her to. Aremu frowned a little, looking at her. He shifted on his chair, thinking it over.

“All right,” Aremu said, after a moment. He found a smile for her. “Thank you.”

It felt wrong to him still, seeing her take the plates and cups to the sink, and begin all the washing and the putting away. He watched her for a moment, her small hands strong and competent as she set about it; he tried to imagine what he would see on her face, if he could have seen it.

Aremu set the plate of flatbreads aside, wrapping the cloth he had put underneath around it. He took the ledger again, sliding it in front of him, and the stack of papers beside. He glanced over at Aurelie, but she was well in it, and he wasn’t quite sure what he should do.

We could take a walk, he wanted to suggest. That was silly; they’d made plans already to go down to the village, in perhaps another house. I could show you the library again - if you like - if you want to pick out something to do. What do you want? That was perhaps what he most wanted to ask, and he had the oddest sense that she had already answered him: she wanted to do the dishes.

He thought he should at least - Aremu shifted. He didn’t open the ledger just yet; he came, and leaned beside the sink and smiled down at her. It was something like satisfaction, he thought, on her small freckled face, and the worst of it was that he did understand.

“I thought we’d leave for the village in a house or so,” Aremu said. His arms crossed over his chest, his right wrist tucked out of sight, though not in his pocket. “I do have some things to do, but they’re not so urgent, really. If - if there’s anything you need...” he couldn’t quite manage to ask in the end. He trailed off there, smiling at her. He thought maybe there was something a little sad in it, and he didn’t know which of them it was for. If you want company, he wanted to say, but he could not quite make it so.

[Aurelie Steerpike]

Hamis 18, 2720 - Midday | The Ibutatu Estate, Isla Dzum

There had been a brief moment where Aurelie thought Aremu would said no, and she found herself oddly bracing for it. It was not as if she had a great zeal for doing the washing up, not really. And she couldn't very will insist that he let her do the dishes if he truly didn't want her to. She would never press the point, but she would have been disappointed in some strange way.

The activity didn't matter. Aurelie merely needed to be occupied, and usefully so. The request seemed to have made him uncomfortable, which she regretted. Yet somehow she couldn't regret the asking of it, or how glad she was that he agreed to let her do it. She smiled back, surely too gleeful for someone about to wash dishes.

Aurelie took the plates and cups to the sink, and set them next to what was there before. She rolled up her sleeves and pushed them up and over her elbows. There was, she thought looking at them for a moment, no avoiding all that this revealed. There were more than a few freckles on her forearms, and more scars than it perhaps seemed like with the sheer sleeves covering them. Many were pale, minor marks from minor injuries sustained long ago. She did mark somewhat easily, by her own estimation. They took longer to fade than they were serious.

None of it really mattered. This discussion had already been had, and what self-consciousness she might have wanted to feel she pushed down. Now was hardly the time. She had asked to do the dishes, and she was certainly not going to follow up such an odd request with changing her mind. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Aremu wrapping the flatbreads up with a cloth, and taking out the ledger again. She turned her glance back to the soapy water in front of her.

In a moment she looked up again to find he had come to stand next to the sink, smiling down at her. Aurelie paused briefly to smile back, and then resumed the work. There weren't that many dishes to do, truthfully; she wouldn't be at the task overlong. Her nose started to itch, as it always seemed to when she had her hands covered in something she would rather not have on her face. She twitched it, trying to dispel the feeling. It rarely worked, but she always tried as if this time it might.

"Need?" Aurelie looked back over, thinking about the question. Aremu was still smiling at her as he had been a moment before. Aurelie had never seen someone who could smile so much like a frown. She shook her head a little, and then stopped. "I don't need anything. But, uhm. I don't mind company if you—if you have nowhere else to be...? I'm not a terribly good conversationalist though, as I'm sure you've... noticed." She laughed a little.

The itching was intolerable. Aurelie twitched her nose again, hopelessly. "I'm sorry," she continued with an embarrassed sort of look on her face. "I'm, er, I'm sure this is very... odd. Of me. Well not for me, I suppose, but in comparison to other people... in general... Ah." Aurelie shrugged and smiled again, before starting to rinse off all the dishes she had washed.

[Aremu Ediwo]

Midday, Hamis 18, 2720
The Ibutatu Estate, Isla Dzum

Aurelie had rolled up her sleeves. Her small arms looked about as he expected, at least in terms of shape and size. Aremu had, of course, seen the lines of them through the sheer fabric. The freckles though – he ought to have known, of course, from the ones on her face and hands, and even the little cluster on one small exposed ankle, but he hadn’t quite put the full picture together. She had little scars and marks, too, although nothing that looked to him as if it would have been serious; they were a match for the calluses on her hands, and the easy, competent way that she was scrubbing the dishes.

Aremu was abruptly conscious that he wanted to touch them.

Perhaps he had known for a while; if he let himself think about it, he had. He shouldn’t have thought about it now; he thought it was best not to give it to acknowledging the desire. He did want to; he wanted to trace his fingers between the freckles, and along the edges of all those tiny pink scars; he wanted to go around to the tops of her forearms, where soft pale hair gleamed downy in the bright light, and feel the difference in texture there.

He wanted –

Aremu knew better; he knew better. He had no excuses for himself, other than how unexpectedly sweet she looked scrunching her small nose up in the midst of her face, and the curious look in her wide eyes.

Shit, Aremu thought, and then: shit.

“Uh, no, I’ve nowhere else to… be,” Aremu said. Shit, he thought again. There was nothing for it but to bear it, to wait it out; the feelings would fade, he thought, if he didn’t give in to them, if he kept his hand tightly clenched over them, and didn’t let his mind wander. He didn’t see what else he could do; she deserved better than to have him staring at the little movements of her arms. This was meant to be a safe place for her; she deserved better.

“I like talking with you,” Aremu added, instead. He thought of the conversation that had only just passed, and grimaced. No wonder she thought herself a poor conversationalist. “I’m think I’m more to blame for any, uh, inadequacies.” Shit.

“What’s odd?” Aremu asked, outright, rather than trying to guess at it. Aurelie’s desire to do the dishes, to have companionship? The repeated little wrinkling of her nose? His company? To him, only the last really seemed odd – although the nose wrinkling was, perhaps, a little amusing. His smile had faded somewhat, and he couldn’t quite manage to keep it in place. He shifted, still leaning against the counter; his arms uncrossed, and his hand and wrist tucked back into his pocket.

Aremu looked at her, doing his best not to frown; her hair was still mussed, and gleaming red in the light from the window. Shit, he thought, again, concretely, and not in the least helpfully.

[Aurelie Steerpike]

Hamis 18, 2720 - Midday | The Ibutatu Estate, Isla Dzum

Nowhere else to be, he said, and Aurelie was glad. She could of course stand and wash the dishes by herself; that was fine, too. But she would rather have his company than stand at the sink alone, though it was quick enough work. She rinsed off a cup and set it to the side. He had said it a little strangely, but it was a strange enough request. "Please stand here while I wash the dishes, a chore I insisted on doing even though this isn't my house."

"W-well. I won't keep you long, this, ah. Won't take too much time..." Aurelie suddenly remembered that he had called her easy to talk to, with a peculiar kind of clarity that made warmth creep up into her face. It struck her no less this time than it had earlier. She could hardly believe it.

Aremu grimaced and took responsibility for any poor turn of conversation, at which point Aurelie shook her head. There was something almost sweet about him saying so; he hadn't seen her speak with anyone else, of course, and couldn't know that she was like this all the time. They had, she realized, really only ever been alone together. Other than the brief moment she had lingered after showing him to the laboratory, all those months ago—a lifetime ago, and not so long at all. That was a strange kind of thought, and came with a strange kind of feeling.

"That is, ah, kind of you to say, er. I r-really don't think so. B-but," she added with a hopefulness that bordered on teasing, "perhaps we can take—equal responsibility. For any... inadequacies. Such as they are." There, that seemed fine. Two people were required for conversation, in any case. So perhaps that was the truth of it, after all. Even if Aurelie felt more like it was her, and her rather narrow experiences and ranges of topics of discussion. She hadn't any of the conversational grace she knew the other women in her family were gifted with, and wasn't entirely convinced this was the result of her upbringing.

Thinking on it, she couldn't quite keep herself from apologizing. There went the smile again; Aurelie was starting to think she should stop keeping track, or it would drive her to distraction. He hadn't started to frown, at least, and she took that as a positive sort of sign.

"Oh, just the—insisting on... doing the dishes. You would think I would have had my fill of it by now. I, er. Well. I suppose I don't know what to do with myself if I'm not being useful. She had continued with the washing as she talked, and now was rinsing the last one. She shook the water off of her hands and got to scratch her nose at last. "I am, ah, open to, er. Suggestion."

There was only the drying and putting away now, after all. She knew there were a great many things she could do to occupy her time in the next hour or so. More options than she'd ever really had; Aurelie had no way to choose one from the other. All of it blurred together, and thinking on deciding even so much as an hour felt vaguely overwhelming. It was embarrassing and more than a little pathetic, but it was true all the same.

"I'm sorry," she added again. Just for good measure.