[Mature] Thin Line (Aura)

[Fionn]

Hamis 32, 2719 | Midday
Laboratory Beta

.

“For someone who’s supposed to be good at lying, I don’t think that I can uh… come up with anything,” he admitted, laughing, head bowing slightly so that when he looked up at her, it was from beneath fine blond lashes. The teenager would have classed his action as being a little bit shy in light of the words that followed but others might not perceive it that way.

“Is the truth so bad? Can I not just admit that I have no real reason for wanting you to stay beyond the fact that I’d like you to? That I just don’t want you to go?”

The query was asked with the greatest innocence, the youth genuinely seeking an answer as he scanned her face. Was he supposed to lie to provide reasons why she should stay? No doubt if someone else had been present, he would have found excuses tripping eagerly off his tongue because it was only natural that he’d have to lie. However, they were alone together now, they had an understanding — or so he’d thought. Now he wasn’t sure if there was some unspoken rule that he’d missed, some need to provide falsehoods when they could both see through then, or was that the point? The blond frowned slightly, thoughtful and somewhat puzzled.

Were they getting a little flirtatious? It was a laughable thought no doubt given everything they’d gotten up to today but it was something that he found himself considering. More than that, it was something to which he had no answer. The young man thought he understood flirting, in theory at least, and he’d probably engaged in it on more than one occasion but it was behaviour he’d picked up, learned to mimic and then twist into something that seemed to be his own. Unfortunately, Fionn’s imitation wasn’t perfect, which meant that he used the wrong words at the wrong times, setting the wrong sort of mood. It was why he so frequently managed to be inappropriate, not truly understanding why something didn’t fit. The young man had probably learned to flirt and no doubt, he managed to use it the right way at the right times most of the time, but he probably managed to use it all wrong more often than was wise. The only problem was that he had no idea when he was using it and when he wasn’t. For him, humour and flirtation were probably closely intertwined.

That fact that the servant didn’t always understand what might be underpinning his speech probably accounted for a high percentage of the punishments he’d received since his gating, and possibly for many of those that had occurred before he came to Brunnhold.

Maybe they’d been doing quite a bit of flirting and he’d been slow to pick it up, at least for the most part. It was times like this that the youth felt remarkably dense and probably justifiably so.

His admittance regarding why he didn’t want to be alone could hardly be constituted as flirting though, not when he was guilty and at least a little miserable as he thought of the pit of despair that he wanted to avoid for the time being. There was definitely a beat of time when they were both too quiet, downcast as he reminded Aurelie of her own grief and he felt something twist painfully within him, regret tightening around his heart because of what he had said so thoughtlessly without any real consideration for her own feelings. Fionn hadn’t meant to have misery snapping at both their heels.

An apology came readily to his lips, only bitten back reluctantly because he feared making things worse by drawing further attention to the kenser in the corner. He need not have worried though, not when he could make poor, teasing remarks and prompt the kitchen maid to say the most delightful things. Either of them could cause the mood to dip but it seemed just as easy for one or other to buoy it back up again. The redhead probably didn’t even think of herself as being particularly cheering but Fionn certainly appreciated it as he found himself grinning broadly, lips drawing back to reveal slightly uneven teeth.

“If my standards are strange well… you’re the one who said so, not me,” the middle Madden quipped, chuckling at his own humour as she visibly squirmed. He really wished she wouldn’t do that — wiggle that way — while she was in his lap but he couldn’t deny that he also appreciated it, the way she taunted and titillated without having the least bit of awareness in all of Vita. A maddening creature truly, but ‘moony’ was a label that he was more than willing to embrace if she drove him in that direction.

“It was a joke though. Obviously. Not uh… not about you being attractive, that’s not the joke, just Keyes- If you don’t think I find you attractive then I don’t, eh… I don’t know how I can make it more obvious. But I’m attracted to you, I think you’re pretty and I would happily spend hours looking at you, houses because you’re deliciously expressive and maybe if I look long enough…”

He trailed off, raising a hand and seeming to trace the shape of her face in the air, wonderingly. He didn’t know if he’d ever be able to draw that face, didn’t know if he’d ever grow good enough to draw her or anyone else for that matter. People were exceptionally difficult to capture, too complex. Perhaps he should try drawing his own first.

“I know I’m attractive and I’m at least a little vain but I’m not as attracted to myself as I am to you,” he explained with a snigger, watching as she rose.

The young woman seemed flustered and self-conscious, momentarily unable to drag her gaze away from the flesh revealed in the open slit of his shirt. The teenager looked down, gazing down his chest to his navel, trying to see himself through her eyes. He thrust his lips out, twisting them pensively as if shifting something around in his mouth. Then instead of straightening his clothing, he tugged his shirt free of the waistband and undid the final buttons, displaying the firm planes of his torso, unblemished on this side, unlike his back.

He leaned forward, head cocked as he considered what she was looking for, noting that the only thing missing was her shoes before he looked down, questing fingers reaching under the couch on which they’d both sat. Bending, he retrieved first one shoe and then another, the two unmatched because one was his own, and stuck his hand back under in search of- There it was!

“Looking for these?” Fionn asked, producing her shoes with a flourish and a fresh grin, mischievous now. He sat back, resting the footwear on his knee, one hand keeping them in place while the other stretched along the back of the couch. With the buttons undone, his shirt flared open wider.

“I’ll let you go, if that’s what you want, lovely.”

Okay, this was definitely flirting. He thought he understood this time around.

[Aurelie Steerpike]

Aurelie had just been teasing. She really should have known better than to tease, though--this hadn't gone well for her, not with Fionn. Or it had gone too well, any response she got making her more flustered than she had been to start with. Was the truth bad? No. Not bad at all, but certainly not--how was she supposed to deal with that, stated so plainly? To be equally plain in response seemed a bit... Aurelie was frequently too honest in the things she said, it was true, but that was accidental most of the time. The result of an inability to contain her tongue. To do it on purpose was unthinkable. Between such a sentiment so openly stated and the effect of his glance up at her, it was all Aurelie could do to not forget how buttons worked. As it was, she missed one and had to fix it after. He had to be doing that on purpose. Absolutely... just absolutely terrible.

"N-no I... no, not bad. Uh. Not at all."

Really, although she couldn't help but feel that Fionn had to know the effect those words and his face would have on her when combined together, Aurelie was flustered mostly by the idea that her company was preferable to solitude. On a purely innocent level, she was happy to hear it. All she wanted to was to be--useful, her presence more helpful than harmful. Even if she pulled the conversation, always, in a direction it didn't need to go. Too heavy, too much. That she would rather be here, tripping over her own tongue, than alone in her own head went without saying. But maybe it wasn't so terrible, after all, if he didn't want her to leave. For no reason, no purpose.

Before she'd come, Aurelie had been worried that if she saw him she would fall to pieces, and if she fell to pieces that would be the end of it. To be wrong was still a strange and wonderful thing. All of it was worth it, if he smiled like that at her. Lady have mercy on such a foolish creature as Aurelie Steerpike--what a completely moony sentiment that was.

Houses? More statements made so plain that--Aurelie was overwhelmed, pleasantly so. Was she allowed to let that show on her face? Well, permissible or not, she was going to. She couldn't contain herself, flustered and pleased in equal measure. That--if the first had been just a question, this was-- Aurelie made an inarticulate noise, not quite a squeak or a laugh. It was hard not to bury her face in her hands and hide from the terrible onslaught of Fionn's complimentary attention.

For a moment, as she looked for her shoes, Aurelie had turned away. This was as much to contain herself as it was out of a genuine desire to find her discarded footwear. If she was to leave, and she knew she had to no matter how much she wished it were otherwise, she couldn't do it if she couldn't stop staring. She needed to reign herself in, master what little degree of self-control she had left. There had to be some, somewhere in her. A little piece of her sensibility that she could call upon now to help her regain some semblance of respectability.

All hope of that was dashed when she turned back. Not only had Fionn not started to straighten himself out, he'd made it absolutely worse. He had her shoes there on his knee and a grin on his face. Did he look a little self-satisfied? Aurelie was put in mind of nothing so much as a cat that had just knocked over something important to you. Except he was very, absolutely not a cat. And he'd undone the rest of his buttons, which she'd wanted to do before but hadn't managed to. There was something a little cruel about him doing so now. Her hands twitched a little at her side, but she kept them there.

"Looking for--oh. Uh. Yes. I. Hmm." Had he seen her looking before? She'd not meant to--that hadn't been-- this was patently unfair. Aurelie managed to drag her eyes away from committing this precise view to memory and look at Fionn's face. Good job, Aurelie. Now just keep... keep it up.

"Y-you. You know I don't want to leave." She had meant the statement to sound scolding, but it came out unornamented and factual instead. Aurelie swallowed, unsure of what she was meant to do. Absolutely not what she wanted to do, which was was climb right back onto Fionn's lap and not leave. Throw her shoes out a window, perhaps. Aurelie drifted a little closer before she stopped herself.

"Are you--are you trying to--" Aurelie looked down, away to the door that remained closed and locked somehow, back. This wasn't fair! This absolutely wasn't fair. Whatever threads of her sanity she'd had intact snapped. Aurelie stepped closer, up against the edge of his knees now. "You're terrible," Aurelie murmured as she leaned forward to brush her lips against his. One of her hands came to brace herself lightly against his chest. There was no venom in her tone, just fondness and indignation laced together. At this rate, she'd never leave.

[Fionn]

Hamis 32, 2719 | Midday
Laboratory Beta

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Taunting the kitchen maid was far too much fun and why shouldn’t he when she’d been tormenting him, consciously or otherwise? How could he help but feel some degree of satisfaction when she turned her attention back to him and had her gaze alight on the bare skin of his torso at once? It seemed a definite possibility that her green eyes would drop out of her head given how round they’d gotten, her pupils seeming to strain to take in as much of him as possible. It appeared to take visible effort to drag her focus from his chest and abdomen up to his face instead. Judging by her expression, it was a wonder that she’d recalled having had shoes at all, never mind that she’d just been searching for them!

“You can look, you know. It’s all right,” Fionn commented, his grin becoming more lopsided, a sly smirk that dimpled one cheek while the other smoothed. “Really, it’s fine. I’m used to it.”

That did it. That one simple throwaway comment made something within him twitch. It was true, of course, which was why it stung him. The smirk remained but under scrutiny, his dimpled cheek would be more rigid, a subtle tension fixing the muscles in place so that it seemed forced, frozen, uncomfortable. It might go unnoticed, his expressions no doubt still providing some mystery to her, not wholly familiar and readily interpreted. More noticeable perhaps would be the shade that entered his brown eyes, the vivacity in them dimming as something in his gaze grew flat, the young man looking through her somewhat. His attention seemed fixed on something beyond her, eyes unfocused as remembrance flickered behind them. His mirth and playfulness grew pale as the past came to haunt him.

It was different when you wanted it, different when you allowed it, accepted it but how often had he allowed such things? How often had he permitted admiring looks and hungry glances, even encouraged them? How often had he purposely invited such attention? How often had he done such a thing but not really wanted it? Control was a powerful thing, even if it was only a thinly veiled illusion — or delusion. Some semblance of power seized by someone powerless, some command taken over one’s own fate to which one had grown resigned wasn’t in question here; this was nothing like those many times. Fionn wanted this, truly invited it because he liked Aurelie and she liked him and while there was lust here, it didn’t have to be sordid — it wasn’t.

It didn’t stop him from feeling the prickle across his skin, the sense of it crawling over muscle and bone. It didn’t prevent the sensation that a grimy layer had settled over him. He didn’t want her looking at him anymore, but the fault wasn’t with her. It could be said that the fault was with him but he hadn’t asked to be objectified by so many, hadn’t wanted his personhood reduced by greedy gazes and and unwelcome hands. It wasn’t her fault and it wasn’t his either.

It was unfair.

Her lips were gentle, lovely, the kiss sweet enough that his pulse fluttered and something in his soul ached in a mix of pain and longing. Why did this have to be sullied? Why could he not enjoy this without having to make it disgusting? What the fuck was wrong with him?

“You’re right, I am terrible,” he murmured, a touch of amusement in his voice but also self-deprecation and a note of sincerity. The blond resisted the urge to sigh. He settled for reaching for his buttons instead, a slow, purposeful fumble, head bowed as he concentrated.

His mouth felt as if it had dried, tongue moving to try to stimulate some moisture before he tried to speak again, no longer impish as he had been before.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have- It was just a, uh- But I am sorry,” the teenager explained hastily, a button slipping first one way and then the other as he tried and failed to push it through its buttonhole. He pressed the button against the fabric, pinching it firmly through the cloth so it had little chance of escape and then wiggled it until it went through hole. He did up the next one before pausing, a weary and exasperated sigh escaping as he realised that everything he’d done so far had been incorrect; the buttons were misaligned because he’d started with the penultimate button at the bottom instead of the final one.

Instead of handling it in a calm and sensible manner, the youth huffed expressively and threw his hands up in the air, head flopping back as he questioned why he’d chosen now to showcase his idiocy. His fingers had taken on that nervous tremor and minor sense of disconnect to the joints that sometimes plagued him while he carried out tasks involving finer motor skills. Right now, he’d be lucky to wield anything smaller than cutlery and even that would be a challenge.

Fingers clenched into fists, the grip not feeling as tight as normal as the bones within felt as if they were floating, the digits not wholly keen to listen to his instructions it seemed. Trying to stifle the shakes only made them worse — no doubt psychosomatic — and so he gave up, tangling his fingers in his unruly blond hair and tugged, strands pulled taut as he resisted the urge to pull them out.

“I can’t even straighten up, I- Gods sorry, I can’t seem to even- I’m sorry,” he reiterated before releasing a soft, self-deprecating chuckle.

“I’m going to have to let you go, I know that but uh… before you go would you mind maybe, um… helping me… with these buttons? I know, I know, it’s pathetic but I uhm… Well, that one answers itself really. I am being pathetic by not even being able to button this clocking shirt right!”

He cringed, cheeks flushed. It was embarrassing to ask but he could do with the assistance.

[Aurelie Steerpike]

Something had shifted. Aurelie pulled back and frowned, trying to place it. Now it was easy not to look away from Fionn's face as she searched the planes and shapes of it to find the change and what it meant. It wasn't that he'd stopped smiling, grin having pulled sideways and frozen there, but there was something stiff about it after a moment. Faded, but Aurelie didn't think she knew him well enough to tell why. Had she done something, said something? She'd called him terrible but it was obvious that wasn't... she didn't mean that. The only terrible thing here was that she had to leave at all, not that he made her want to stay. Should she--was she not supposed to have looked after all? Or not so openly, or...?

Aurelie's frown deepened when Fionn agreed with her, his voice too sincere for what she had meant to have no barb in it. She was happy to stay, no matter his mood. Clearly, as she'd come here in the first place not expecting to find anything like good humor. That didn't mean she liked to see him shut down so. Teasing was better, even if it ruined her ability to string two thoughts together into anything like a sensible arrangement. Aurelie leaned back, trying to walk the line between staring and studying.

"You don't have to apologize," she said slowly, not moving away after she straightened to a standing position again. Had it been something she did? "And you're not... I was only teasing." Maybe she didn't need to say it, but maybe she did. Aurelie decided to err on the side of caution. The last thing she wanted was for him to think she was in any way sincere in her scolding. Sure she was flustered and couldn't keep her composure at all, but she didn't mind, not precisely. Aurelie stood in front of him and wasn't sure if she should move away or stay where she was. Quick as he'd undone them, Fionn was doing his buttons back up again--or making the attempt, it seemed. She was concerned, more with his manner than seeming troubles with fastening shirt buttons.

Although--she kept looking and that concerned her, too. Was it--she didn't want to make it worse, with her attention. She also didn't want to make it uncomfortable by pretending she didn't notice either. She didn't want to hover, but she couldn't help it. After a while, Fionn threw his hands up. The gesture was dramatic, and she would have smiled if it didn't seem sincere as well. He'd given up, it seemed. Aurelie wanted to help, but was keenly aware that her help was not, necessarily, needed or wanted. Even when her hands itched to reach out and be useful, somehow, she just stayed there, watchful. She could offer, maybe. To help, or to not help, to do whatever was needed of her. If she could just figure out how to say it, she would. Even as she resolved to do so, he spoke again.

"Oh--of course I will." Her answer came without hesitation. Aurelie was so surprised to be asked her response was, perhaps, a touch more unvarnished than she would have liked it to have been. Like there was no question that she would. Buttons were an easy enough problem to solve, after all. It was all the rest she didn't know what to do with. There was no judgement in her, not on this, just concern and desire to be useful. If all she could help with was fastening his shirt back up, then that's what she'd do.

"Don't apologize," she added, softly. "It's-- there's no need. It's not... it's fine?"

Aurelie didn't move immediately after she answered, a debate in her mind. Then she knelt on the floor where she'd been standing, careless of what it might look like. It was just easier than another arrangement, unless he stood. Besides, nobody could see them. Slim, calloused fingers made methodical work of each button, pace almost meditative. She was thinking as she pushed each one through fabric, until she got to his collar when she had to look at him again instead of concentrating only on the motion of her hands. There were only a couple of the buttons left to do, but she paused.

"Uhm. I--I don't know if I should ask but, er. Are you... okay? N-not, I mean... hmm." Aurelie stopped speaking, frowning again. She tried to catch and hold his eyes with her own. Was she pressing somewhere she shouldn't, again? The change had just felt so... Aurelie fretted, she always did, over everything, but over things she cared about most of all. Things and people both. "You don't have to-- I don't want to-- Did I do something...? Can I...? Er. You don't have to... say anything you don't... But... are you?"

She did the last buttons and leaned back to settle on her heels. She was embarrassed to have asked so directly. She just didn't think she could leave without doing so, even if he didn't want to answer her. Aurelie wouldn't press again, unless he wanted her to, but she had to ask at least once.

[Fionn]

Hamis 32, 2719 | Midday
Laboratory Beta

.

Sweet Lady, why did he always have to say the wrong thing? Well, she’d prompted such a response from him, albeit inadvertently but she hadn’t meant to provoke such gravity from him. It was Fionn who had soured things, he who had made her teasing remarks seem like insults. But that was him written all over, wasn’t it? He became so wrapped up in himself that he didn’t give a damn about anyone else. Oh, he might think about them, especially in the moment that he might be causing upset, but that didn’t necessarily stop him now, did it? He’d upset her, it seemed or at the very least made her worry again, which with Aura amounted to the same thing.

But it was true, wasn’t it? And he was equally correct to apologise because he was terrible—terrible—and she had no idea. Terrible for what he’d done and what he’d failed to do. The youth was upset to the core, so much of the pain and stress and regret and grief that he stored there tremoring outwards. It proved difficult to hold himself steady when he got like this — it always did — and it only worsened as he tried to suppress it and control it, to carry on in spite of his jangling nerves. In these circumstances, frustration made it worse, well that and anger. Upset. In truth, if an emotion had a negative leaning, it probably made him worse and he was stuck with those right now. It felt unfair — it always felt unfair — but it was happening all the same.

The middle Madden couldn’t help but feel like a child before her, the age gap of a year widening into a gulf between them. How pathetic he was, how useless! It was humiliating to have to ask for her help, to be brought so low that the simple task was beyond him. It would seem strange if he tried to explain it, saying that it was something that just happened sure to be viewed as a weak and pitiful excuse. It was the truth though, there didn’t seem to be a precise trigger, the teenager accustomed to a subtle shake in his hands at the best of times, but that didn’t have any rhyme or reason to it either. The blond was as bad as a chick booted from the nest too soon, utterly incapable of looking after itself. If he’d persisted alone then he would have managed the task eventually but it would be worse to struggle and struggle in front of her, more incapable than normal because she was watching. At least when she was gone, he should be able to do other things by himself, things that didn’t require the same degree of fine motor function. Right now, he felt bitterly embarrassed, a snap hovering on the tip of his tongue, ready to lash out at her if she laughed or made some comment. Typical that, the desire to dish out some of his own misery — to share.

Brown eyes watched her solemnly as Aurelie jumped at the opportunity to help him. She was so kind and so good and he didn’t deserve it. He wasn’t worth the concern that marred her features, or that ready desire to help. If she’d had a field then he imagined that he’d be able to feel her emotions, the way the mona would lap against him, clinging and almost tugging at him in concern. As it was, it was almost tangible and it was all on his account. Maybe she knew that he wasn’t worth it and that was why she hesitated even after she agreed to aid him.

It just made everything so much worse.

His eyes shut, head hanging in a mix of shame and misery while he continued to shake. He didn’t move, Fionn not trusting his legs right now, certain that they’d be too wobbly to facilitate standing for any length of time — not yet anyway.

When he felt her touch, the teenager gave a little start, taking a peek to find her kneeling before him and he turned his head away, afraid that facing her direction — even blindly — might encourage her to look at him. He didn’t think that he could deal with the knowledge that Aurelie was doing that, certain that she’d be scanning it, looking for some sign of what was wrong. Sympathetic and understanding, that was her way.

“I’m sorry...” he reiterated, the blond cringing a little as he remembered that she’d told him not to apologise. He’d screwed that up as well. He sighed again. Well, he’d already done it now so he might as well continue. “I wasn’t trying to… bring down the mood or be so- I’m worse than a child. A child can do up some fucking buttons without…”

He held a hand out palm down so she could see how violently it shook, looking at it himself briefly before both hand and eyes dropped. His companion had paused though, that true anxiety back on his face, visible in his periphery and slowly he gazed upon her properly again, expression becoming pinched at her questions.

No, he wasn’t all right. Fionn wasn’t sure if he’d ever actually been all right. No, there’d probably always been something wrong with him in all honesty, especially mentally but more specifically, he wasn’t feeling good emotionally at the moment, no. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that the kitchen maid thought that she’d caused the change in him but he hadn’t thought about it from her perspective. That was hardly new. The youth was poor at considering how things might look from the perspective of others, especially when those others cared about him. Those people were the easiest to upset and the ones who he seemed to care about the least. He did care though, he really did and he didn’t know what to say right now that would reassure her.

The blond certainly couldn’t tell her about everything that was affecting him because if he told her one bit, he’d have to tell her all of it. The youth didn’t have the time to recount all that now and he wasn’t ready either. Fionn had never told anyone the whole story about himself, the things he’d allowed to be done to him, the things he’d done, the things that he had nightmares about and regretted. It wasn’t fair to give her nothing when she seemed so prepared to give him everything but he couldn’t do it.

Besides, he didn’t like to think how she’d look at him if she found all that out. He doubted that she’d be so concerned for him then.

“I- You didn’t- I just thought of… of something and it- I know you were joking,” Fionn explained lamely, painfully aware how uninformative that was. “I… I am terrible though, joking aside. You don’t… you don’t realise that yet but I-I-I am and I-”

Breaking off, he briefly buried his face in both his trembling hands, a groan escaping him. He let his hands drag down his visage to reveal something old and weary in his gaze that contrasted sharply with the youth in his features.

“I don’t want to talk to you about… about any of it, Aura. I-I-It isn’t personal, there are pl-plenty of things that I’ve never told anyone but… Maybe one day, I- But there’s nothing to talk about now. I-I-I’m sorry.”

The young man didn’t seem able to stem his apologies right now, utterly incapable of being anything but remorseful at the moment. Even so, there was something hopeful in his face as he regarded her closely, teeth pulling at his lip.

“Could I- Before you go, would you mind- Erm… could I… have a hug?” he whispered, his cheeks aflame and his eyes wandering so that he wouldn’t inadvertently catch her green ones. One would think he’d asked for something desperately scandalous!

“Just if you… you wouldn’t mind. I-I-I understand if you… if you w-w-wouldn’t want to, especially when I’m b-being so strange.”

Such a simple thing. If she’d give it then he thought that it might make him feel better, maybe well enough to send off about her business while he slunk off to the little washroom once more and got himself cleaned up. Probably he’d start crying again but he didn’t need her here for that.

Fionn had plenty of things to occupy him, just some of them were entirely fuelled by the negative whispers that came from somewhere within him. He just needed to take one step at a time.

[Aurelie Steerpike]

Fionn had startled, when she reached out. Aurelie cringed inwardly, feeling like she'd overstepped in her eagerness to do something. Her desire to help was genuine, but self-serving in its own way. Aurelie just couldn't abide idleness in the face of discomfort. At least if her hands were moving, if she was doing something, she could feel like something was in her control. Still, she felt she should have done that... better. She wasn't sure how, but she should have done something, she was sure. It was hard not to take the way he didn't look at her personally. The rational part of her knew that it wasn't likely to have much to do with her specifically, given how ashamed Fionn seemed to have been to ask at all. The rational part of her mind was not currently in control, and it stung a little.

Then there he went, apologizing again. For what? For bringing down the mood, when she had come here in the first place so numb with her own grief it was a miracle she'd put one foot in front of the other at all? The mood had started low. To have deviated into anything more pleasant, especially... Especially where things had gone, that had been a gift. Unexpected and wonderful, to be cherished for having happened at all. Aurelie opened her mouth to protest, then thought better of it. Her insistence wouldn't do either of them any good. That much she thought she understood, at least. Aurelie wondered at the shake of his hand, but she kept that to herself as well. She shook her head--no, it was fine. And really, it was, at least as far as her feelings were concerned. He didn't need to be so conscious of her.

This place could twist people. Aurelie knew this, she had seen this, and more than once now Fionn had mentioned something like that. It was tempting to just dismiss what he said, again. To tell him she didn't find him terrible, and what she had seen of him she would be hard-pressed to think could add up to someone who was when combined with anything else. That was a selfish impulse, meant to comfort her more than him. Besides, what did she know? Her heart ached, but what did that matter? Her opinions on him were worth very little indeed, she knew that much. They didn't know each other, hadn't they said that before? Her heart sunk, and she tried to keep it off her face. It was a little easier, when she'd had so much practice these last few days.

"Okay," she agreed, embarrassed to have been so forward. Again. The noise was meant more to acknowledge that she'd heard him, though her tone might have been a little stiffer than normal. "I didn't mean to... I j-just. In case I... I had to ask. Sorry." Hadn't she asked this exact question before? Hadn't she gotten the message--her concern wasn't wanted? He said it wasn't personal, and her head believed him. Part of her heart did, too, after all this. The same part that had felt safe enough to talk even that much about her family, to stay here when she knew, knew, she should have left after Niamh. Long before Niamh left, even.

The other part of her heart, the small but loud part, thought it for a lie. Maybe not on purpose, but a lie all the same. It was selfish and cruel, that part of her. She hated it; the feeling was mutual. What good would telling her do, anyway? Now or at any point in the future? What use would she be? What had made her even ask? Arrogance, that's what it was, to think her concern was any good at all.

Aurelie was so certain she'd done wrong, Fionn's request surprised her. It was so... Well, sweet, really. Straightforward. For a moment she hesitated, not out of unwillingness but a feeling of overwhelming inadequacy. A piece of her twisted and broke, thinking about it. Thinking about how simple a thing he'd asked for. Anything you want from me is yours, she thought in a rush, for as much good as it'll do you. The strength of the conviction surprised her even as she thought it. But what else was she supposed to feel, looking at him now?

"N-no, I... Of course." Her face softened. The tension that pinched it wasn't fully gone, but it had shifted. "Whatever... whatever you want. I-I, well... Hmm."

Aurelie rose from her position crouched on the floor and moved back to the couch next to him. Gently she picked up her shoes and moved them to the floor. She would put them on in a moment, as by now she knew she really and truly had to return to the kitchens and check in with Matron. There was a flash of despair when she realized it would have been better if she could have perhaps asked Niamh to go with her. A problem she would solve when she got that far, really. For now, she had other concerns.

Like, for instance, hugging. Years of Brunnhold hadn't exactly prepared her for even this simple an intimacy. She wasn't the type to be close to others, and they in turn didn't reach out to her in any meaningful way. How long had it been since she'd tried to hold someone else, whatever the context? Aurelie was ashamed to realize that it might have been years. Present company excepted. Her sister--but Ana had reached for her, not the other way around. Aurelie's arms felt leaden at her side. Surely, if she could reach out and touch his arm when they might have gotten caught, she could do this where nobody would see them. Even she could do that.

Aurelie took a breath to steady herself and her jangling nerves, then twisted to lean forward and draw Fionn to her as best as she could from the slightly awkward perch she'd taken up at his side. She was tentative at first, afraid of doing something wrong. But if he didn't stop her, she would crush him to her harder, overwhelmed by some desperation she didn't know was there. Different than before, driven by tenderness more than desire. After a moment, she drew back. Her face was red and she smiled sheepishly, though he couldn't possibly know how overwhelmed she was by such a gesture. Briefly, she touched the back of one of his hands.

"I, er, I really do need t-to go now. Especially since I'll--I'll be showing up alone. W-without, er, Niamh I mean. Because. Well. Yes. But, ah," Aurelie paused and looked away, busying herself with her shoes. "But... Thank you. F-for, er, letting me go on and on and... And... Well." She cleared her throat. After finishing the last of her laces, she turned to look at him again.

"And if you... if you need me, for anything at all, I... I w-want to... You know where I am, and I h-hope you... I will always be happy to help, if I can. Please." She made the offer like it was a plea instead. "Or," she added hopefully, "if you just want to see me. B-because I--I will. Want to. Ah. Yes."

[Fionn]

Hamis 32, 2719 | Midday
Laboratory Beta

.

He’d tried to spare her feelings and not because he’d simply wanted to take the pain from her face, the doubt that she was good enough to hear this, wasn’t important enough. He’d said it because he meant it, not as a simple gesture to make her feel better. If he was to tell anyone the whole story then he felt that it could be her. Aura would listen, she would pass neither comment nor judgment and at the end of it all, she would provide comfort. Whether she’d ever speak to him again or not, Fionn wasn’t sure but he thought she’d be willing to listen. Of all the people he’d known, the young man felt that she was the most likely candidate if he chose to unburden himself to anyone. She was special in that regard but she didn’t realise that he held her in such high esteem and the young man was hardly in the position to explain. The youth couldn’t articulate anything properly right now, even expressing the desire to be hugged proving to be something of a production.

Right now, he didn’t have the words. Oh, they might be filling up his skull in an assortment of sizes and syllables but they were useless to him.

His gaze skittered away, a pained pinch to his brows as he struggled to find the necessary words to explain what he knew in his heart, brown eyes flicking briefly upwards as if he was calculating something on top of his head. His mouth opened, ready to receive rhetoric that never came and his features contorting momentarily in frustration before he released a weary sigh and slumped.

In spite of his inability to articulate himself, his selfish request worked to take a lot of the tension out of her expression, the kitchen maid softening substantially as empathy overrode all else. It came so naturally to her that desire to comfort, the young woman so ready to clasp everyone and everything to her. Not that he’d seen her do such a thing but he could imagine it. She had that demeanour at times — caring, warm, parental. Funny, he didn’t think that he gave off such an air and yet he supposed he could be said to adopt that air when he was around youngsters. For him, it probably seemed strange, but for her? It was easy to imagine this being Aurelie’s natural state.

Despite her initial eager declaration, she hesitated and Fionn feared that she’d already thought better of it, maybe uncertain now that she’d had a tick to consider. Everything she did… well, obviously she had to get off the floor and it made sense to move her shoes but they felt like delay tactics. At the very least, they gave her a chance to think and that’s why she went still, sitting beside him as if-

Why should a hug be more awkward than anything else? Logically, it made no sense whatsoever given what they’d just done but emotionally, the teenager understood. Damnit, it was possible to have sex with someone and to have it be no more intimate than a fleeting glance. It wasn’t the physicality so much as the intent behind it, the feelings. He could have sex and it could mean nothing, an itch to tend to but a hug? Did anyone ever hug without it meaning something? It was strange just how much of a connection there could be in such a simple act.

The young woman embraced him tentatively, her hesitancy suggesting that she simultaneously didn’t want to touch him at all and didn’t want to grasp him too hard. He could understand it, even if he knew that he obviously wasn’t made of porcelain. Of course, he understood. After all, he was the one who put his arms around her middle with equal delicacy in return as if frightened to accept something for which he himself had asked. They slotted together somewhat awkwardly, not at all like the way had not so long ago and he found himself regretting his request, the youth aware that he was simply making them both uncomfortable and it was making him feel worse as opposed to better. But then she clasped him to her so hard as if she was afraid to let him go and he found himself clinging to her, aware that his lip was wobbling — why not add unsteadiness to another part of his body after all? — and he felt on the verge of tears again.

The other passive was smaller than him and yet in that moment, all his emotions left him feeling compressed, the desperate way he held onto her reminiscent of a small child clinging to its mother’s skirts rather than of a grown man.

When her embrace loosened, he eased his own grasp, still trembling but feeling less unsteady inside. The blond’s face burned and he managed a shy, self-conscious smile in response to her own before allowing his gaze to drift off to one side. He couldn’t convey how grateful he was, just as he hadn’t been capable of explaining how dear she was to him before but he hoped that she understood. Perhaps the answering tightness of his own grasp had been enough for her to sense it.

“I know, of course, you can’t be- I get it. It’s all right,” he explained in a hasty murmur. “I need to go do some work myself. I’ll uh… let you go first though so it doesn’t- In case anybody is- I need to, uh... clean up in the water closet anyway.”

The teenager turned himself away from her a bit as she laced up her shoes, not certain when he should rise and put distance between them, not sure that he should say anything further about why he needed to get himself cleaned up.

“You don’t have t-t-to thank me. I’d do it again. In a heartbeat,” Fionn whispered, nervously meeting her gaze as she turned to him. It was his turn to clear his throat, the young man taking the opportunity to stand, hands smoothing the material of his shirt as he moved to the washroom door. He hovered, angling his body towards her so he didn’t appear too eager to get away, especially in light of her words.

“Yes, I… I know where to find you. I… I appreciate it and of course, I’ll- When I can risk it, I’ll try to see you. I w-w-want to see you. I just… I don’t want to get you into trouble. I’m a, uh… a terrible influence, don’t you know?” he managed with a hollow chuckle, the ghost of a smile on his lips while his gaze remained sad. Already, he could feel the weight of loneliness and grief settling onto his shoulders.

It didn’t matter who you had to share it with, grief was always a personal thing, a solitary thing. This was something only he could deal with and it was a lonely thing indeed.

“Thank you.”

With his farewell said, he slipped into the other room and closed the door between them softly, leaving Aura alone with the key to the main door and the burden of her own grief.

[Aurelie Steerpike]

A hug wasn't much, not really. Aurelie had agreed to it without really having to think on it. Still, she had hesitated, worried about so many things. Like she always was. Though they had both started tentatively and awkward, but she'd gotten swept up in her own emotions quick enough. Wasn't that just an apt descriptor for their entire relationship? Such as it was, anyway. Fionn clung to her, and she tried her best to communicate all her concern and affection and tenderness through the pressure of her arms. Words seemed poor carriers of feeling. Hopefully this was understandable enough. Aurelie had been reluctant to let go, but knew she had to in the end.

That shy smile returned to her lit her up, as worried as she was. So dear, so--but he looked away, and she did too, and started muttering to her shoes. If her hands fumbled a little, it was only because she was tired, and not because she was thinking about whether or not the strength of his grasp on her a moment ago meant the same thing as what she'd tried to convey. "In a heartbeat", he'd said and she--she felt hers skip, just a little. It was good he took the chance to stand, because Aurelie didn't know how she would have managed to do so herself if he was still sitting next to her.

"R-right. I don't want to--I don't want you to--no. T-trouble would be. Er. Troublesome. Yes." She smiled though, even as she bit her lip to try to keep it from going too far. He wanted to see her. He kept saying and she kept trying to keep those memories in her heart like talismans against her lonely anxiety. Of course he couldn't just--just waltz in and casually ask after her, any more than she could do the same. No matter how much she wished it to be true.

"Oh! Y-you're. You're welcome." Aurelie hovered for a moment after he slipped into the other room, staring at the door. At last she was alone, truly alone, just the room and her feelings. She kept her eyes on the door Fionn had just closed, unmoving. She just need a moment, to compose herself. To process--all of that. The everything. All the grief and the strangeness and the joy at war inside of her, trying to burst outwards.

She had been afraid, earlier, that her feelings would only grow if she let them. Now she was afraid there was nothing she could do to prevent it, because every moment they seemed bigger than the moment before. Aurelie could see with terrible clarity the path her heart was on. She could see, also, that there might not be any good end to it. Only a fool would take this road. Wasn't she always the first to say that she wasn't very clever?

The key to the door was still on the table; she picked it up and unlocked the door before returning it to where it had been. Hopefully Fionn would think to put it away--she hadn't noticed where it came from. At the door she stopped again, giving one last look to the washroom door. Fionn was just on the other side. This time she thought she knew that it would likely be a while before she saw him again in any meaningful way. It would ache more now, she thought, but be a little easier to deal with as well.

"Goodbye," she said softly, her voice too quiet to carry through the door. Her work was waiting for her, and her sorrow too. Aurelie touched the locket at her neck with a hand, the other coming to rest for just a moment at her mouth before she brought them both down to her sides. At last, she turned left, the door to the lab closing behind her with almost no sound at all.