[Closed, Mature] I will not ask you

[Aremu Ediwo]

Early Evening, Hamis 32, 2720
Western Port, Isla Dzum

I want you to be happy here, Aremu wanted to say, most of all, looking down at Aurelie in the circle of his arms, her small face smiling up at him. I know it’s not your place – it’s not mine either, Aurelie, though I don’t know if it seems that way to you. I’ve made it my own, as much as I could have.

It’s been nice, he wanted to say, too, having you here. Aremu wasn’t sure he’d realized, before Aurelie came, just how quiet things had been. In the year and some since Uzoji had died, he’d been alone, not just more nights than not, but nearly every night. Not alone in his bed, though that was true as well, but alone in the house.

For all, Aremu knew, he held himself apart, he’d missed having the opportunity not to do so.

It wasn’t only that; he didn’t think any presence would have done it. It was, he knew, with a sinking ache in the pit of his stomach, Aurelie: her determination, her thoughtfulness, her curiosity, even her strange little quirks.

“There are some other gardens I like,” Aremu said, aloud, over the deafening sounds of the thoughts on his head. “The orchids are my favorite, but there’s a larger one on the edge of the city away from the port with one of the island’s natural lagoons,” he smiled down at her. “There’s a nice restaurant there, though it’s known more for its views than its food.”

There’s a walkway, he might have said, along the edge of the port, which goes from a festival hall along the mangroves. The words were tied, tangled up in sharp memories from Yaris, the flash of a blade and a faint throbbing in his arm. Stabbed, Tsadha had said, wide-eyed in the carriage, and he couldn’t quite think what to make of how Aurelie had looked at him afterwards. She never had asked, in the end, the questions he’d offered to answer.

“… one of the old duri neighborhoods off the southern end of the port,” Aremu was saying, quietly, to fill the space. “There’s a historic temple, there; we don’t have much of a tradition of them here.”

Aurelie’s hand settled quietly on his cheek; her gaze was still tilted up towards him, her eyes wide.

Aremu smiled a little, his words trickling to a stop, looking down at her. He shifted his head, a little, catching the side of her hand with a kiss. The road was softer beneath the wheels now; if they weren’t out of Western Port yet, Aremu thought, then they were nearly so. He tilted his head down, and kissed Aurelie, closing the distance which had lingered between them all day.

It was a soft kiss, at first, almost chaste. He lingered in it, shifting her a little on his lap, well aware of the effect it had already had on him, and aware too that she must know it. Aremu smiled, his thumb stroking her upper arm lightly, breaking the kiss to look down at her once more. “May I kiss you again?” He asked, his voice a little too rough for the question to be taken for anything near as simple as it was.

[Aurelie Steerpike]

Hamis 32, 2720 - Evening | Western Port, Isla Dzum

The orchids were his favorite. Something about the knowledge pleased her. A combination of the pleasure from learning something new about Aremu Ediwo, and the thought that he'd taken her somewhere he did like after all. The restaurant, too; all of it warmed her right through.

"I, uhm, I don't think I've seen many lagoons. Er. Natural or... or otherwise." Aurelie offered, losing track of her thought somewhere towards the end. Views were good, she thought. This one was in particular. That was a "keep it to herself" sort of thought; she wasn't that stupid. Only enough to think it—not to say it.

Aremu was still talking, she realized with a note of despair. It wasn't that she wasn't interested—she was, very much so. She liked listening to Aremu talk a great deal. She liked the way he explained things, even if it was just telling her about the street they were on or the food they were eating. Even if it was something she didn't think she'd ever quite actually understand, like what the part they'd gone all the way to Laus Oma to get was actually for. Just now, though, she was hearing the shapes of words and not capturing much of their meaning. All of it was just filling the air between them; there was little enough of it to fill.

Her hand hadn't been meant to make him stop. She just liked having it there, to feel the muscles of his jaw work while he spoke, or smiled, or even frowned. It had been hardly a thought, bringing her hand up. An impulse that worked from her heart to her fingers without any thought to intervene. Perhaps she might have apologized for the interruption. Might have. She didn't; there was simply nowhere for her to have put it, the distance between them gone.

It was astonishing, even to her, how much better she felt almost immediately. And foolish; she knew better than to think it was anything but foolish to be so soothed. She knew, too, that it wasn't permanent. Later, she thought; later, when she was alone, then she—

But that was later. Now Aremu was looking down at her again with a smile on his face and something in his voice that drove most anything else far to the back of her mind. Her own smile was rendered crooked by the way her teeth caught a corner of her lip as she thought. Inappropriate, she thought again. The road underneath was already softer and less rattling than it had been.

"W-well," she began, the sound of it pitched a little strange, "that, uhm, rather depends. On how long, er, we're. Back here. Because I, ah... I am afraid I won't want to stop if you do."

[Aremu Ediwo]

Early Evening, Hamis 32, 2720
Heading away from Western Port, Isla Dzum

There was answer enough in Aurelie’s voice, and Aremu grinned. He hadn’t put so much space between them, not so much that he couldn’t feel the soft tickle of her breath on his lips, or the way she shifted against him when she began to answer.

“Half an hour,” Aremu murmured. “Maybe a bit longer,” his hand came up from her arm, cupping her cheek, his thumb stroking over the line of her cheekbone. With the light going, he might have said, Una will want to be careful with his moa.

Instead he leaned down and kissed Aurelie again, a little deeper. His hand stayed curled over her cheek a few minutes more, and then wandered down, slowly, searching, idly curious. “I think it’s enough time to start,” Aremu said, as evenly as he could manage, which he did not think was terribly even.

His lips trailed from the corner of her mouth, down, tracing the edge of her jaw and dipping beneath. He worked his way over every freckle he could see in the dim carriage light, and added a few more besides just in case, thinking he might have missed some in the low light.

“You’re beautiful,” Aremu whispered, softly, kissing the slope of her neck, half bent over her and pressing very solidly against her. He didn’t think he’d said it since the cave - he remembered, with mingled amusement and embarrassment, insisting to her how beautiful she was. He couldn’t think why he hadn’t said it again; he couldn’t think why he didn’t tell her every time he saw her, just then, though he knew he had his reasons.

Just then, at least, he thought he’d wanted to tell her all day: that she was beautiful, that he cared for her, and not the way he had said it earlier in the tea shop. He couldn’t find the words; he let his lips and hands do the talking, for a little while, in the hopes that enough of what he meant to say would get through.

Half an hour, Aremu thought, smiling. It wasn’t much time, but then he didn’t think - he hoped - that Aurelie might want to kiss him a little more when they got back to the house. In the meantime, with the carriage swaying softly beneath them, the road smooth under the wheels as they wound out of Western Port and towards the Ibutatu plantation, he fully intended to use each minute as best as he could.

What he wanted, Aremu knew, could come later; today was for her. He wasn’t sure, not quite, where the line was between showing her where she might go and pushing her past where she wished to stay. He meant to go slowly, in any case, and hope - trust - that she could tell him if she wanted to stop.

[Aurelie Steerpike]

Hamis 32, 2720 - Evening | Heading Away from Western Port, Isla Dzum

Aurelie laughed before she could stop herself, a breathless giggle. Time enough to start, he'd said; just to start, and then? Then they'd be back to the house, not in the back of a carriage. Aurelie knew, somewhere in the back of her mind, that there was also not so much time to wait, really. And that was what she should have said, no matter how it thrilled her to hear his voice so uneven as he said so.

"I think so too." What was the harm though, really? Her judgement was undoubtedly clouded, so perhaps she shouldn't listen to herself. It always seemed to be, she thought, when it came to moments like these. Aurelie considered, in her idle hours, that it may be cause for concern. She had never been quite sure, and in absence of any evidence on which she could base such a conclusion, she opted to just do as she pleased. Aremu didn't seem to mind, at least, and anyone else she supposed was rather irrelevant.

Of course it pleased her to kiss him just about anywhere—well, anywhere out of sight. There were limits, after all. Or a limit, anyway. Evidently just that one. Any further thought she might have given the matter she abandoned; it was hard to think of much with his lips on her jaw and moving lower, outside of this moment. She couldn't say she minded.

When Aremu spoke, she felt it more as a movement of his mouth and breath across her skin than she really understood what he said. And then it took a moment more after that, because it was so patently absurd. No, she thought dizzily, I'm not. He had said so before, in the cave—but not again since, and she had rather attributed it to head injury. It was so clearly untrue; Aurelie made some sort of noise, but couldn't bring herself to argue the point.

She wasn't—she knew she wasn't. She saw herself every day, after all. Her sister was beautiful, Niccolette was beautiful, Tsadha (and the thought still twisted something in her heart underneath it all) was beautiful. Aurelie thought Aremu was too, although she had never quite known if that was a word one should apply to men, even if it was true. Not her, though. Aurelie knew very well what she was, and what she wasn't too. She thought again of the story of the rabbit, of the skin horse—but that wasn't it, either. That was even more impossible.

It didn't matter. Not at this moment, and not in general. One didn't have to be beautiful to be useful, after all. Enough that Aremu should want to say so, however strange a thing it was to say. Her skin had been warm before; had been really since she came over to sit with him. The heat swept up over her neck and through her face before settling somewhere in the core of her. And affection too, tangled up in it all. Her voice couldn't be trusted to speak, or even her mind to think of what to say. The rest of her would have to do, twisting to press closer, her arms reaching up to catch hold of him.

Half an hour didn't seem like much time at all, suddenly. But there was more, later. She hoped so; she thought so. As much as she could get, before it ran out.

[Aremu Ediwo]

Early Evening, Hamis 32, 2720
In a Carriage from Western Port to the Ibutatu House, Isla Dzum

Aurelie didn’t speak, but she squirmed about on his lap, just a little; Aremu let out a low, hoarse groan as she pressed against him, his eyelashes fluttering as he pressed his lips to her neck once more. Her arms settled around him, and held tight.

He could feel her blushing; if he’d stopped and looked, Aremu thought, grinning in those rare few moments when his mouth was not better occupied, he thought he’d have been able to see it, even in the dim light of the carriage. It radiated off her, bathing him in its warmth, and he liked everything about it – about her – from her squirming to the quiet panting of her breath.

He shifted again and kissed her lips once more; she met him, needy and urgent, kissing him like a flame: bright, alive, shedding her warmth to him.

“I’d like to touch you,” Aremu whispered into the set of her lips. He kissed her again, and eased away, just a little, looking down at her with a smile. His hand had wandered back up, at some point, threaded itself through her hair; he let go of the soft strands, and trailed, slowly, back down her body, lingering a little, but focused all the same on a very particular destination.

Aremu looked at her, his eyes searching her face, trying to read her. He went on, his voice low and soft, his lips trailing over the line of her jaw and back to her lips. “There’s no rush,” he promised, quietly, feeling her arms tight around him, the trusting intertwining of their bodies. “Now or later, I’ll be grateful if you let me bring you pleasure,” his voice caught a little; his lips nipped softly at her ear, and he went on.

“Would you like me to do it now?” Aremu asked, softly. His hand was curled over her hip; he wandered, a little, down, tracing paths made unfamiliar only by her clothing. “Or later?”

He could have pushed; he could have edged his fingers beneath the traces of her clothing, and hinted at his meaning with them, carefully, or else tried to bring her to the edge, as best as he could without pressing further, and have asked then. He didn’t; he didn’t want it to be like that between them. He never wanted it to be like that between them. He knew it was a lot to ask, for something like equality, with the disparities they faced – hadn’t Tsadha, today, been proof enough of that?

All the same, he wanted it; he wanted it more than he wanted to touch her, more even than he wanted to pleasure her or wanted her to pleasure him. He didn’t want it – not here, not now – not unless she wanted it too, freely and unencumbered, or at least as close as the two of them could get.

His hand shifted away; his arm wrapped around her, and he pulled her closer as he waited for her answer, pressing his lips to her hair once more, tenderness welling in him almost unbearably, enough that he thought he might burst.

[Aurelie Steerpike]

Hamis 32, 2720 - Evening | In a Carriage from Western Port, Isla Dzum

This was a bit more than kissing. She had known when he asked that he'd meant it to be so. She could find no part of her that minded, except the parts of her that wanted more again still. It swept all through her like a brushfire, and didn't seem to pay any heed to current setting. It felt somewhat brazen, to even think about wanting more here—she wasn't sure she minded that, either.

"Ah," she managed, a breathy half of a sound. What an offer that was, looking down at her as he was with a smile on his face. She still had her arms twined around him, holding him close. It simply wasn't fair; how was she supposed to be sensible? The question of fairness came up quite a lot, she thought with only a trace of anything other than amusement at herself. One would think she would learn eventually, and yet she never seemed to. Aremu really had, she allowed herself to think, the most perfect mouth.

And he was using it for—really a variety of things that did rather threaten to overwhelm the part of her that wanted very badly to be sensible. It was a small part, so easy to overwhelm. But even if it had been bigger and louder, there wasn't much she could do to hold onto it with him going on, mouth on her jaw and her ear and—

"That is a dreadfully unfair question," she managed, although it was hard and came out much less steady than she might have wanted. Teasing though; there was a smile on her face and she hadn't moved away even a fraction of an inch. "I—uhm, well. W-want is—ah..."

Thinking was difficult at the moment. I only just worked myself up to holding your hand in public you know, she wanted to complain, a weak protest that would really be more for herself than for him. Reminding herself how ridiculous she was, to want to say "now" so badly when she couldn't... do something that should be more normal, acceptable. Not easily, anyway, not without feeling this crawling feeling on the back of her neck, like at any moment someone would come and...

Now, he'd said, or later. Aurelie smiled at that, too. She thought "neither" would also have been an acceptable, if not ideal, answer. Sometimes she did feel a little bit like she would almost prefer if he asked her fewer questions she was meant to answer in words, as anxious as that made her, more than anything else. But she couldn't truly wish for it. This, too, seemed so much in line with the rest of him that it was as endearing as it was anything else.

As if, she thought with a soft twist pressing against her ribcage, he needed to be any more endearing. As if she weren't already so often overwhelmed with affection she thought it a wonder she moved at all for the weight of it.

"L-later, I think," she sighed, more than a little regretful. "N-not, really, that I don't want—er, that it is... Not too much later, maybe." She grinned a little at herself, at both of them. They would surely survive the ride back. Possibly. Aurelie was less sure of herself, but she thought she would have to try.

[Aremu Ediwo]

Early Evening, Hamis 32, 2720
The Ibutatu House, Isla Dzum

Aremu chuckled, just a little, when Aurelie called it an unfair question. It rippled through the both of them, that sound, that feeling, with her still pressed against him, the two of them tangled together as they were. He laughed because of the teasing tone in her voice, because despite the complaint she didn’t move even an inch from him.

“Later,” Aremu promised, when she made her choice. He pressed his lips to her hair again, holding her in his arms, cradling her against him. “Not too much,” he agreed, grinning.

He went back to it, then; he held her close, his hand sliding down her back, now, and his lips trailing back over her ear. “Perhaps you’ll let me kiss you, too, later,” Aremu whispered, a little hopefully. He kissed her earlobe once more, trailing back down to her jaw.

It wasn’t too long before he was at her lips again, and they were kissing, Aremu holding her as tight as he had before, still letting his hand wander just a little over the outside of her clothing.

He could feel her heart pounding. With her pressed against him, he was aware of it, beating just as fast as his. He kissed her; he used every moment they had, not rushing towards any destination, but lingering in the here and now.

When the carriage came to a stop, Aremu pressed his lips to her neck and groaned, softly. “I hate to stop kissing you,” he whispered, easing away from her. She was still in his lap; he brought his hand up, teasing her hair into some kind of order, though he wasn’t sure he could do much for her slightly dazed look, other than hope the dark would cover it.

There was the shift of Una outside, coming off the roof of the carriage. Aremu set Aurelie gently aside, kissing her forehead, and opened the door from the inside.

“Lend me your arms with this box, Una?” Aremu asked in Mugrobi. The two men wrestled it together, leaving Aurelie space to climb out herself. Aremu had the books as well, and the bag of fabric too, moving swiftly to scoop it up.

Una and he carried the box to the porch, tucking it off to the side; Aremu paid the carriage driver, and well, and turned smiling to Aurelie as Una turned the carriage and drove off.

Inside, Aremu set the packages down on the nearest table. He turned to Aurelie, and smiled, reaching out to tuck her hair behind her ear, his fingertips lingering against her cheek, tracing along it lines that he had kissed already, and meant to kiss again. “I thought we might take a bath,” Aremu suggested, “together, if you like.”

He looked at her; he frowned, just a little, his hand easing away. “Or - if you’d rather some privacy,” Aremu said, quietly, with a sudden sharp awareness of how selfish he was being - they had spent the entire day together; perhaps she wanted some time apart. He tried to smile, instead, not wanting to seem disappointed.

[Aurelie Steerpike]

Hamis 32, 2720 - Evening | The Ibutatu House, Isla Dzum

It seemed like less than half an hour before they got back to the house, and like much longer. The time was spent pleasantly, however long it was; she regretted her "later" only a little bit. It really would have been—well. One might get used to thinking of such things in inappropriate times and places, when there was no such thing as an appropriate one. She had her doubts about how well such a line of logic would hold up under scrutiny, but it seemed as good an excuse to her as any.

"We're only going inside," she said, as if she weren't equally regretful. That came through in her voice, likely. She wasn't sure that his efforts had done much to put her into anything like a state of order, but she had liked it anyway. As she shifted off of his lap to let him leave first, she attempted to set herself a bit more to rights with her own hands. And not much more success; Aurelie couldn't quite decide if she was sorry. There was just the smallest trace of longing, perhaps, for the pocket on her uniform apron—it had really been rather useful, and large.

Aremu said something to Una in Mugrobi; distracted as she was trying to set the bright red of her hair into place, he did manage to get the books and fabric as well. She wanted to frown when she realized, but she smiled instead. On the whole, she felt much better than she had. Not "calm"—not by any stretch of the imagination—but on more solid ground. The day had been enjoyable, for the most part, but it had also made her tense, too-visible and uncertain. Growing pains, she thought; there wasn't much to be done for it.

Being close in that tangible way was part of it, but it wasn't all. There was a sinking feeling in her heart when she realized that part of what made her feel better was simply the sight of the house itself, rapidly becoming familiar. Not hers, not at all, but nowhere really had been in a very long time. Comfortable, she thought; the word she wanted was "comfortable". All of this was becoming comfortable to her, in a way she knew she shouldn't let it be.

For a moment she hung back, looking at the line of Aremu's shoulders only just visible in the dim evening light as the two men carried the box to the porch. None of it, she thought, was anything she could keep. To forget that, even for an instant, was asking to be hurt more than she thought she could bear. Hadn't she made that mistake enough times? Aurelie clutched at the bag in her hands with the thread and the embroidery hoop, and then followed along after.

The packages were set down on the nearest table, and Aurelie tried to set down heavier thoughts with them. They would need to be put away properly—a little part of her itched to do it now, unable to bear seeing things untidy—but she found it was easy to ignore that fact when Aremu turned to her smiling and reaching for her before they'd gotten much inside the door.

"Ah, w-well..." A smile bloomed across her face, even as an ugly little part of her wanted to say no. Shameful and twisted-up, reminding her of what she was. As if he didn't already know. As if there was anything she could do to keep him from finding out, but still... It all was still new and fragile; she didn't know what to do with it.

Besides, it was only a little part, and she didn't like it. She refused to listen to it right now. Aremu was frowning, already offering to let her say no—something pinched in her at that, but she thought back to saying that she wanted to do something he liked, next time. Aurelie caught his hand before it could withdraw entirely. If she pretended that she thought it wasn't her, that it was something else—could she make it true? She turned her face to press a kiss to his palm. "No, I don't want that. Privacy, I mean, I—"

Aurelie paused, feeling more breathless and silly than anything. There was a little nerve in her to scrape together to continue, at least. "I would like that. Together, that is. I, er. I did say not too long."

[Aremu Ediwo]

Early Evening, Hamis 32, 2720
The Ibutatu House, Isla Dzum

He’d seen hesitation; Aremu knew he had. You don’t have to say yes, he wanted to promise. There was a part of him that was glad she’d said no in the carriage, that was glad to know she would refuse him. She caught his hand before he could withdraw, and brought it up to her cheek. She kissed it, and he smiled, unbidden, some of the tension easing away.

She had the right to want to think about it, he thought; and she had the right to say yes, too, even if she felt hesitant.

“Together,” Aremu said, quietly. He came closer to her, his hand shifting to cup her cheek, stroking a line over her cheekbone. He tilted his head down, just a little, and kissed her again.

For all that he’d liked the thrill of it, in the carriage, for all that he knew now what it was to go further with her, Aremu still thought that he could have kissed her for hours. He let himself slide into the ease of it once more; his hand trailed down over her back, pressing her to him, finding what it was to be intimate together.

He did want that bath, in the end; he felt grimy with the pollution of the city, the sort of thing he wasn’t sure he’d noticed, before he’d come here. They went up the stairs together, Aremu’s fingers twined through Aurelie’s, and into the bathroom she’d made her own, his hat left behind with the rest of their things. He wasn’t in the habit, usually, of leaving things out, but there would be time – later or else tomorrow – to put them away; straightening up wasn’t what he wanted to be doing, just now.

Aremu leaned over the edge of the tub, opening both taps. He turned to Aurelie, smiling; he took his shirt off, first, undoing the buttons with the fingers of his left hand. He shrugged it off his left arm, easily, and guided it over the prosthetic to ease it off his right. He paused only then, frowning; she’d seen him shirtless, Aremu thought slowly, but never –

His torso was a tracery of straps, the prosthetic which was attached at his wrist held in place with straps there, around his forearm, around his elbow, around his shoulder, and even diagonal across his chest. They were none of them necessary to keep the prosthetic in place – a sleeve on the arm would do that – but they let him bear weight on it, even with his arm pointed down.

Aremu wasn’t sure, quite, that he was smiling. “I’m not sure you’ve… seen all of it, before,” he said, quietly, his gaze flicking away from Aurelie. He set about unbuckling the straps, slowly, the one across his chest first; it left behind deep marks in his skin, a reminder of where it had been, even as it came loose. He breathed in, and out again, shifting, and set to the next strap, over his shoulder, the work of undoing long since familiar.

He was conscious, too, of all the scars on his torso. Those, he thought at least, she'd felt. He didn't dislike them, not quite; he'd earned them, and he'd survived them, and he didn't think they made him less of a man. All the same, he felt his own awareness of it, a hum of uncertainty only newly familiar, and he wasn't quite sure what to do with it all.

[Aurelie Steerpike]

Hamis 32, 2720 - Evening | The Ibutatu House, Isla Dzum

Were she to think on it much, Aurelie would have said that this frightened her, this short walk up the stairs with her hand and Aremu's tangled together and how easy it was. Which wasn’t to say there wasn’t anxiety mixed in with all the anticipation; there was, and plenty of it. Aurelie was as she was, after all. But it was entirely too easy to set it aside when she knew she shouldn’t. To extend the kind of trust and comfort that she knew better than to let herself indulge in to this moment. It would only hurt her in the end. It always had, no matter what form it took.

Aurelie was finding that she wasn’t terribly good at doing the things she knew she should. There was a time when she had been; she couldn’t put her finger on when that had changed. One more to add to her list of failings, she supposed.

That was only if she thought on it. Aurelie didn’t think on it. She didn’t think on it when they were kissing. She didn’t think on it when they headed up the stairs, or when Aremu started to run both taps in the bathroom she had come to use like it was her own. She did think when his hand went to the buttons of his shirt, but not on anything she ought to be. Those thoughts were entirely more prurient in nature. He smiled at her, and she smiled back; that was easy, too.

Aremu’s smile fell away sooner than she’d expected. Aurelie didn’t understand why; not at first. She hadn’t done anything, she thought, to have done something wrong. Not yet, anyway. There was a fraction of a heartbeat where she tried to find something that she had or hadn’t done in the moments before, between the doorway and the stairs. Or had was it just that it seemed less appealing an idea now that—

Oh. She blinked; whatever her face was doing in that moment, she couldn’t have said. All of it—Aurelie thought back. She hadn’t, she realized; it hadn’t precisely… She just hadn’t thought of it much at all, aside from some idle curiosity. Her mouth opened, and she shut it again; there was something she ought to say now. If only she knew what it was, she would say it.

”No, er. I don’t think so.” That, she was absolutely sure wasn’t it. The silence had just seemed unbearable. The leather had left marks behind, as anything that bore weight did. She hadn’t thought before, either, how heavy the wood must be, and how difficult to bear. They were simple, and would fade with time—there were all of the others that wouldn’t, that she’d felt underneath her hands but not really looked at before now.

How ridiculous she must have seemed, she thought grimly, about her own scars. Childish and vain, when she had so few by comparison. Nevermind that it was different for him than it was for her. She was childish; if vanity was never something she considered herself having much of, perhaps she was wrong. Aurelie swallowed.

There was some space between them; not much, but some. She had thought to leave it for—what she told herself was a practical reason. Truthfully, it was something more like nervousness. Last night this had been easier for her. Difficult, but not as much as it was now. She stepped in to close it. Wrong or right, she didn’t know what else to do—she stepped even closer and reached out, sliding a hand up his torso to his shoulder and on up to the side of his not-smiling, not-quite-frowning face.

”I am very fond of you,” she said, stupidly. She had meant to say something else, but, well. Now would be a strange time for her to be any better at conversation than she was at any other moment, she supposed. It was true, which was sort of like something.