[Mature] Rest Like You Belong Here

[Aremu Ediwo]

Lunch time, 29 Hamis, 2720
The Ibutatu House, Isla Dzum

Aurelie was still sprawled half-against him, her hands on his cheeks. Her cheeks were red, and if she minded his thumb stroking slowly against her hip, she had given no sign of it. She was smiling; throughout it all, Aremu thought, she was smiling.

He didn’t mind, he thought; he understood then that he really didn’t. If she got up and left him to sleep – if what she wanted most in the world in this moment was for him to rest – he’d be glad of that too. Dreams were fragile things; they were easily shattered, and couldn’t be recaptured once they’d gone. They were bubbles, thin and translucent, which drifted up into the world and popped in their own time, and could be only remembered, and never again seen.

Perhaps that was the moment when Aremu knew it was not a dream; perhaps it had been earlier, that morning when he’d woken with her still in his arms, and it was only that it had taken a long time for the knowing to filter though him. This wasn’t it, Aremu thought to himself, clearly and easily. They had time; they had desire, between them, however comfortable or uncomfortable Aurelie was with it, whatever she knew or experienced or did not know or had not experienced.

It wasn’t a dream; it was much better than that.

She shifted forward into his lap; Aremu half-stifled a low noise that seemed to come from the deepest parts of himself, a low sort of groan that echoed through him despite his best efforts. Aurelie kissed him, sweetly; Aremu held on to her hip, holding as still as he’d promised, kissing her back. She kissed him deeper.

What are you searching for? Aremu wanted to ask her as her lips found his again. He didn’t know if she knew; he found he didn’t want to press knowing on to her, not yet.

Aremu laughed again when Aurelie walked back her demand. He chased her just a little forward, kissing her again; his hand shifted from her hip, and stroked slowly along her spine once more, tracing the line of it from her shoulder blades down.

“Would you like me to take my shirt off?” Aremu asked, softly, another time when they came apart. Aurelie was still on his lap; his hand was soft on her shoulder blades, fingers and thumb exploring the shape of them. Face red, she managed to stutter out an agreement; Aremu shifted, his hand coming away from her, and reached back, pulling off his shirt one-handed. He dropped it onto the sheet, wearing now only the bandages she’d put on him the night before.

Carefully, Aremu took Aurelie’s hand in his; he lifted her small, callused palm to his lips with a kiss, and guided it to the planes of his chest. He smiled at her, encouragingly, his own hand reaching up to cup her cheek lightly, feeling the vibrant heat of her blush.

[Aurelie Steerpike]

Hamis 29, 2720 - Lunchtime | The Ibutatu House, Isla Dzum

She knew, or thought she knew, that she could have insisted he rest and that wouldn't have been the final word on the subject for every moment after this. There was time—finite, she reminded herself, but not immediately so—and what's more, there was no need to be... to be secretive, or to take each moment as if it would never happen again. So Aurelie was forced to admit that she just wasn't, in fact, as sensible a young woman as she liked to think.

There were worse things, she supposed. Aurelie couldn't say she was unhappy with the results of her own insensibility. Not the reaction she got shifting onto Aremu's lap, not the kissing, not the laughter either when she pulled away and admitted she wasn't a big fan of the not moving. No, there was no part of this she truly minded, after all. Even if she felt as if she might combust at any moment.

At least she wasn't so stupid to have said "no" when he asked if she wanted him to take his shirt off. She still hadn't said "yes", not so clearly—but her point had gotten across. She didn't know what made her more flustered—the shirtlessness, the kiss to her palm, or the smile that came with the implicit invitation to put her hands wherever she wanted. All of them combined was really... How, she wanted to know, was she supposed to stay sensible in the face of all of it together? That would have been a dreadfully unfair expectation.

Her hands moved without her much having to think about it. Or because she wasn't much thinking about it. Even if she couldn't quite bear to just look at him, looking at her, while she did so. Fingertips skimmed across every dip and plane, mapping them out. A very thorough exploration; she pressed her mouth to the place underneath the jaw where she could feel his pulse underneath it. She could quite easily have occupied quite a lot of time this way, with kissing and the drifting of her hands across Aremu's chest and back; she could have put her hands rather a lot of places.

It was the sound of life from downstairs that reminded her that it was, actually, the middle of the day. Voices and footsteps and shuffling around. Somehow, she had entirely forgotten the hour. How completely absurd; Aurelie paused, almost laughing at herself. "I came up here to bring you lunch and see how you were doing." She smiled, not moving yet, but she was a little embarrassed by how easily she had gotten distracted.

"You're very—hmm. But I should, er, I should probably go back downstairs. And eat lunch myself, actually." She hadn't meant to be up here this long. Still, still, she didn't move. Not just yet. She would, but... but in a moment. Just one more moment.

[Aremu Ediwo]

Early Afternoon, 29 Hamis, 2720
The Ibutatu House, Isla Dzum

Aremu’s hand was tight in the back of Aurelie’s top as she kissed the place at the edge of his jaw, her fingers splayed out over his chest, exploring, as intent and curious as all the rest of her was. Another noise of appreciation escaped him, a low hum in his throat as he shivered against her. He had the presence of mind to wonder at the near-jealousy he’d felt at the attention she paid towards her cooking, and to decide it entirely warranted.

She stopped, rather abruptly, looking up at him.

Aremu grinned back down at her, taking a deep, steadying breath. He let go of where he’d grabbed hold of the fabric of her top, smoothing it against her back, gently. “I’m doing quite well,” Aremu said, with a cheerfulness which accorded quite well with recent activities, and relatively little with the bandage on his head and chest. He couldn’t mind them, just now; he couldn’t mind them in the least. He’d have done worse to himself for less – he thought, a little regretfully, that he probably had.

It had just been – nice, Aremu thought, verging on regretful, to turn himself over into her explorations, and think of nothing else. For all that he had every hope of Aurelie kissing him again later – for all that he was grateful and appreciative of her enthusiasm, and more than a little enthusiastic himself – he was sorry for the moment to end. The slow, steady exploration of each other was everything he could have asked her for, if he’d thought to ask, and more than he’d possibly hoped to expect. And she was enthusiastic; he didn’t want to flatter himself too much, and he wasn’t quite sure how to place it against what he knew of her, not quite sure what to make of it – what to make of her. She was, he thought, a very surprising sort of person, in the best possible way. Aremu was, at least, desperately grateful for it; it was much better, he thought, a little wry, not to be the only one so enthused.

“Of course,” Aremu said, softly, when Aurelie said she ought to go downstairs. He hadn’t known – he didn’t want to push her into anything she was uncomfortable with. He knew she did think a good deal of Ahura; he could understand her not wanting to get carried away with the other woman and Efere close by. He could understand, Aremu chastised himself, her not wanting to get carried away at all.

Aremu took another deep breath, steadying, calming, finding something like mastery of himself. He kissed Aurelie again, meaning it more as an ending than an invitation, for all he’d have been happy for her to begin again. The warmth of her against his thighs was thrumming through him still, and he felt more grateful it had happened than sorry it was over now.

“I wouldn’t want you to be hungry,” Aremu added. He kissed Aurelie again. Surely, he thought, one more kiss would be all right. Just one more didn’t mean he wasn’t respecting he wishes; just one more didn’t mean he wouldn’t let he go when she was ready to go.

[Aurelie Steerpike]

Hamis 29, 2720 - Lunchtime | The Ibutatu House, Isla Dzum

Aremu really did sound cheerful as he declared himself doing "well", grinning down at her. That was different than "fine", too; Aurelie was relieved to hear so straightforward an assessment. The smile bloomed all across her face, bright and wide. Whatever cares she had set aside in pursuit of other avenues of thought, there really had been quite a lot of them. "Good. I'm, uhm, glad to hear that."

The grin really did look well on him. Aurelie had thought so many times before, over the last week. She couldn't have imagined it, sitting on the bench together in Dentis. She couldn't have imagined any of this then. Nor through all of the letters, not even the last one. All of her wildest imaginings of a life beyond the one she had could not have brought her here, to this. The moment, the house, the any of it. A nice moment, she thought, that only happened because of so many terrible ones.

"Nice" was perhaps a strange word to use, but she thought it was. She had liked it, anyway; she liked it still. Having one's efforts appreciated was always rewarding. Especially when one was generally unsure of the potential effectiveness of said efforts. So a strange word, perhaps, but the one she was sticking with.

All of that was such a silly line of thought. Aurelie worried that some of it had spilled out onto her face. She knew some of it had, softening the corners of her mouth. More reason for her to go downstairs again, before she did or said anything to encourage herself. On top of the rather strong feeling of impropriety in letting herself get carried away at this hour, with Ahura and Efere so nearby. She had been, she knew, really very close to getting carried away.

Closer still when Aremu kissed her again, no matter that she'd just decided to go. Not a kiss that held her there, if she didn't want it to be, and he pulled away soon enough. That depends on the kind of hunger, she thought, and felt silly for it immediately. She just smiled instead, and happily returned the kiss right after that.

No, no; she needed to be firm with herself. Sensible. She was getting up. She really did need to eat, after all. Aurelie sat up straight, looking at that wonderful face again for a moment. A moment more. She was dawdling; Aurelie eased away, climbing off of him and the bed both. On a whim, she leaned forward again and kissed him lightly on one sharp cheekbone. Somehow, that flustered her as much as all the rest.

"I am leaving this room," she declared, as much to herself as to Aremu. "But, ah, I'm leaving the food here. I hope, since you are doing so well, you'll eat something...?" Something other than the egg wine, which wasn't food, not really. There was at least egg in it, she thought uneasily, but also sherry. It was restorative, but less than nutritional.

"But I'll be back up later. Er, well, of course I will, I suppose this is—uhm. My. Bed. B-but I meant... to check on you again. And, er. Dishes and. Yes." She added that as an afterthought as she made her way to the door. The saying of it rather stumbled as it left her mouth. Still the smile was on her lips, and all the rest of her too. She lingered in the doorway a moment longer, then finally walked out and closed it behind her.

Aurelie stood a moment in the hallway, collecting herself. Gracious and Merciful Lady, did she need the moment. But she also needed to eat, and to do other things as well. The funny little smile on her face would have to stay; she didn't think she could do anything about it.

[Aremu Ediwo]

Afternoon, 29 Hamis, 2720
The Ibutatu House, Isla Dzum

Aurelie did pull away, in the end, as he had known she would. She couldn’t stay there the whole day, Aremu thought, although he liked the idea more than he wanted to admit.

She leaned in and kissed his cheekbone, a little flutter of her lips against it. It shouldn’t, Aremu thought, have been different; she had kissed him so many times. He felt his smile soften anyway, looking at her. Her cheeks were still flushed pink, through not the deep red of her earlier blush.

Aremu glanced at the forgotten food. He didn’t, he was pleased to realize, feel as nauseous as he had earlier. He wasn’t exactly sure he was hungry, but he did think he could eat something, at least.

Stay here, Aurelie said, or nearly said. Aremu smiled a little at her.

“I’ll look forward to it,” he said, quietly, when she said that she’d be back. She went outside; there was a long moment of quiet, and then the soft sound of her footsteps once more.

Aremu reached for his shirt, and then left it off; he generally didn’t sleep with anything on, and it had rubbed oddly against the bandages. He touched his cheek for a moment, two fingers resting lightly against the corner of his cheekbone.

Then, shaking his head very slightly and with a small grunt at the headache, he reached for the tray. The broth was cool by now, with fat gleaming on the surface and the smell of vegetables and herbs. He picked up the spoon, and took a few careful sips. Once he was reassured his stomach wouldn’t turn, Aremu kept at it, managing slowly most of the bowl and half of the idari before he set the tray aside once more.

By then, Aremu had himself under control, the longing ache for Aurelie tamed; like, he thought, smoldering coals instead of open flame, before he grimaced at his own absurdity.

He found he was tired; perhaps he always had been, and there had just been too much to do. He lay down once more in the bed, resting his cheek into the pillow, and closed his eyes.

He didn’t sleep, not at first, and not for a little while. It was a mix of things he thought about and couldn’t banish, fear and guilt and shame and desire. He tried to picture the stars against the backs of his eyelids, and he couldn’t see them for the brightness of the day. Sometimes it was the throbbing ache in his head which kept him awake; it seemed to worsen when he shifted, and would only slowly settle down once more.

When he did sleep, at first, it was in short, uneasy batches. He woke tense and wrapped in the blankets, damp with sweat; he stumbled to the bathroom, and cupped his hand beneath the faucet, bending forward and rinsing his face off, slowly, pressing his damp palm to the back of his neck.

In Aurelie’s room, he drew the curtains more tightly, and sat on the edge of the bed, looking down at the hand and wrist in his lap. He closed his eyes once more, for all he knew it didn’t make a difference, and that there could be no looking away from himself.

In time he lay down again; he didn’t know if he slept, but he felt groggy and strange by the time the door opened once more, and Doctor Adhiti entered.

“Well, ada’xa,” the imbala said, raising white eyebrows beneath the lines in his forehead. “What have you done to yourself this time?”

[Aurelie Steerpike]

Hamis 29, 2720 - Afternoon | The Ibutatu House, Isla Dzum

True to her word, Aurelie had come back up to the room to collect the dishes. She had knocked again, softly. Loud enough to be heard, she hoped, if he were awake. He shouldn't be awake, but she wasn't sure. There was no answer, or any sounds of movement; Aurelie eased herself in, quiet as she could. Just to collect the dishes, look in on him a little—that was all.

Aurelie left the door slightly ajar behind her, stepping softly across the floor. She made very little sound; half a lifetime of being a pale blue shadow in Brunnhold was useful for some things, at least. And that had been in shoes; she was barefoot now, which felt a strange sort of indulgence. Like she really lived here, for however long she was allowed to pretend that was so.

Aremu was sleeping when she walked over, but not well. Or with a shirt on, Aurelie noticed; she grimaced at herself for doing so. He'd had one on the night before; Aurelie wondered, suddenly, if that had been for her sake, and she smiled, crooked and soft.

It turned to a frown rather quickly. Aremu might have been asleep, but it didn't seem the restful sort. Nightmares, he'd said—if they'd troubled him the night before, she didn't remember, not so clearly. They troubled him now, or so she thought. It could have been something else that left him tense and tangled in the sheets, a thin sheen of sweat on his skin. Aurelie reached her hand halfway to him before she realized what she was doing and pulled it back. Waking him may be no better, she thought uneasily.

At least he'd eaten something. Not all of it, but she was relieved to see he'd had most of the broth and half of the idari. She would have been even more worried if she'd come up and he'd still not managed more than the egg wine. The doctor had been sent for, Aurelie remembered, but still... She gathered up the dishes, pausing for just one moment more. Then she left the room, just as quietly as she came.

Aurelie tried not to mark the time, only to fill it. Mostly, she was successful. She failed only once, some hours later. From where she sat, trying to read the history book again, Aurelie heard the sound of footsteps creaking across the floorboards. She looked up and frowned. They didn't go too far down the hall; certainly not back up the stairs to the attic, and he didn't come down either. There was the sound of a bit more movement, and then it stopped.

She waited, listening; it didn't start again. Satisfied enough for the time being, Aurelie went back to her book. It helped, she thought sourly, that it took all of her concentration to read it—there was very little left over to come up with new reasons to worry.

She was still reading when Doctor Adhiti arrived. Aurelie told him a little of what had happened, and managed to stutter that no, Aremu had not been left alone really at all. Monitoring his condition, she'd said. Bells and chimes, at least she thought she had. She managed to make something of an idiot of herself in front of Ahura and the doctor both before he went upstairs.

She knew she should stay down here; she would do no good up there. Dr. Adhiti could talk to Aremu himself, and there was nothing she would possibly be needed for. A few minutes later, and she was walking quietly up the stairs, hovering anxiously outside in the hall. Not eavesdropping—she wasn't! Just. Waiting. In case she... Aurelie didn't know in case of what, but she couldn't really seem to help herself.

[Aremu Ediwo]

Evening, 29 Hamis, 2720
The Ibutatu House, Isla Dzum

Aremu held, sitting still, as Dr. Adhiti examined him. The other imbala listened to his breathing and the beating of his heart, took off the bandages to examine the wound on his head and his back, peered deep into his eyes, holding back his eyelids with careful fingers.

“... refrain from over-stimulation of the mind,” Dr. Adhiti was saying, solemnly, “in order to promote efficacious healing.”

Aremu made a faint noise which he hoped would be taken for agreement.

“Rest, as well,” the doctor went on, “and as much sleep as possible. Nightmares and other disturbed dreams are common after such. I have a sleeping draught which I will leave; take no more than one dose per day.”

Aremu inclined his head, closing his eyes for a moment. “And the headache?” He asked, quietly.

Dr. Adhiti tsked lightly. “The headache is an important message from your body; it tells you that your brain is still disturbed. It must be allowed to resolve naturally on its own; only once you are no longer suffering it is it safe for you to resume your normal routine.”

Aremu felt the doctor’s fingers prodding the wounds again, carefully. He looked forward, silent, hand and wrist in his lap.

“They are healing well,” Dr. Adhiti said. “Perhaps this wound in your scalp would have been better for stitches, but it is said also that salt water is very good for healing; this may have saved you. You must keep both wounds covered; I will give Ahura a recipe for a poultice. This evening, you must take a cold bath and wash the wounds clean, then cover them again while you sleep.”

Aremu inclined his head, lightly.

The doctor wrapped bandages around him once more; Aremu held still through that and the rest of his treatments, still and calm as the syringe pressed into the muscle of his upper arm. He took the vial from the doctor, and drank it without complaint or argument. He eased back against the headboard only as the doctor left, the door closing behind him.

He heard the doctor laugh in the hallway. “Nothing to fear, Miss Aurelie,” he said, switching seamlessly to Estuan. “You have seen him through the worst of the danger. Now it is most important that he rest; he will sleep today - I have given him a draught - with a poultice for his back and head, and then must take a cool bath tonight. A few days of rest, and he will be himself once more.”

Aremu didn’t know what to think of her waiting; he found it easy to picture, after all, her pacing the hallway outside, her small face set in a frown, her hands twining together. Don’t, he wanted to tell her, just then; don’t, not for me - it isn’t worth it.

His eyes were heavy and aching; he rubbed at them with his hand. He shifted, turning over to lie on his stomach - Ahura would need to dress his back, Aremu remembered thinking. His head swam, even though he was still; the room seemed to spin around him. He closed his eyes against the light and heat, and let the darkness take over.

When Aremu opened his eyes again it was half-dark. He grunted, shifting his cheek against the pillow; there was a sticky feeling at his head and his back, and an awful cottony dryness to his mouth. The poultice, he remembered, strange and uncertain. It was dark, or nearly; he thought for a moment he was alone, or would be, in the house.

Then he remembered.

Aremu eased himself up, his head pounding. He came off the bed on shaky legs, taking a few slow steps, and then more confident ones towards the door. He went out into the hallway, and over towards the edge of the stairs.

“Aurelie?” Aremu called. He held onto the bannister, frowning a little and looking down it. Please thrummed through him, and he ached with the shame of it. He wondered if she could hear it in the hoarse ache of his voice; he didn’t know whether he wanted her to or not.

[Aurelie Steerpike]

Hamis 29, 2720 - Evening | The Ibutatu House, Isla Dzum

The worst of it had passed; Aurelie held on to that, relieved to hear it was so. Unspeakably relieved—part of her had been worried that they had missed something, and it was worse than it seemed. Embarrassed as she was to be found hovering anxiously outside the door, her relief outweighed it tenfold. She untwisted her fingers from each other.

Still, she hovered too when the doctor gave Ahura the instructions for the poultice and the dressing of the wounds on Aremu's head and back. Just in case, she thought grimly, there was need for such things again. Aurelie had the distinct feeling that this was not an isolated incident. Her own uselessness had bothered her all day and all the night before; if she had known more, if she had more experience... Maybe she would never need to know again, maybe even if she did the knowledge would be gone from her by the time she wanted it, but she tried to commit it all to memory anyway.

Whatever was in the sleeping draught certainly worked well enough; Aremu had slept through the application of the poultice, and long after that. Good. That, too, was a relief. There was nothing to be done now, she reminded herself fiercely, except give it time. And rest.

Dinner, she thought, could wait until he woke again. He would wake again, and would at least need to take that bath. She could make something then—there was no sense in making anything in advance of Aremu's waking up. She wasn't sure, after all, how long he would sleep. A cold dinner that was not intended to be so never improved anything for anybody.

This left her with very little to do but wait herself. Ahura and Efere left as afternoon turned to evening, and so too did everyone else. Quiet settled over the house. Everything was in order, dishes all done. Stitchwork then, Aurelie supposed. Until Aremu woke up. It was hard to concentrate on it at first, but as the light outside dimmed, she found the rhythm of it. The steady drag of needle and thread through fabric made at least some small sound, and helped fill the silence.

She paused when she heard the creaking from upstairs. As uncomfortable as all that quiet made her, at least she could hear that well enough. She was already setting it down when he called her name from the stairs. "I'm here," she called back, getting up. She frowned at the cast of the sound his voice, but by the time she got to the bottom of the stairs she was smiling again. Only a little trace of worry marred the edges of it.

"Do you need—want—anything?" She came up the stairs; it didn't seem the best idea to keep making him shout down them. "How are you feeling...? I wasn't sure when you'd wake up."

[Aremu Ediwo]

Evening, 29 Hamis, 2720
The Ibutatu House, Isla Dzum

It wasn’t more than a moment before she called back. Aremu closed his eyes for a moment, groggy and disoriented. He didn’t like the sleeping draughts; he knew he needed rest, and he had taken it all the same, but this wasn’t the first time they had left him strangely dazed, his mouth oddly fuzzy, more than a little uncertain where he was and what was happening.

Aremu was rubbing his face with his hand when he heard Aurelie on the stairs. She was smiling at him, and he smiled too, though he didn’t know how he looked; his face felt a little strange, and he had the odd feeling the pillow had left creases in it, as if sleep were still clinging to him.

He didn’t think he had dreamt; he didn’t know. He felt as if he had closed his eyes when it was light out and opened them now, and the heaviness of sleep was sunk all through him still, something in him clinging to it. If he had dreamt, he didn’t remember it; he didn’t think he had, for all that he tried never to remember them.

Aurelie was asking, then, if he needed anything - if he wanted anything -

“No, I...” why had he called her? He didn’t need or want anything just then he wasn’t capable of getting himself; there was no need for her to fetch him water when the bathroom was right there. Idiot, he thought, idiot; he had probably frightened her or disturbed her, when there was no need for it at all. She looked worried, he thought, pinched at the edges of her eyes, something a little tight in the wet of her mouth.

“I just wanted to see you,” Aremu said, very uncertainly. I just wanted to know you were here, at least, hadn’t quite come out; he didn’t know whether it should have been worse. Standing seemed a bit harder than it should have been; he sat down with his back against the wall, taking a deep breath. His shoulder itched, and he rubbed it with his hand, fiddling with the edges of the bandage, then letting go.

He looked back at Aurelie again. “I’m just groggy, I think,” he rubbed his face again, pressing firmly against his eyelids with his finger and his thumb. “It leaves me that way, the, um, sleep medicine,” he rubbed his face again, looking at her. “I feel all right otherwise; my head’s not so bad. I’m - I’m glad you’re here,” he looked down at the boards of the flooring, looking at the gleam of them, the little bits of sand still caught between them, the toughness of the old wood.

After a moment, Aremu glanced back up at Aurelie and tried what he hoped was a smile, his gaze searching her face a little.

[Aurelie Steerpike]

Hamis 29, 2720 - Evening | The Ibutatu House, Isla Dzum

Aremu didn't look particularly alert. Medicine could have that effect, she knew. He smiled when she did, but it was a strange sort of look, bogged down by drowsiness. The marks that crossed his cheek from the pillow didn't help the impresson in the least. It didn't add to her concern, looking at him. The worry was formless, with no target either. What she did feel, looking at him and his sleepy smile, she thought was best not to examine too closely.

"Oh." That surprised a faint wash of pink across her face. Aurelie tried to imagine how she'd feel, waking up with it suddenly evening and the house all filled with quiet. She could barely handle it now, and she was well. Of course he wanted to know that there was someone else around; she didn't flatter herself to think it mattered if it was her, specifically. But she was the one who was here, and some stupid part of her fluttered anyway.

Now, the sitting, as if standing was too much effort, that did worry her a little. Only a little, though. She'd been given something to help her sleep only once, and she remembered the experience as being distinctly unpleasant. She wasn't eager to repeat it. Aurelie came to sit next to him, somewhat awkwardly on her knees. It just felt odd standing above him, looking down.

"I'm glad to hear that," she said, voice warm. "Er, that you're feeling a bit better, other than the grogginess. I..." She trailed off, chewing on her lip. Looking at his face, at that attempt at a smile he gave her when he looked up from the floor, she wasn't sure what to say.

"I'm, ah, glad I'm here too. Er." She dropped her eyes, settling for the truth. She was glad, generally speaking and also in this moment. It sounded like too much once she'd said it, but there was no taking it back. "I mean, ah. O-of course I'm here. I was just—waiting for you to take up. Uhm. Well, doing some embroidery, too, not just... Are you hungry at all? I can make something. Do you want water? Or tea, or... Ah."

Bells and chimes. The last thing he needed was her flooding him with a series of inane questions. Questions just designed to make her feel useful and needed, not to help him at all. Aurelie broke off, and held out her hand sheepishly instead. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't... Truly, though, if you need anything... I just mean, you can rely on me," she continued, face turning a little pinker, "if you... I would like to... Anything at all."