[Closed, Mature] What Yesterdays Bring

[Aurelie Steerpike]

Hamis 22, 2720 - Afternoon | A Beach on the Ibutatu Estate, Isla Dzum

"Great" was much better than she was expecting, and she couldn't help but beam a little, shy and pleased all at once. She had tried her best, which was all she could do. To have succeeded at all had seemed an accomplishment out of her reach. The smile turned in her direction was more of a reward than the praise was.

The smile widened into a broad sort of grin while looked at her. She thought he was looking somewhere above her eyes, actually. To her head. Aremu reached his hand out, which confirmed that she had, of course, managed to get something in her hair. Some kind of sea detritus, she was sure, and it had found her. "A bit of—? Oh, uhm, yes please."

She held herself still while Aremu untangled whatever it was from the damp strands of her hair. She also tried very hard not to think too much about it, whatever her mind tried to insist about the action. Like reminding her that he did this just as carefully as he did everything else, with a gentle kind of attentiveness. The whatever it was—some seaweed, dropped to the surface of the water to float away—was worked out of her hair. And then seemingly without paying it too much mind, he tucked her hair behind that ear.

An ear that felt rather suddenly warm as his hand dropped away. The whole rest of her face felt warm, in fact, and she knew that she had to be blushing rather furiously. Just once in her life, Aurelie would like for her every ridiculous thought to not show immediately on her face for all to see. This one in particular would have been an excellent time for it. As if the color in her cheeks wasn't bad enough, she could feel her mouth twisting into an odd, flustered kind of smile.

What had that been? Nothing, probably. She really shouldn't read into it. Maybe, he just. Just. No, she had nothing, she had no idea why he'd done that. She did try for a moment rather valiantly to come up with a reasonable answer to the question, but there didn't seem to be any to find. "S-so it is, yes. Uhm. Please do, That would be, ah, helpful."

Watching him swim was, genuinely, quite helpful. Not only did Aurelie not know how, but she had little reason to ever have seen anybody else do it either. She thought the way the motions of the arms and the kicking and everything fit together was somewhat intuitive, but it was instructional to have the demonstration. It was also a relief, because while he was swimming Aurelie was free to try and corral her thoughts into some kind of order. After a short while she found she was watching less for the instructional benefit and more because she liked watching him move.

Some degree of control had returned to her by the time he walked back over to her, at least. She thought that her smile had returned to a normal one; she was smiling, still, because despite the inauspicious beginning and her own silly train of thought she was having a good time. The sun was warm overhead, the sky blue, the water clear—what was there to complain about, really?

"Okay. Ah. Hmm. Right then. Here we go." Aurelie looked out to the waves, drawing her eyebrows together into a small, uncertain frown. They weren't large waves, really. And, she reminded herself, Aremu was right here. She waded forward, not letting herself look back or think about making a further fool of herself in front of witnesses. This was almost as pressing on her mind as the potential for drowning.

For a while, it actually went unexpectedly well. Aurelie found herself oddly uncoordinated, but she thought—after a little bit, it wasn't so hard. Ungainly, and she didn't think she was doing it well, but she was managing. Nothing practice wouldn't cure, at least she hoped not. She didn't go out too far, but tried for a few laps back and forth. Swimming was something she liked, she decided. Aurelie hadn't been sure, having never done it before. Now she thought, yes; she was glad Aremu had offered, and glad she had tried.

The trouble, of course, came in the end. Aurelie turned to look back at the shore—she had drifted a little further than she'd meant to. As she began to head back, a wave swelled up that she hadn't been expecting. Her feet, out of instinct, tried to find the sand; when there was only water, she panicked. Only a little, but enough that she turned the wrong way and inhaled instead of holding her breath. Aurelie coughed, and she spluttered, and under she went.

Roll

Can Aura Swam Good:
1d6 = (2) = 2

(No. No she cannot.)

[Aremu Ediwo]

Afternoon, Hamis 22, 2720
A Beach on the Ibutatu Estate, Isla Dzum

Aurelie had frowned intently down at the waters, as if doing so would reveal some secret, either about them or her own capabilities. Aremu was sorry his words had tamed the bright smile that she had worn for this little while; he didn’t exactly dislike the look she had now, either. There was something charming about seeing her serious and intent, and he felt a strange rush of gratitude that she cared about swimming so.

She waded in deeper, the water swirling at her waist and lifting up the edges of her tunic, and then – without any hesitation – she began to swim.

It was strange and ungainly at first; Aremu watched, intently, as she began to learn how to put together the movements of her arms and legs, how to time the shifts and breathing. She swam back and forth around him, and he was glad the currents didn’t pull her too far to the side.

Almost, once, Aremu thought to tell her to stop; almost, once, he thought to warn her that it grew tiring, quickly, quicker than one expected, especially just at the beginning. But she seemed to warm into it as she went, and her strokes and the kicks of her legs were strong.

Until, abruptly, they weren’t.

Aremu had been watching her; he saw her small face turn towards him from a distance. A wave washed over her, and then there was a splash of water.

He didn’t hesitate; he didn’t think to hesitate. Let her be angry at him for overreacting, if it were so. Aremu dove into the water, and swam with fast, heavy strokes towards where he’d seen her, covering the distance in a fraction of what it had taken Aurelie. She was flailing; he saw her face come back up and saw her gasp in a watery breath, before another wave plunged her back down once more.

Aremu wrapped his arms around her, both of them, unthinking. He turned over, lying on his back, so Aurelie was on top of him, floating on her back as well. He kicked, with both his legs, pulling kicking his legs apart and bringing them together, relying on the strength of them to push them back together towards the shore.

“It’s all right,” Aremu said, his voice a bit rough, his arms holding Aurelie’s back against him still as she coughed and spluttered. “I’ve got you,” he kept going, his legs propelling them back towards the shore. “I’ve got you.”

He didn’t ask, this time, when they found the shallows; he didn’t quite let go of Aurelie, just shifted his arms and lifted her up, still cradled against his chest. It wasn’t the time to think about his right arm, to be strange or shy about it touching her; he couldn’t, just then, as he hadn’t in the water either.

He carried her out of the water, up the sandy beach to the gazebo; he lay her down on one of the chairs, helping her sit upright against the pillows, and briskly wrapped her in one, and then a second towel. His hand smoothed her hair from her face again, and he was frowning, looking at her.

“Are you all right?” Aremu asked, finally. His voice was raw and a bit aching; he lowered his hand down to the chair, sitting just on the edge of it, close enough to feel the warmth of her. “I should’ve warned you – it gets tiring, but you seemed to be doing so well, I… I didn’t want to interrupt. I’m sorry, Aurelie.”

[Aurelie Steerpike]

Hamis 22, 2720 - Afternoon | A Beach on the Ibutatu Estate, Isla Dzum

The moments between turning her head and taking a lungful of seawater and being pulled back out were a blur. Just water all around, colder than it had felt before, and then warm arms around her. It couldn't have been long; a part of her mind was oddly free to wonder at that. The rest was occupied with coughing and trying to replace water with the air it had expected to be in her lungs in the first place.

It is all right, she wanted to insist, but kept coughing instead. Everything smelled rather briny, and the back of her throat burned from the salt. It was all right, because Aremu was there, just as he'd said. It had only been a moment, and it would be fine. Briefly terrifying, but—not as much as it might have been. She thought she might have apologized, or tried to; her voice came out strangled and she wasn't sure she had succeeded forming words with it.

Aurelie thought once they were in shallower water he might let her go. She would be fine then, if shaken. She could stand, at least. She thought she could—although she wouldn't have said no to being able to hold on to Aremu's hand a little longer, if he would let her do so. And yet, instead of putting her down, or saying anything at all about it, Aremu shifted his arms instead and lifted her up. Aurelie couldn't find it in her to insist, despite knowing that she should. She turned her face inward instead, holding on.

She felt steadier, wrapped in two of the towels and sitting in a chair in the gazebo. Enough to let embarrassment creep up around her. Even that managed to be a remote concern, overtaken by the mix of guilt and pleasure as Aremu frowned at her, moving her hair out of her face. Mostly guilt, she thought, especially when he asked her if she was all right. She nodded; his voice sounded terrible. Aurelie plucked at the edge of one of the towels, drawing it closer around her body.

"It's not your fault," she said, shaking her head. She grimace; her voice didn't sound much better. "I should have known better. I know my own limits." There was a scratch to her voice, but a firmness in it, too. The last thing she wanted was for Aremu to take responsibility for her own mistake. This was hardly the first time she had done something that exhausted her, and Aurelie felt nothing but shame that she hadn't stopped when sense—when her own body, even—had told her to do so.

But, oh, of course she was incurably ridiculous. She should feel terrible for worrying him so, and she did. The problem was that it flustered her, too, and doubly so when Aremu said she had been doing well. "I'm sorry," she added, her face warm.

Idiot, idiot, idiot. As if determined to add to all of this, part of her mind insisted on pointing out to her that he had carried her all the way over here, like some sort of—of cheap story. She was discovering new depths to her incurable hopelessness every day, it seemed. "A-and, er, well, thank you. For—you know. Uhm." She looked down at his hand on the chair.

"I was having fun," she managed, meek and embarrassed. "So, uhm, thank you for that, too. You, er, you really think I was doing well?" She looked up again, and managed a hopeful kind of smile. Absurd, and yet there it was.

[Aremu Ediwo]

Late Afternoon, Hamis 22, 2720
A Beach on the Ibutatu Estate, Isla Dzum

Her voice was scratchy; likely the salt water, Aremu thought, frowning. He knew she had coughed some of it up, when he’d first grabbed her. They were lucky, he thought, if all she had swallowed had gone to her stomach, for all he knew from experience it burned unpleasantly. He hadn’t thought to bring water down for them; the mistake ached, and lingered, and he could do very little, other than to promise himself he would not forget again, and wish that that were enough.

It’s not your fault, Aurelie said, and Aremu grimaced, faintly. A lie, he thought; well-meaning, well-intended, but a lie all the same. He didn’t want to argue with her, either; some part of him, quietly, told him it wouldn’t mean to her what it would to him, but he couldn’t bring himself to it, all the same.

“You’ll know for next time,” he said, instead. He felt a pang for a moment – supposing she never wished to swim again – but looking at her, even wrapped up and soaking wet and gazing at him with her face flushed well, even with the scratchy quiver of her voice, he couldn’t quite imagine her daunted by this.

Thank you, she said, and he shook his head. I promise, Aremu wanted to say, but it seemed selfish. “I’m glad I could,” he said instead, quietly. More than anything, he thought, he wanted to reach up and brush her cheek again – to – he was, Aremu thought, bitterly, the most selfish ersehole ever to live. Aurelie had nearly drowned – that she was fine seemed irrelevant – and here he was, thinking with the basest part of himself, thoughts of which she likely had not the least notion.

“Very well,” Aremu said when she asked; he found something like a smile amidst the ache on his face. “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” before, he wanted to add. He found himself taking her hand, though all of him knew better. They were both of them damp – he was, in fact, still dripping wet, having not bothered to wrap himself in a towel – and her hand was soft in his, her fingers a little pruned from the salty water.

“We should get you something to drink, for your throat,” Aremu said, looking at her. He was still holding her hand; she hadn’t pulled away, he told himself, desperately, as if that might be enough. He stood, and wrapped the last of the towels around his waist. “Here, take these,” Aremu said, handing Aurelie the bundle of things she had brought. Then, because she wasn’t much at all to carry, he reached down and scooped her up, towels and all, and settled her against his chest.

It was easier to smile, somehow, with the soft warm bundle of her pressed close; she smelled like salt water and, nonetheless, inextricably Aurelie.

“I’ve done worse before,” Aremu said, ruefully, glancing down at her. He found a bit more of a grin, wanting to make her laugh – to cheer her up – and as he set back along the beach, with her curled a little bit against him, enough to make him feel he hadn’t done so awfully, after all. “Once I swallowed so much salt water that I was vomiting it out for hours. There wasn’t a gazebo then, but Rayowa had an enormous umbrella – I wonder if it’s up in the attic somewhere – and she would sit beneath it and watch us, along with one of the men who worked for her in Thul Ka. He was in charge of fishing us out if anything went wrong.”

Aremu shifted Aurelie in his arms, tucking her a little closer to his chest. He could feel her settled against him when he spoke. “We were awful, I’m afraid. We used to have competitions for whom could swim out further, or who could hold their breath longer. I generally won; Uzoji was never a sore loser about it. But I didn’t know my own limits,” perhaps you still don’t, he thought, ruefully, gazing down at her small, freckled face and her big, wide eyes, “and so I was often the one in need of rescue.”

“I liked it though, swimming; I still do,” Aremu said, quietly, climbing up to the embankment and starting up the road to the house. “It’s restful, in the water. The Tincta Basta is all its own; you can never master it, but you can make a peace with it, for a time, and find something like balance.”

[Aurelie Steerpike]

Hamis 22, 2720 - Late Afternoon | A Beach on the Ibutatu Estate, Isla Dzum

Next time was a pleasant thought. She had been a little afraid that she had made too much of a mess of it for a next time; she was relieved to find it not the case. Rationally, she thought the one to call it off would have to be her—should probably be her, all things considered. But she really had been enjoying herself, up until she decided to put seawater in her lungs instead of air. She didn't think she would be so brave as to, say, go swimming on her own for quite a while; she wouldn't have been anyway. Still, as long as Aremu—or someone else, she supposed, although she couldn't think of anyone at the moment—was there, she was happy to keep practicing.

She'd said she was having fun and she meant it. The return of her smile was an unexpected relief—Aurelie thought she wouldn't have been terribly surprised if he had frowned the rest of the day, at least. Possibly the rest of the week; she wasn't really sure. His hand finding hers was even more unexpected, and in no part a relief. Unfair, actually. Pleasant, of course, and she slightly tilted her hand to hold on better. The way the water was still dripping all off of his face and pulling his clothes was the unfair part more than the hand that clasped hers.

He hadn't, she realized suddenly, gotten a towel for himself quite yet. That made her smile a little too; she had been bundled up in two of them before she quite knew what was happening, and Aremu hadn't grabbed one at all. She couldn't have said why that touched her so; it was just sweet, she supposed.

"That does seem like a good idea," she said with another little grimace. The salt really was unpleasant. She was only glad she hadn't seemed to swallow too much. Aurelie wasn't sure that ocean water was horrible for you in small quantities, but it felt like one of those things that a person just shouldn't ingest on a regular basis.

Aremu's hand held hers until he stood and wrapped a towel around his waist. She took her things when he handed them to her—really, she ought to have left most of them back at the house. For a moment longer she sat with her back against the cushions on the chair. She was oddly comfortable, wrapped in the towels with the warmth of the air and everything else. She would get up soon, she just—

"Ah...!" This was, she thought dazedly, perhaps third or even fourth time he had lifted her so. She let out a squeak of surprise, not at all protest. She should have protested. She should have insisted she walk back up to the house. She could. There was no reason why she couldn't. She was tired from muscles moving in ways they didn't, usually, need to—still Aurelie was perfectly capable of walking back.

She said nothing. Just held on to the things she was carrying, smiling a little to herself. There was no harm in indulging herself just a little, was there? No. Surely not. She had almost drowned (maybe, perhaps; she was fine now). Aremu really must have thought her a great deal more exhausted than she was, to think she wouldn't make it back on her own power. Aurelie found herself curling inward as much as she thought she could get away with.

"Oh?" Aurelie looked up when Aremu started to speak, and he grinned down at her. Unfair, she thought again; how was she supposed to stop her heart from skipping a little, when he did that? Carrying her up the beach, no less? Aurelie could feel the way his muscles shifted as he moved and the solid, if damp, warmth of his chest and it just was terribly, horribly wretched, the way she couldn't keep her mind from wandering.

Aurelie tried to picture, those two small boys—the image she found was of the age they were in the spectragram. She smiled, thinking about it; they must have been a terror. It was easier to think of the two of them doing such now. The smile turned into a giggle. "And now look at you, doing the rescuing," she said, amused and more than a little-self conscious.

Aurelie wondered if he was going to put her down before they got to the house. Maybe she shouldn't have taken advantage of his concern so, but she thought she couldn't bring herself to ask to be set down a moment earlier than he was willing to keep carrying her. They were on the road back up to it now, and he showed no indication of intending to stop. Selfishly, she rather hoped he wouldn't. Not enough to feign a weakness that wasn't there, but it was terribly pleasant. Comfortable in many ways, and the ways in which it wasn't were nice too.

"Balance, hmm." That, she thought, was a very Aremu thing to say of it. She didn't disagree, and she liked the way he put it—which is what made it so like him. She settled herself without thinking about it, and the smile lingered on her face.

[Aremu Ediwo]

Late Afternoon, Hamis 22, 2720
A Beach on the Ibutatu Estate, Isla Dzum

If Aurelie was uncomfortable in his arms, she gave no sign of it. She had let out a little squeak when he scooped her up, but then had settled against him without a word in protest. As he walked, she eased a little further against his chest.

When she laughed, he thought he could feel it, somewhere. It ached, rather terribly. There was a constancy, an immediacy to all this which he found hard to bear; he thought that if he had time enough apart from her, that he could master himself and set aside the feelings which he should not have had. Just a few days, some part of him thought, and he could excise them.

Aurelie had leaned her head against his chest; he felt the warmth of it.

And what would she do then? He would have to leave her, in his selfishness, alone in a strange and unfamiliar place. Without him she couldn’t swim - she couldn’t get into the attic - she knew no one he hadn’t introduced her too. Ahura, he thought - Ahura could -

What kind of man was he, to ask Ahura to take on his responsibilities? He couldn’t.

Don’t trust me, Aremu wanted to say, looking down at the small, soft curl of a smile on her face; I don’t deserve it. There’s nothing in me to trust, Aurelie; it’s a gift you’re giving me, and I seem to betray it every time I look at you.

He climbed the last of the hill up to the house, and up the broad steps outside. “Can you get the door?” Aremu asked, adjusting them so she could reach; he couldn’t manage it one-handed without setting her down, he knew, shamefully. But Aurelie turned the handle, and he eased it open with his shoulder, and brought them both inside.

Aremu lay her down on the couch, a damp, towel-swaddled bundle, and smiled at her. For all his thoughts and recriminations, for all his guilt and shame, he still smiled. He wanted to tell himself it was selfless; he knew it would be a lie.

“I’ll bring you some water, and make some tea,” Aremu said.

He went to the kitchen and came back with a glass of water for her first, not wanting to make her wait.

He had started the water boiling too; he went and got the black Hessean tea she had liked, though they had tried some of the herbal blends too in the days since, and he thought her fond of those. Familiar, he thought, would be good.

It was strange, but - he didn’t really feel she needed his coddling. She was a very strong young woman; he didn’t really think her so impacted that she needed to be fussed over. And yet - he wanted to. He didn’t quite know what to make of that. She’s your friend, Aremu told himself; that’s all. He added a little ginger to the tea pot all the same, peeled and sliced, in case her stomach ached from the salt water.

Aremu came back out with a plate, two cups of tea and a little honey balanced on it, and a handful of the leftover spiced onion and greens fritters that Ahura had made the day before, warmed briefly as the stove heated up. “I thought some honey might help your throat,” he said, smiling at Aurelie. He set the plate down, and set himself on one of the light wood chairs.

The cushions, he knew, were easy to wash, dry and clean when dampened with seawater; it was hot and sunny enough in the room on a general basis that he wasn’t worried overly about it.

“How are you feeling?” Aremu asked. He thought he should have frowned, but Aurelie’s hair was a slowly drying mess of pale red frizz about her face, and she was still cocooned in the towels, snuggled in them with bits of her damp clothing peeking out, and she looked remarkably peaceful, all told. He smiled; he couldn’t quite help it.

[Aurelie Steerpike]

Hamis 22, 2720 - Late Afternoon | The Ibutatu Estate, Isla Dzum

The door. It would be at the door that she would be set down, because how else would they get it open? That would have been acceptable; it was an indulgence anyway. She felt in much better spirits than she probably should, given the circumstances, but she couldn't seem to help it. Aremu angled them both just so and asked her to get the door, though, instead of freeing up his arms to do it himself. "Of course." Aurelie laughed; it turned to a cough towards the end, but the echoes of it stayed on her face. It was tremendously silly.

She spared a brief moment of thought for the poor couch, when he set her down. Wrapped up as she was, she was still quite damp. There was a trail of wet, sandy footprints from the door and drips here and there as well. That made her smile even more, somehow. She would clean them up later, she promised herself. Or at least help. Later, though. When she was try, and they had something to drink, and... Just, later.

"Thank you." Aurelie let her voice and her smile trail after Aremu as he disappeared into the kitchen, only to reappear almost immediately long enough to set a glass of water down in front of her. Aurelie didn't ask to help, which she felt rather guilty for not wanting to do. She took the glass in her hands and had a sip of water, pink coloring her cheeks and her ears.

There was something nice about the fussing, even if it wasn't necessary. Because it wasn't necessary, perhaps. Like she was worth fussing over anyway. Ana had fretted over her, the few times she had come to visit Aurelie at Brunnhold; it didn't feel the same. Ana was— It was a loving kind of thing to do from her sister, Aurelie knew that, but it always held the faintest edge of an adult indulging a child. Aurelie had tried to tell herself that she was comfortable with that, that it couldn't be helped, but now she knew that it had bothered her. The whole time, it had bothered her. Even Fionn had seemed to sometimes think her more fragile than she was in the care he showed her.

Aurelie didn't want to think about either of them, at the moment. This was simply different, for whatever reason. She wouldn't let it carry on too long, or let herself read something into it that wasn't there. Just—just a little bit, it was nice to pretend.

Even still, the plate with not just tea but honey and a few fritters from the day before made her smile wobble to something foolish. They were friends, she reminded herself sternly; one was kind to their friends. Probably. She thought so, anyway. Aurelie reached from her bundle of towels to take a cup of the tea into her hands, adding a liberal amount of the honey to it. It was the Hessean black tea she had liked, on her first day here. And, she thought as she brought it towards her and the steam drifted up from it, ginger too. She took a sip from it before answering; her throat really was worse for wear. Possibly because she kept insisting on saying things.

"I'm fine. Really. Nothing tea can't fix." Aurelie had expected a frown on Aremu's face, but he was looking at her and smiling, somehow. Perhaps she hadn't made everything too awful after all. She bit a corner of her lip and looked away, suddenly shy. Her hair was a terrible tangle around her; she knew if she let it dry completely like this it would be difficult to untangle, and stick all over the place. She fussed with it a little hopelessly.

"And perhaps a bath," she added, without thinking. Once it had left her mouth, the joke at her hair's expense seemed somehow—inappropriate. Not that, of course, the idea of her bathing was remarkable in any way. Just, she didn't really think it was the sort of thing one discussed too much. "Er, which is. I just mean, I must looked like some kind of—of half-drowned hingle. Uhm. Getting out of wet clothes, also, would—er. Into dry ones. I mean. Hmm."

That, she thought dazedly, had not been any better. At the very best, she must sound like the ill-adjusted creature she really was. They don't let us talk much for a reason, she wanted to joke, but it had seemed a more cruel thing to say lately. "They don't let me talk much for a reason" wasn't much better. Aurelie took a fritter and put it in her mouth before she thought to let any more words come out of it.

[Aremu Ediwo]

Late Afternoon, Hamis 22, 2720
The Ibutatu House, Isla Dzum

Fine, Aurelie said, really. She looked away, biting at her lip. They looked a bit chapped to him, although Aremu didn’t quite see how he could suggest some balm to her. He wondered if the salt water had irritated them; that, at least, he didn’t feel a pinch of guilt over. Aurelie was more than competent enough to handle chapped lips, and whatever discomfort they might have brought. She fussed at her hair with her fingers, mussing it more than helping.

Aremu glanced back at her face when she spoke of a bath. There was a brief pause between them, and then she rattled on, nervously, not quite looking at him.

Aremu felt a prickle of unease; he wasn’t sure why it should have upset her. It wasn’t as if he would be looking at her in the bath – that was a thought he was determined not to pursue, because it filled him up once more with the uncomfortable desires that he had, at least, managed to somewhat forestall, in the wake of her fright. He thought perhaps she felt strange at mentioning it; but, then, he'd never known Niccolette to be in the least shy about mentioning that she was off to have a bath. He thought the best thing to do was treat it lightly.

“I’m sure a bath will feel good,” Aremu said, smiling at her. “I usually at least rinse off after swimming; the salt clings to you a bit.”

The tub upstairs is big enough for two was a thing he absolutely couldn’t say; I can wash your hair for you was another. Hers was short, anyway; it was no nonsense in the way in which Aurelie was as well, and he liked it even more for that. He took one of the fritters as well, nibbling at it; he’d been sipping his own tea as well. He hoped the ginger wouldn’t irritate her throat; he’d been sparing, but he had wanted something for the upset stomach the salt water might have left behind.

You look charming, he knew better than to say. You look like yourself, Aurelie, and that’s – shit, Aremu thought. His mind was happy to conjure up a variety of appealing images – of pulling her into his lap, of finger combing her hair back into order, of Aurelie in the bath, which he was ashamed to think he could picture much better, after their time swimming.

They finished the tea and fritters; Aurelie went upstairs to start her bath, and Aremu carried their things into the kitchen, having promised not to wash them without her. He set them down in the sink, and made his own way upstairs, past the second floor landing where he could hear the bath running, and see the steam beginning to come out beneath the door.

He went up to the third floor them; he ran himself a cold bath, rather than a hot one, and climbed in, rinsing off and scrubbing at himself with soap. He yielded, then, and sank in to temptation for a little while, and the rush of guilt was swallowed by the easing of other, harder to bear aches.

Aremu came back down the stairs dressed, having rubbed the last of the water from his skin, and grinned at the sight of Aurelie busily cleaning up the sand and salt water they’d tracked on the floor.

“May I help?” Aremu asked, coming down the last flight of steps. Aurelie's short hair was clean again, curling neatly around her ears and gleaming a little; she was dressed once more, and looked much more herself, briskly tidying up the room where it had been mussed. He found he was smiling, once again, and it felt surprisingly good.

[Aurelie Steerpike]

Hamis 22, 2720 - Early Evening | The Ibutatu Estate, Isla Dzum

Either Aremu thought nothing of the tumble of awkwardness that came out of her mouth (surely he had adjusted to it by now) or just chose not to mention it. Either way, Aurelie was grateful. It wasn't as if she'd said anything that strange, but she felt very strange about it. Probably due to her absurd imagination, which was only active in rather specific and inconvenient circumstances. A reasonable person with their head set properly on their shoulders would think nothing of what she had said at all.

"I do feel a bit like a—a salt-crusted fish." The tension in her heart eased then, because it had been silly to begin with. She was glad for it, because she could finish the rest of the tea and fritters with no further incident.

After, she excused herself to go upstairs and take that bath. Not, of course, without extracting a promise that any washing-up wasn't to be done until they could both do it. It had almost become something of a ritual, her (hopefully polite) demanding to do the dishes. Aurelie felt a need to be useful, it was true, but as the time went on she found she was almost enjoying the asking as much as the doing.

A bath really did sound lovely, for all that she'd tripped all over her own tongue to speak of it. She had been first covered in attic dust, and now saltwater, sand, and other sea detritus. The whole day was enough to make her feel grubby on a bone-deep level. Washing up would do her good, she thought. She kept the towels wrapped around her and tried her best not to leave a trail of sand and water on her way up the stairs. In that way, her being carried all the way back was truly fortunate. She was much less sandy than she might have been.

Unfortunately, the bathroom also had a mirror. She was truly in a state—her finger-combing had done her very little good, and her hair was a wild halo around her head. And, she realized as she unwrapped herself from the towel over her shoulders, she had picked a truly unfortunate color to wear. She hadn't even considered it. That was—she was— Bells and chimes. She couldn't decide if she was more grateful or embarrassed that Aremu had said nothing the entire afternoon, even though the more damp parts of her tunic seemed to more or less not exist.

Neither, she decided, were very productive. She wouldn't—she wouldn't do that again. Her entire face and neck were red with the thought of it. She felt something else too, something more sour on the back of her tongue. It was fortunate, she supposed, that it didn't really matter what she looked like generally speaking. Aurelie resolved not to think of it any longer. When the bath filled, she sank into it with a groan, letting the water swallow her up.

When she came back down the stairs, scrubbed clean and in clean, dry clothing, Aremu was nowhere to be seen. She looked critically at path they had made from the door to the couch. For lack of anyone to tell her not to, she began to attack it immediately. She hadn't made it too far before Aremu came down the stairs; Aurelie looked up and smiled. Her face was only slightly warm; an ignorable degree of it.

"I suppose I can allow it." Really, she was glad for the help. She hadn't much experience with dealing with this particular kind of mess. And she was glad, too, for the company. There was something satisfying about doing it together, more than cleaning up by herself. She even allowed help with the dishes waiting in the sink.

By the time that was done and everything back in order, they were both hungry. There was a fish stew left over from the day before, fortunately. Aurelie had felt some small hesitation, almost wanting to make something else—but the whole day really had been rather exhausting, between the attic and the beach. Warming something already made sounded, for once, like the ideal solution. Stew was always better the next day in her experience; she was curious if that held true for this one as well. They had idari as well, which she had been fascinated to watch the making of. The flavor of the stew had deepened as she might have expected, and she was happy to soak it all up with the rather more mild ricecake.

All told, it was as satisfying a meal as she had ever had; there was something about exhaustion that added something to the experience of eating. A good kind of exhaustion, mostly. The kind where she knew she would feel more of it the next day, and less over time as her body grew accustomed to the activity. The tension she had felt, and the embarrassment too, had faded into an easy kind of comfort. She smiled through the whole of it, and couldn't find it in her to be the least bit sorry about any part of the day.

[Aremu Ediwo]

Early Evening, Hamis 22, 2720
The Ibutatu House, Isla Dzum

Aremu ate, hungrily, deeply grateful that Ahura had made extra fish stew and idari and left them in the ice chest. He mopped up what he could with the idari, chunks of white fish and vegetables and herbs stirring around the thick, coconut-sweet broth, and ate the rest with a spoon. Between the two of them, they ate every last bite of it, and Aremu half thought of adding water back to the pot and drinking what bits remained.

They had swept and washed up all the sand; Aremu was well familiar with it by now, and showed Aurelie the trick of it. They dealt with the cushions on the couch too, and all the towels, beating and hanging everything out; so long as it didn’t rain, Aremu had said, ruefully, it would be dry by noon the next day.

There was an easy rhythm to the washing up, by now. Aurelie still asked every time – it was somewhere between asking and demanding, in truth. Aremu made her wait, this time, just a little, as if thinking about it, before grinning a sudden, bright, boyish grin, and acquiescing. The flush of color on her face made him chuckle, a soft noise that he thought surprised him as much as her.

“It’s a good clear night,” Aremu said, drying the last of the plates. He smiled at Aurelie, and there was a part of him which thought to hesitate, which warned him that he hadn’t, quite, thought this through. He didn’t listen to it, or else he couldn’t; he didn’t know. They’d looked at the stars on the deck of the Tsuqeqachye’ki; surely it wasn’t any different. “There’s a little light still at the horizon, but in a little while I thought I might go watch the stars, if you’d like to join me.”

He didn’t think of saying that after the day they’d had he felt he needed their light; he didn’t have one of his own to find. She was smiling at him, and he felt a creeping wash of shame on the back of his neck.

“I thought we could make some cookies in the mean time,” Aremu said, the we soft and a little hopeful, looking at her. “There’s some chocolate in the pantry – maybe chocolate chip coconut? You can start to get a feel for the stove.” The offer trailed off into a frown, Aremu shifting, and looking back at her. “If you want to, that is,” he said, quietly. He didn’t want to overstep, or to push; he felt even more achingly conscious of it than usual, just now.

I can make them myself, he wanted to say, suddenly; I didn’t mean to put any pressure on you. I just – I thought you might like – he was, Aremu knew, a fool, and it was a bitter taste to swallow, especially while looking at her.