[Closed, Mature] I will not ask you

[Aremu Ediwo]

Late Afternoon, Hamis 32, 2720
A Ferry from Laus Oma to Dzum

They wandered through the garden, Aurelie’s hand curled in his and her shoulder brushing against him. In the humid indoor heat she was close enough to have been uncomfortable, but Aremu found he could not mind. They went slowly, very slowly, as if Aurelie wished to examine every flower one by one before moving on even a step.

Aremu couldn’t quite have said he minded that either; between the flowers and Aurelie herself he found he had more than enough to occupy him. He didn’t worry about other visitors drifting past them; he couldn’t.

All day, Aremu thought, and perhaps even before, he had harbored a secret fear that any moment, Aurelie’s right to be there should be questioned. It was obvious to him what she was, with how small and red haired she was, and only worse for their holding hands. He had, in thinking it over, decided that the best way out was through, so to speak, and that they should do best by behaving as if there were nothing to see.

So he had tried to do, and it did, Aremu thought, seem to work. There were no particular second looks their way, no questions or other oddities. They were left to drift through the orchid garden and the crowd in peace, to admire the vibrant fall of colors and all the different shades of orchids.

Aremu had squeezed Aurelie’s hand a little, his thumb stroking over it, when she spoke of her mother. “I’m glad you like them,” he had said, in the end, although largely because he hadn’t known what else to say.

They dawdled, a little while, and then the last of their group was being politely told to go, and they too went back through the small exit hall, and out through another set of glass doors and back to the path.

It was time, then, to go; Aremu hailed a public cab headed towards the wharf, and climbed in beside Aurelie. An older imbali couple sat opposite them, talking in quiet Mugrobi throughout about some issue with their tomato plants. Aremu didn’t let go of Aurelie’s hand, startled to find just how tired he was.

It didn’t let up; there was the tricky business of getting the engine part onto the boat with them, and by the time Aremu had it set down, he was on the verge of swaying on his feet. The boat was already pulling away; they had been just in time.

He sat down beside Aurelie, meaning to make conversation, and instead found himself leaning against her, just a little - felt the soft warmth of her beneath his cheek as he let his eyes drift shut, smelling the soft scent of her and feeling the rhythmic shift of her breath as he dozed off.

[Aurelie Steerpike]

Hamis 32, 2720 - Later Afternoon | The Ferry to Isla Dzum

"I do," she agreed, warm. "This was a good idea. Thank you."

If Aremu was bored or unhappy staying by her side as she drifted very slowly past each and every flower, he gave her no indication. He hadn't done so at the store either, although Aurelie was quite certain it had been as truly dull as she had feared. It was a particular kindness, a sort of indulgence in her habits that she didn't know what to do with. Other than be grateful, of course. Other than to let it spread all warm through her until she couldn't tell which she liked more: her slow meandering through the garden, or that Aremu was being so patient with her while she did it.

Eventually they were rather gently told to leave. Aurelie hadn't thought she had been quite so slow, but the rest of the group had already exited so she supposed she must have been. She felt the strongest urge to apologize, but couldn't decide how soon enough. And besides, looking at Aremu, he seemed rather tired. This was the last of their plans—even if that hadn't been the intention, that was what it would have become. She had been plenty selfish today; it was time to go back.

And lucky they had, too. Aurelie couldn't help but feel guilty that her dawdling had very nearly made them miss the ferry back to Dzum. She knew better! Aremu had already admitted he had pushed himself today, too, further than he should have. It was simply that in her delight with the flowers, she had forgotten. Selfishly, she had forgotten and she had lost track of time. But the part was loaded onto the ship with them, and they had made it. So that was sort of all right then, in the end. She would just be mindful next time. If there was a next time.

She tried to tell herself not to want it or even think about it. That was too far into a future she couldn't see or count on. Aurelie told herself lots of things; it rarely seemed to do her much good.

When they sat, Aurelie became aware of the fact that it wasn't just Aremu who was tired. Not nearly as much, she didn't think. But it had been something of a long day. A good one—mostly. Largely; the bit in the middle, the bit she couldn't seem to sort through and put aside fully, was only a very small part. There was a lull of quiet, and before she could think of anything to fill it she felt Aremu's weight settle against her.

There were a few other people on this ferry, as there had been in the morning. One of them, an older woman with no field to speak of and a small child on her lap, looked across at them and smiled. Aurelie felt her face turn bright red and she looked down, but she couldn't, not for anything, move much more than that. If she glanced up, she could see Aremu's eyes were closed. His breathing was steady; he had, she thought, fallen asleep.

Well, Aurelie thought, that was only reasonable. She had dragged the poor man slowly around after her, and he was firmly not fully recovered from the storm. An aching kind of tenderness washed over her and softened all the lines of her face. Idiot, she thought, and knew herself for what she was. There was simply nothing to be done for it.

She looked at him sidelong and wondered if she should wake him. Surely he hadn't meant to drift off. But Aurelie stayed still; she did not, in the end, actually want to. Either he could wake on his own, or she would do so when they were very nearly there. Part of her knew it was as much her own selfishness as true concern that motivated her. There was nothing to be done for that either, and it seemed harmless enough. Her thumb traced the smallest path on his hand, and she held as still as she could, smiling just a bit to herself.

[Aremu Ediwo]

Late Afternoon, Hamis 32, 2720
A Ferry from Laus Oma to Dzum

The ship was shifting beneath him, and Aremu slept.

He rocked when it did, his arms and legs tucked against his sides in the midst of the hammock. The window was open and the breeze blew in from outside, and what had been cool and pleasant earlier was fast and cold now. There was a warmth against him, tucked into his side, though he couldn’t turn to look at her.

What he saw was the light of the stars, which trickled in on the cold air and lit through him, tracing his outline on the bed. It was a bed, then, sheets and pillows and blanket and he didn’t think it had ever been anything else, and he was only the edges of himself, traced against it in starlight, with nothing in the center.

Aremu jerked, and he heard his breath catch, and something like a snort. He grunted, shifting himself upright, and taking a deep breath in. He looked down at his hand, and Aurelie’s curled into it, breathing a little harder than he meant to. It eased, slowly; Aremu took a deep breath, slowly.

He stroked Aurelie’s hand with his thumb, and then he pulled his hand away from hers, taking a deep breath. He rubbed it over his face, and adjusted the way the straw hat he was still wearing sat, careful of the bandage beneath.

“I’ll get some tea,” Aremu said, quietly, his voice something of a hoarse scratch in his throat. From the evening shift of the light outside, he thought, they must nearly have been to Dzum; he smiled at Aurelie, and then rose and left her with all their things, for just a few moments.

There was a breeze, of course, drifting in through the windows and whisking over his face. When he dawdled, it was in the hallway out of sight, just a moment where he tilted his head back against the hallway and let it wash over him, and didn’t try to crane his head out for a view of the stars above. There was a dull ache throbbing somewhere in the back of his skull, pleasant and strange, and his tongue felt thick and heavy.

He came back with two cups of tea, Aurelie’s in his hand and his own tucked between his arm and his body. He handed hers to her with another smile, and sat down beside her, curling his fingers around his own. He took a little sip of it, and then settled back against his seat once more.

There was the honk of the horn overhead, rattling through the ship; the little girl asleep in her mother’s lap opposite them didn’t stir.

“We’ll be approaching the harbor,” Aremu murmured, smiling over at Aurelie. “Ten minutes to go, I'd say,” he took another sip of his tea, settling the bottom of the cup down against his thigh, fingers holding lightly to the brim.

[Aurelie Steerpike]

Hamis 32, 2720 - Late Afternoon| The Ferry to Isla Dzum

Aurelie had not quite drifted off herself, but she had come close. It was comfortable sitting there on that seat, the weight of Aremu leaning against her and the gentle motion of the ferry beneath her. There was a sort of aching half-space between sleeping and wakefulness that came over a person when they were tired and unable to sleep. The numbness of standing in the hallway while rooms were inspected at odd hours, of a bath taken too late. Of staying on one's feet through the last of a long day. This was more pleasant than those, but aggravating all the same.

At least Aremu seemed to be truly asleep, Aurelie thought to herself as she looked over. She hoped so, anyway. A little rest was good. And he could get more when they were back at the house; anything that needed doing she could hopefully do instead.

She hadn't marked the time in that half-state, so she couldn't have said when it was that Aremu woke. She thought they weren't far out now, but she hadn't been sure and so had let him sleep. Even if the sleep seemed uneasy, as she was beginning to notice his so often was. Aremu shifted when he woke, and pulled his hand away to scrub at his face and adjust his hat.

"That sounds like a good idea," she agreed; she could feel the dregs of the smile from earlier on her face still. She didn't really think she needed the tea in particular, but his voice told her that Aremu did. And it was likely good for him to get up after sleeping like that; it hadn't struck her as the most comfortable thing to be doing.

While he was gone, she resettled slightly, shifting so that she was more properly upright. The correction of her posture made her feel more awake, and the tea Aremu carried when he returned cleared up the rest of her drowsiness. If it hadn't been the tea, there was always the horn. The little girl across from them didn't wake; Aurelie smiled into her cup.

"Perhaps you should take a proper rest when we get back to the house," she suggested, quietly. There was a sleepy sort of peacefulness still, though the other passengers were stirring themselves to gather their things and prepare for departure. "I can't imagine that was particularly—restful." Not leaned up against her like that, it couldn't have been.

[Aremu Ediwo]

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

Aremu was looking down at his small cup of tea, the dark liquid of it shifting lightly with the ferry, steam swirling off the surface and trickling into the air. He took another sip. It did a good deal for the strange fuzzy taste in his mouth, for the strange fuzzy feeling in his head, both left behind from the dregs of sleep.

Aurelie suggested he rest when they get home; Aremu smiled over at her, not sure what to say. You don’t need to take care of me seemed rude, ruder than he wanted to be. I’m fine had begun to feel like a prayer, words repeated into the air too many times, with little meaning to them but hope.

“It wasn’t so bad,” Aremu said quietly, instead. ”I’m sorry if it was uncomfortable for you.”

The cup of tea wasn’t so full now; he rested it against his side, and turned a little. His fingers stroked through Aurelie’s hair, teasing a long strand of it behind her ear. He wanted very badly to kiss her, Aremu thought. More than rest, he knew, that was what he needed - not the physical release of it, nor even the way it washed the rest of the world away.

If she still wants me, some part of him seemed to whisper, then my mistakes aren’t too many - not yet -

There wasn’t much time. Aremu finished the last of his tea as they came closer to the docks; he knew the sight of Western Port through the window, even as the light kept fading. The sunset was brilliant as they came out, colors streaking over the sky, brighter and fading to red.

Aremu carried the crate with his engine part, gripped in his arms, the bag with his and Aurelie’s books aching over his shoulder, and her yellow fabric tucked into the spaces between. It wasn’t hard for him to balance over the gangway from the ferry back to the dock; it was awkward more than heavy, though he still didn’t plan to carry it back to the house.

Western Port wasn’t busy and bustling as Laus Oma had been, but there was life enough, even at this hour. There were, too, a handful of moa driven carriages waiting off to the side.

“Una,” Aremu called, inclining his head to a whip-thin Mugrobi dura leaning against the side of one.

The man spat off to the side and grinned, revealing a mouth of crooked and stained teeth; nonetheless, the smile caught all the wrinkles and lines around his face.

“Back to the house, ada’xa?” Una asked in Mugrobi.

“Ea,” Aremu said.

They settled the crate inside on the floor of the carriage. For all Una smelled like the gutka he liked to chew, the inside of the carriage was pristine, with the faint scent of jasmine beneath the lamp.

Aremu held the door for Aurelie, and climbed in after her, sitting opposite her. There was the shifting of Una climbing in outside, and the carriage began to move.

“Come here, please,” Aremu said, softly, his hand extending to her. If Aurelie took it, he would tuck her inside his lap - with her back against him, her side, her front, however she wanted - and he would wrap his arms around her, Aremu thought, aching for it, as best as he could.

[Aurelie Steerpike]

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

That wasn't what she had meant at all—it wasn't her comfort or discomfort she was concerned with at all. She had, actually, been more comfortable than she would have expected. Rather, she had forgotten to be uncomfortable despite the public nature of where they were. What she was concerned with was, really, just her eternal fussing. One day it would wear thin, but she couldn't seem to stop doing it. The clarification didn't really matter in that light; Aurelie let it go.

"Not at all," she said, truthful and simple, with a little shrug and a smile.

It wasn't long before the ferry docked, and they gathered up their things to leave it. Aurelie rather thought that she could have carried something else—the books, or her fabric at least since that was just for her—but Aremu had it all. The words to insist without sounding like she thought him incapable didn't come to her in time, and she settled for frowning slightly to herself. When they got back to the house, at least, she would carry some of it inside.

There were only a few clouds on the horizon to catch the color of the sunset as it dipped towards the sea, but what was caught was brilliant and bright. Aurelie had yet to see a sunset that didn't feel so, here. She wondered if one adjusted eventually, and stopped noticing. It must be so, and the idea still made her just the slightest bit sad.

To one side, there were a few carriages. They approached one, and Aremu called out to the human man leaning up against it. Every stitch of her had to restrain itself from giving in to revulsion when he spat. It really was a vile habit; she had never been able to abide it. The habit was rude, of course, but so was any open expression of distaste. She succeeded, she thought, but only barely.

At the very least, the carriage itself was not nearly so unpleasant. That was all right then; Aurelie did try to constrain her sensibilities to her own person, and that which affected her directly. She climbed inside happily enough. It was odd; the day had been lovely on the whole, but now that they were back in Dzum she wanted nothing more than to go back to the house. To be among things rapidly becoming familiar, and perhaps even take care of a small chore or two. It wasn't even her home, she reflected as the carriage lurched into motion, and she was still a homebody in it.

What she wanted most of all was privacy, maybe. She wasn't used to being alone, she wasn't used to having real privacy—but she wasn't used to feeling visible, either, not in a proper way. To that end, even the carriage was pleasing. She had been carrying this small, nervous knot in her chest all day. It didn't untie, not completely, but it did loosen.

Maybe it was that slight loosening that allowed her to not think twice when Aremu held out his hand. They were alone, here in the back of the carriage, for the first time all day. They were alone most of the time, so she wasn't sure why it seemed so important to be so now. It just did. It was inappropriate, she knew, to so easily take his hand and settle herself into his lap, spine settled against his chest. Especially here, although this was true all of the time no matter where they were. Somehow, she couldn't quite care enough not to do it.

"I, uhm—hmm." She thought that she ought to say something, but when she opened her mouth there was nothing there to say. She was happy just like this, with his arms around her and his warmth at her back; it didn't require much commentary. She did tilt her head back to look up at him, and she smiled. "I had fun," she offered, even though she'd already said it more than once. It was better than nothing, maybe. Better than just the sound of her heart in her chest, trying to escape.

[Aremu Ediwo]

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

Aremu had thought she might not come. It was too public still, he told himself; if she didn’t, then it might be that, and not - something tightened in the pit of his stomach, and he held off from succumbing to the unpleasantness of the direction his thoughts wished to take.

Aurelie didn’t hesitate; her hand settled into his, and she sat in his lap, the curve of her spine tucked against his chest. Aremu wrapped his arms around her, his right wrist carefully away, but his forearm still settled against her. He pressed his lips softly to her hair.

She smelled, he thought, smiling a little, ineffably Aurelie. He thought maybe he should have smelled orchids, or salt water, or even fish from the wharf; all he seemed to smell was her. He could feel the shift of each of her breaths; she settled a little against him, and he closed his eyes, smiling, his left hand curling over her.

“I’m glad,” Aremu said, softly, when Aurelie spoke. Something else in him relaxed a little; he pressed his lips to her hair once more, closing his eyes for a moment.

They were rolling steadily over the paved streets. The cobblestones were set slightly apart, with gaps and dampness between them, but kept up well enough that the rattling of the carriage was only a little, soft quick bumps rather than the harder rough jolting that bad roads could bring.

There was noise too, drifting it from outside, washing over them - the clucking of other moa and the rattling of wheels, the occasional loud burst of sound. All of it was muffled by the curtains over the window; a little light leaked in through them, here and there where the lanterns had been lit. Aremu had not pulled the curtains back; he did not think to do so now.

“I had fun too,” Aremu said, smiling. He meant it, too, thinking about the happy, intent look on her face as they tasted the dishes at lunch together, of her focus and joy even as she examined what had seemed like every bead in the entire store. He tried not to think of the tight look on her face in Tsadha’s carriage, an odd sour note in an otherwise sweet day. Not, a Aremu thought, his chest aching, the sort of sour which complimented the sweet, but some discordant note which seemed quite apart, and threatened to spoil the whole.

Only threatened, Aremu thought, smiling down at her. She had said it, before, he knew; she had told him she liked the orchids, that she was having fun. He didn’t know why he needed more reassurance; he was sorry if he had demanded it of her unknowing, but not so much that he couldn’t enjoy it.

“What would you like to do next time?” Aremu asked. He stroked her arm a little, still holding her close, smiling down at her. Their faces were only a few inches apart; it would have been terribly easy to close the last of the distance. He wanted to; he wanted to kiss her, and badly. But he held off, though the longing tangled through him and throbbed deep inside him. He wanted to talk first; he wanted, too, to be sure of what she wanted, and not to be too - insistent, he thought.

[Aurelie Steerpike]

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

One day, Aurelie thought absently, she would ask what had happened. She was curious; she didn't think there was any way not to be, and she was reminded when she noticed how carefully he kept the wrist away from her. It was that care, too, that made it hard to ask. People felt all sorts of ways about these things, she knew that much. Some minded more than others; Aremu struck her as the sort who minded. If she asked, she knew he would answer. But at what cost? Aurelie couldn't say, so she couldn't ask.

That wasn't the first thing on her mind now, either. Not wrapped up so nicely like this, kisses pressed to her hair. The carriage rattled on, a steady sort of rumbling, and the sounds from outside seemed further away than they were. With the curtain drawn over the window, anything outside of the small, jasmine-scented space of the carriage interior might as well not exist at all.

"Did you?" she asked, still looking up. The question was less sincere than it might have been, and didn't wipe the soft smile from her face. He had been very patient; she couldn't imagine that was quite the same as enjoying himself. After all, so much of the day had been taken up by things she wanted to do—and do slowly at that. She settled her hand over the back of his, holding it in place.

Next time. A simple idea, and it struck her more deeply than she knew what to do with. A future time, stated so simply, as if— She swallowed, her throat suddenly caught. "I want to do something you like," she managed, more soft than she meant. "More than waiting for me to finish looking at beads, I mean."

His face was terribly close, just inches away from her own. There was a pleasant sort of tension in that, away from anyone else's eyes in the soft light that they were bathed in. She could kiss him very easily from this distance; she wanted to, but she didn't. Once she started, she wasn't sure she would stop. And she did like talking, too, generally. If not equally about all topics.

"I'm easy to please," she went on, just a little breathless, "I, uhm, meant it earlier. Er. I do just... I like your company, uhm, and I don't much mind where we are. I'm sorry, that must be a little..." A little what, she didn't know. Odd. Embarrassing, for one or both of them. None of it was to say that she hadn't appreciated the effort, that it hadn't made her pleased and flustered that it seemed like so much thought had been put into the day. But she was, in the end, truly easy to please. Maybe one day that would change, when everything didn't feel so new—if such a day ever came—but for now? Now she just needed him to take her hand and smile at her from time to time and she was rather more content than she should be. Foolish and true.

[Aremu Ediwo]

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

Aremu stilled a little behind her, when Aurelie said she would like to do something he liked. He breathed in deep, as if he could exhale out the faint, strange sense of hurt. He could not quite put his finger on the wound, though he thought - a little absurd, a little tired - that that meant he could not staunch the bleeding. Of course, Aremu thought, most wounds stopped bleeding on their own; if this one was not too deep, he supposed, it should too.

“I liked watching you look at beads,” Aremu said, quietly. He didn’t hear any hurt in his voice; he had worked hard to keep the hurt out of it. He had tried for playful; he didn’t know if he had succeeded, but he didn’t think he had failed too badly either.

He meant it, too, Aremu thought; he didn’t know anything of truth, but he would have called this true all the same. He had enjoyed it; he had been glad to wait for her, and should have waited longer without complaint, if she had wanted to.

Aurelie went on, a little breathless. Easy to please, she said, and Aremu couldn’t help his grin, abruptly aware of the soft warm weight of her in his lap, the feeling of her nestled against his chest and thighs, even her fingers curled over his.

“I don’t, uh,” Aremu hadn’t meant to let the silence drag on, but it did, just a little, a few breaths of quiet between the two of them. The ground smoothed out a little beneath the wheels of the carriage, and the noises which drifted in grew a little quieter.

“I don’t do much which is interesting, I’m afraid,” Aremu said, quietly. Most of nights in Laus Oma, he might have said, I spend with Tsadha or else looking for someone else to - he couldn’t imagine saying such a thing to her. He wasn’t sure he could have imagined saying it at all. He thought of the bars by the wharf, of encounters which did not shame him, and yet he did not think Aurelie would want to hear of it.

Even that, Aremu thought slowly, and was not sure how long it had been; Tsadha he had seen before going to Thul Ka, but otherwise -

“I stay on Dzum, mostly, cooking, running and swimming,” Aremu said, smiling down at her a little. “I like to walk in the city, I think; I like to go to restaurants,” he shrugged a little, feeling her shift against him as he did. His thumb stroked over her, light and gentle.

“I’ll think of something,” he said, brushing his lips over her hair once more, and settling his arms a little more firmly around her once more. There was an odd sort of pressure to it, he thought, to have to choose something which would please him. He didn’t know why it should seem so when he had liked choosing for her so much, and yet - and yet, Aremu thought.

She’d had fun, he told himself; that was what he had wanted. There was too much and not enough to read into her request; he tried to let it go, though he had never been good at such relinquishing.

[Aurelie Steerpike]

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

Had that been the wrong thing to say? She had said she wanted to do something Aremu liked, and he had grown still and taken a deep breath behind her. His voice was normal, though, when he spoke, so she wasn't sure. Almost playful, but not quite—which was in and of itself quite normal. She couldn't imagine why he would like watching her slowly amble around a shop, but she did trust that he meant it. In some way, at least.

And he'd smiled at her, when she said she was easy to please. Grinned at her, more accurately, and she wasn't quite sure why. That was all right, she supposed; she couldn't have said something too strange if he was grinning at her. Well, something too strange in a bad way. If it had been strange but at least amusing, that was also acceptable. The silence that stretched out made her less nervous than it might have because of it.

Ah, maybe that was the reason for the silence, and the stillness. Aurelie thought she had rather reacted the same when asked; maybe it was unfair of her to pass the same burden along. Just because she didn't know what to choose, or what to do. She could feel him shrug behind her; it was an odd, pleasant thing, to be able to feel the way someone else's muscles and breath shifted with every gesture.

"I don't need to be entertained," she said with a smile. "I, ah, I just wanted to— You are, uhm, interesting. Walking around a-and going to restaurants sounds good to me." She didn't know why she'd said all of that. Surely it was obvious. Painfully, unfortunately obvious. Aurelie knew very well that she was seemingly incapable of subtlety, despite her best efforts. Ah, well. There wasn't anything she could do for it.

Like now, she was losing track a bit of what they were talking about, because she was looking up at him. Watching him speak as much as listening, though she was—she was!—listening. It was a dreadful habit, letting herself get carried away by the proximity as she was wont to do. Not entirely her fault; he was very close, after all, and terribly lovely, and, well. Perhaps it was her fault. The problem did seem to be rather localized to her, in the end.

Aurelie twisted herself just a little bit so she could reach up and rest a hand softly against the side of his face. They were still talking, she thought. So she wouldn't—she was trying her best not to get distracted. Her best just wasn't very good, no more here than it was in so many other arenas.