[Closed] Point of No Return

[Aurelie Steerpike]

Stupid! The question had been so... so stupid! A stupid question from a stupid girl. Why, why, why had she decided to push the issue? Couldn't she tell he didn't want to say--whatever it was? Aurelie looked at him and he squirmed like he was being tortured. There was a distinct sinking feeling in her heart--the certainty that the answer he was avoiding was one she wouldn't like.

That would be appropriate, she thought. Of course they... they liked each other. Aurelie reminded herself of that, oh, nearly every day when doubt threatened to swallow her up. Still, she was stupid to think--she didn't know what she thought. They barely knew each other! It wasn't fair of her to have asked, to expect whatever it is that she was expecting. Hoping for, at least. He was practically turning himself inside out trying to answer her question. Part of her wanted to stop him and rescue him from the attempt. The bigger part wanted to know. Just what did he think?

Oh, couldn't he just tell her that they were... maybe more than friends, but not in the way she wanted, or... or whatever it was, and get it over with? Was he trying to think of the kindest way to let her down? That must be it, but she didn't think he was succeeding if that was the aim. This stammering about was doing her anxiety no favors. Not that she could be upset with him of course. Surely one didn't break out in a cold sweat to say something you thought the other person wanted to hear? How bad was it, anyway? Aurelie might not have been so outwardly in turmoil, but she felt very much like she might be sick at any moment. Just... she had to wait to hear the end of it. Then she could die all she wanted, and she suspected she would very much want to.

Fionn pulled their hands apart at last and she thought: here it is. This is the moment when he's going to say that we're not very much at all, and I will absolutely fall to pieces. She watched his hands wave through the air with a kind of morbid fascination. They sort of flailed around before he did the thing where he tore his hands through his hair that Aurelie had come to recognize as a sign of distress. So it was a distressing answer. So distressing that he pulled away from her and made a frustrated noise. Were they less than friends then? No he'd already said--what would he possibly be trying to articulate? Was there something worse she hadn't yet thought of?

"N-nevermind, I--you don't... it's okay if--"

Whatever she was about to say died in her mouth when he turned back to look at her with a rather intense expression that made her pulse flutter just a little. He brought his hands up and instead of finishing the thought... Kissed her. Briefly, softly, and utterly surprisingly. Aurelie didn't even have time to close her eyes, or process it fully before he'd pulled away again, looking at her with a sigh. There was a sort of shocked look on Aurelie's face for a long moment. If... was it okay, to think. Well. To take that the way she wanted to? As an answer to her question more what she wanted than what she'd expected him to say at the end of all that?

"Oh." That was... not a response either. Aurelie bit her lip, mouth suddenly dry, and tried again. "I... Er. Oh."

No, it wasn't happening. She had nothing to say to that, nothing at all. Aurelie was simply too full of a sort of effervescent giddiness that didn't translate itself into coherent thought. Not even the level of coherence she managed to achieve on a regular basis, low as that was. She let her head slump forward to his shoulder, suddenly unable to look him in the face for even a moment longer. Her hand, freed from his, came to clutch lightly at the front of his shirt.

"N-no I... I won't, er. I think I can leave that out, yes." When she looked back up, she knew her expression was ridiculous. Completely and utterly absurd. Besotted and stupid. So very, very fond.

Chimes! She'd... she'd been staring, she thought. At least it felt like she'd sat there looking at him for what was surely an eternity. Aurelie cleared her throat and looked away. She held her hand out again, a little bit more shy than she had been before. It was just, well. She really liked it. Holding his hand. Any kind of contact, really. She was such a touch-starved thing, in a broad sense, though she was unaware of the extent of it. This feeling only multiplied when it came to Fionn specifically. But twining her fingers through his was particularly pleasing. Special.

"Er... so. Ah. I'll, uhm. I'll ask her about it. If... if she can't, or won't do it I'll--I'll just bring it to the office myself. A-as a last resort. I'll think of... of some reason. Is that okay...?" Aurelie was already overwhelmed by her own ridiculous emotions. So she tried to steer the topic back to something safer than questions of the nature of their relationship, or how much she really did want to kiss him again even though she'd promised herself she would stay on task this time. Cake. Cake was good and safe. You could never go wrong with cake.

[Fionn]

Roalis 47, 2719
Between Breakfast and Lunch
A Brunnhold Garden

.

Fionn was an intelligent young man, reasonably well-read in spite of his gated condition, articulate and frequently verbose. Despite that, he could all too easily be struck dumb, both in case of speech and intellectual capacity. He hadn’t really been able to think fast enough for Aurelie’s benefit, as there were too many avenues to consider and far too much to debate inside his own head. There was no way that he could have come up with an appropriate term on the spot, especially as he hadn’t succeeded in doing so when he’d had plenty of time to contemplate in private and still hadn’t managed it. With his brain running overclocked, it was little wonder that speech had failed him, something burning out so that he hadn’t even been able to blather on as he’d done a few minutes before as he talked about left-handedness and drawing.

Feeling as trapped and frustrated as he had, kissing her had been the only option — honestly. There hadn’t been thought behind the action precisely but more of a driving instinct. The teenager had always been a little too good in following certain instincts, namely saying and doing things that felt right to him without heeding potential consequences. Furthermore, he’d always managed to be so confident when he did so, a surety about him that appeared to have an added effect.

Frankly, if he hadn’t opened his mouth to try to speak after his lips brushed against hers, he probably wouldn’t have shattered the illusion of such confidence.

She’d gone to mount a protest before he swooped in and so of course he had tried to offer some verbal reassurance, something to back up what the kiss was meant to convey. The attempt had simply fallen over before it got a chance to truly start. It was the sound of his own voice, his own idiocy that made his own certainty wobble. In that moment, kissing her had been the most natural thing in the world, the only thing but now the potential consequences fell on him all too soon and he feared what she’d do.

Would she think that he’d tried to distract her? Would she believe that the kiss had been a way of deflecting and that he hadn’t given her an answer at all?

The terror probably set in as quickly as it did because of her expression of shock. The kitchen maid looked utterly flabbergasted as if it was the last thing she’d expected. As if it was the very last thing that he should have done.

His lips twitched, the bare beginnings of a sheepish smile making a brave attempt to manifest even as worry settled in his dark gaze.

Oh shit. Had he- Should he not have-

Clock the Circle, why was she looking at him as if he’d slapped her abruptly and she was still reeling from incomprehension?

The redhead hadn’t been able to take her eyes off him since she’d asked for clarification so when she not only looked away but flopped against him, hiding her face, his heart lurched. Not a good sign, not a good sign at all. Her fingers grasped his shirt like a drowning victim seeking something to keep their head above water and Fionn was-

A terror so acute flashed through him that if he hadn’t already been sitting, his legs surely would have dropped out from under him. And maybe, maybe for a fraction of a second, there might have been despair. But then he swallowed painfully around the lump in his throat before looking down at her, finding her face tilted up towards his and the expression-

Her expression wasn’t what he’d feared at all. Something inside him unravelled and his body relaxed, the gentlest of sighs escaping him as he offered her a shy and timid smile. It warmed in tandem with his face as she kept looking at him like- He didn’t know what that expression was actually. Some sort of… admiration? Actually, he’d seen an expression like that on Niamh’s face from time to time when she got really into talking about Har-

Fuck me! But Niamh is totally moony for Moore and she’s known him for- Aura can’t feel the same way as- She doesn’t know me but… but she…

And yet, she had all the appearance of someone who was utterly infatuated. Yes, that was the term. He could recall when his sister had introduced it to him, gently suggesting that he was infatuated with Lars. That had been relatively early days for him. Achtus? Ophus? In fairness, he hadn’t known the Hessean that well at that point either so it wasn’t out of the question that-

Was he infatuated with Aura? He spent quite a bit of time thinking about her, coming up with all manner of pleasant little daydreams, some innocent and some… not so innocent. But would he- Gods, how had he not thought about what he actually felt? There was something else that he hadn’t pinned down for himself. Doing it now on the fly wasn’t the best time either but he did know that after the initial shock of realisation wore off, once he could actually name what she was feeling, the blond found that he was actually quite pleased. No, not that, or at least not quite that, no.

What Fionn felt was oddly… smug.

It was his turn to be stunned now, smiling to himself, mentally turning over his own feelings, intrigued by what her gaze inspired in him, watching her askance as he did so. If he looked at her properly, he didn’t know if he’d grin like a moony fool or burst out laughing but neither seemed appropriate when faced with, well… her face.

At last, she shifted, her hand offered shyly, inching into his view with all the caution of someone ready to snap it back at any moment. The teenager shifted as well, feeling the band in his pocket move with him and reminding him of its existence. He’d forgotten about that, hadn’t he?

His hand moved as if to grasp hers but instead of twining their fingers together, he let it hover for a moment before patting her hand placatingly, resting it on top of hers if she leg permitted it.

“Yeah, that sounds… sensible. If you can’t do it, you can’t do it. It won’t be the end of the world. I mean… I’ve thought about her and uh… thinking… it counts, right?” he questioned softly, his tone a little distant as if he wasn’t talking about Niamh. “I just mean… effort is important even if it doesn’t turn out the way you want. I just hope that the idea doesn’t make her angry, you know because it wasn’t- w-w-wasn’t what she wanted.”

Okay, he definitely wasn’t talking about his sister anymore. His words could still apply to her true enough but his heart wasn’t focused on his elder sibling, not as he said them. He cleared his throat, one hand finding the back of his neck while the other went into his pocket, lingering there as he allowed his fingers to trace over the woven materials.

“Speaking of good intentions… I uh… well. Hm. You know how you… embroidered my handkerchief and you, well you chose ivy for a reason and uh… Well. There’s this thing about ivy vines, you see,” the servant explained, looking down and to one side as he spoke so he couldn’t inadvertently catch her eye. If he caught her eye then he’d take the coward’s route, even now. “They aren’t just a nuisance, people can uh… I looked into it and th-they uh… well, you can put them to good use. Weaving for um… baskets and things.”

Alioe preserve him, why did he sound as if he was giving her a lesson on ivy vines? This was not an educational opportunity, not right now, if he could simply say what he had to by way of explanation.

“You soak them and they get soft and uh… sort of a white and uh... It isn’t the most agreeable material but- It’s not fancy, it’s really not but um... I wanted to- I thought it’d be nice-”

Fingers curled around the plaited strands and he drew it out of his pocket hesitantly. A strand of green wool, a brown shoelace and a whitened ivy vine had been intertwined to create a pleasing twisted combination of the colours, even if the materials themselves were humble and the craftsmanship was uneven. Maybe some parts were a little thicker or a little wobbly looking but it was clear that careful effort had gone into it. One end had a loop of ivy while the other had been knotted with some strands kept loose in order to tie it. It was small, the young man having made a judgment on the size of her wrist but it would fit, perhaps even a little too roomy once it had been tied.

“The ivy’s at the centre and uh… well, it all- The colours are uh… well, they should really go well with your uh… eyes and um…”

For the first time, he risked looking at her as he offered it a little shakily.

“‘Spose it goes with mine too, being brown. Not that uh- Well, erm, it’s n-n-n-not for me. It’s for you and your eyes are green.”

Oh Lady’s sake, talk about stating the obvious! What a clocking idiot! Had he just told her that his own eyes were brown as well when she was looking right at them? And to tell her that hers were green when-

For the first time, the youth realised that he’d managed to choose materials with both of their eye colours to weave around the ivy by pure happenstance. He hadn’t thought about that when he chose them. The young man had simply needed colours that complemented each other and ones he could source. Was that mortifying or did it mean something? Would she think it meant something?

Had he done it with unconscious purpose? Did it mean something to him?

[Aurelie Steerpike]

This was absolutely awful. Or wonderful, she really couldn't seem to decide which. Aurelie seemed to ping back and forth between both opinions, unable to settle for long on either one.

When her words had failed her, as they so often did, and she had dropped her head forward, Fionn had seemed to tense under her head and the gentle pressure of her hand. Her response had be insufficient, she knew it had been, there was just no helping it. What was she supposed to have said? That she wasn't sure what he meant when he kissed her, so she was choosing to believe it was what she wanted it to? That the two of them really were more than friends, and it was, perhaps, even acceptable for her to want them to be more than that in time? She couldn't have. There was just no actual way for the sentiment to leave her lips, not as plain as that. So "oh" had to do.

"Oh", and she hoped--well, she knew her expression was ridiculous. That, too, couldn't be helped. Aurelie's affections overwhelmed her and she was merely carried along by their current. Even to her, it seemed too much. The feelings and actions of a woman from some sort of ballet, not of a real person. She had tried scolding herself out of it, but to no avail. Whatever her face looked like, it couldn't have been too outrageous or out of line. After all, Fionn smiled back at her--timidly at first, although what he was afraid of she had no idea. It should have been perfectly clear that was wildly taken with him even before now. Unless he thought she made this much of a fool of herself for everyone; she most firmly did not.

The realization of both her staring and that she might burst if she kept looking at him any longer made her turn away. She needed to bring the topic back to something safer, and she had. Perhaps too safe--she had held out her hand, and he hadn't taken it again. Which was slightly agonizing, but she tried not to think on it too much. It was awfully warm out at the moment, after all. And she was the one who liked it so much, wasn't she? Right. So that was fine then, and she certainly wouldn't overanalyze it until she was convinced he hated her at all. That, she knew, would be the actions of a lunatic. Which she was not. Probably. Most likely. Maybe.

Her pride was a little ruffled when he placated her about not being able to do it before she'd even tried. While everything he said was true, Aurelie didn't promise things lightly. If she said she was going to do something, she would. He couldn't know that of course, and as he kept talking, she felt as if she had missed something. Were they still talking about his sister's birthday? They had been, or at least Aurelie had been, but... Why would Niamh be angry about cake? Lemon cake wasn't the most exciting option it was true, but Aurelie really did make a very nice one. And it was a surprise, so how could it disappoint?

"It... yes, it's, er. The thought that is important. Usually." Just where was this going? Aurelie tilted her head, not quite following the thread of conversation. Again.

Aurelie groaned a little when he mentioned the handkerchief. Did he still have it? He had the last time she'd seen him--she knew he did, he'd taken it out and she'd cried at the sight of it. Which had been hideously embarassing, all her feelings sort of oozing out of her uncontrollably that way. As touched as she was that he carried it with him, she couldn't help but be a little distressed as well, thinking of how often he could look at her absolutely terrible stitchwork. Thinking back on it now, giving him that thing had been the first step down this path of absolute foolishness. Or had that been when she'd let him tie up her hand? Or talked to him at all? It was very hard to tell now that she was on it where it had begun.

Fionn was still talking though, and not about her terrible stitchwork but about... ivy itself? Aurelie was admittedly quite fond of the stuff, as far as plants went. It was always green, even in the dead of winter. Hardy and lovely, even if she knew from chance conversations with gardening staff that it was something of a menace if not kept in check. There was some by this bench in fact--part of why she liked it. The puzzled look didn't leave her face as he continued--weaving, and soaking the vines could be... He thought it would be nice for...?

From out of his pocket Fionn produced what distinctly looked like a bracelet. A wobbly bracelet, but that was definitely what it was. Aurelie blinked at it a moment. The colors were pleasing together. The white, she thought, must have been the ivy. Then a strand of green and one of brown, all three of them woven around together. It wasn't perfect, but she thought it was rather lovely. Aurelie had been looking down at it, admiring the handiwork, when he mentioned the colors and her... her eyes? He held it out to her and she took with something like disbelief.

It was... for her? As in, he had brought it here, with the intention of... of giving it to her? Aurelie took the bracelet gingerly, as if she was afraid she would break it. Brown and green. And ivy in the middle. Like--like both of-- Once again, Aurelie was rendered dumb. She turned the bracelet through her fingers, thumb running over the weave. Her mind took note of the difference in textures between wool, ivy and lace. Cataloged it somewhere in the distant part of her mind that kept track of such things. The more prominent part of her mind was shouting, running about trying to decide if the color choices meant something. If that and the kiss from before in answer to her question meant something more or less together, or... or...

"T-this is for me? Did you--did you m-make it with the-- I... You... It..." Oh no. No, no, no--this was absolutely mortifying. Aurelie had not, she would have sworn to the Circle, been a crier at this time last year. She prided herself on it, in fact. Aurelie Steerpike did not cry, generally speaking. But here she was, in his presence and about to cry again. Her emotions were just too large for her to contain. Perhaps she had just been much better at doing it before. Or maybe it was that so many of the ones she felt right now were new, and she hadn't any idea how to handle them. They had no choice but to pour out of her in other ways.

Oh, why had she started crying? Fionn was going to think she had lost her mind. Maybe he would be right--she certainly felt like she had. Her mind and her heart both, and she given them to him without even noticing. Still, she had to say something, do something, she couldn't just sit here and look at this completely wonderful thing he had made, for her, and cry. She opened her mouth to tell him: 'I love it, it's wonderful, thank you'. Nothing came out. She just kept turning it around and around in her hands, looking from the bracelet to his face and back. Nobody had given her anything in ten years. Certainly nothing so sweet and thoughtful as a bracelet they had made, with colors meant to go with her eyes. And his, too. If he didn't want her to be absolutely taken with him, he really needed to stop doing things like this. She had no defense against them whatsoever.

At last her hands stilled, and Aurelie did the only thing left to her to do. She reached out and wrapped her arms around him, crushing him tightly as if the strength of her embrace was directly proportional to how much she appreciated the gift.

"I--it's-- You didn't have to-- Thank you," she said fiercely, still not letting go. What a terrible, wonderful thing he was. And how impossibly fond she was of him, how completely and utterly enamored. It simply wasn't fair.

[Fionn]

Roalis 47, 2719
Between Breakfast and Lunch
A Brunnhold Garden

.

The boy has framed it all wrong and he’d somehow managed to drag his sister’s birthday celebration into things and he could hear the confusion in Aurelie’s voice. She had no idea what was going on, no idea what was coming and so had no time to prepare. Did she have an inkling that she was supposed to receive a gift now? No, how the fuck could she when the most coherent sentence the boy had managed to string together had to do with why ivy vines were useful? The boy hadn’t rehearsed what he was going to say but had certainly thought about a number of possible ways this could go but he hadn’t imagined this! All the same, perhaps he should have practiced some lines anyway because maybe then he might have been able to communicate like a real person instead of a gibbering idiot.

Was it any wonder that she looked puzzled? Even when he took the bracelet out… well, how in the Lady’s name was she supposed to comprehend what it was? Oh it looked… like a bracelet, he didn’t think that she was stupid; she should be able to recognise a bracelet when she saw one, even if it was as peculiar looking as the one that Fionn had made. The incomprehension on her face wasn’t due to an inability to recognise it but rather a failure to discern why the blond was holding it out to her. If he could really be said to be holding it out to her; it was more like the bracelet was vaguely pointing in her direction.

His heart plummeted when she reached for it, the young man perceived her ginger movements as disgust. She hated it. She turned it around in her hands, gazing at it with the strangest expression on her face. The teenager tried to read it but maybe he was too anxious to do so or it wasn’t clear what she was feeling as she stuttered out a question.

Yes, the young woman had no real notion why this was happening. She didn’t realise that he’d made this for her, that it was hers and that-

She started to cry and the boy’s face crumpled.

Oh no, she really did hate it. Oh no, this wasn’t what he’d wanted! Not at all! The youth had been afraid that this would happen.

He’d known that this would happen. Now he felt like crying because what a fool he’d been! How had he deluded himself into thinking that she’d like it? How had he deluded himself into thinking that it was good enough?

The redhead just kept looking from the bracelet to him and back again, all while tears traced tracks down her cheeks, all while something utterly indecipherable played across her features. But she was crying so obviously, she was upset, wasn’t she? Sometimes people cried when they were angry but she didn’t look angry and frankly, he couldn’t imagine how such an emotion could manifest within the kitchen maid. However, his sister didn’t seem like someone who could become furious either so perhaps, the tears were the result of a fiery passion rather than morosity.

Regardless of what it was, it wasn’t positive and so he could only watch her with an expression of perfect misery while he tried to rectify the situation.

“I’m sorry, it… it isn’t much but I- Materials are h-hard to come by and I couldn’t dr-draw anything because you might get in trouble and besides, I can’t draw well enough and I’d hate to- But I thought the ivy might be… might be, uh… important and-and good,” Fionn murmured rapidly, hoping that her expression would change. He’d take resigned acceptance, a sign that the woman knew why he’d done what he had and knew that he’d done his best with what little he had. It wasn’t the reaction that he’d wanted but it was better than her blubbering away because it was so awful.

“I just wanted to be able to give you something and I know it isn’t any good- It’s pathetic really and I- Saying that I did my best doesn’t make it any better but I did try and the thought- Well, you said yourself that the thought counts but I-I-I-I-”

He swallowed hard, trying to dislodge the lump in his throat.

“You deserve better and- Oh! Huh!”

She cut him off in the midst of another, more emphatic apology, the hug initially surprising him and then forcing the air from his lungs, whooshing out as she embraced him so abruptly. And so hard! Godsbedamned, it was like she wanted to squeeze the life out of him and-

She was grateful? What the name of the Circle’s divine fucking wisdom was that all about? It wasn’t even good! And besides which, she’d been crying! She’d been crying!

“You… you like it?” he questioned incredulously, his expression exhibiting as much confused disbelief as his voice. “Aura, I- it’s not even- Sweet Lady, let me breathe!” he gasped out, moving to loosen her grasp on him, still trying to make sense of the whole situation.

When he could breathe again, the teenager would still be trying to assess her expression for some sign of how her words could be true. If he could, he’d lean away from her a bit so that he could examine her more clearly.

“You like it? Are… are-are you sure? I mean… it’s really not- If you like it then why are you crying, you moony girl? Fuck’s sake!”

There was no anger in his voice, just bewilderment and fond exasperation. A laugh escaped him, relief finding an outlet as a grin spread across his face. His heart had almost certainly stopped beating for a moment or two there but now it had resumed a healthy rhythm, pounding along giddily while he laughed breathily and fished in his trousers pocket, seeking his handkerchief this time.

He held the scrap of material out to her then immediately drew it back, holding it at a bit of a height while he attempted a stern look.

“Now, don’t go crying over the handkerchief as well, please. We’re stopping the tears, not making them worse, got it?”

Without waiting for an answer, the young man offered it for her to take before pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

Breathing was good, not having his heart ricocheting around his ribcage was also good and not having her hate his gift after all was quite a relief.

“Do you really like it? Are you… are you sure?”

[Aurelie Steerpike]

Somehow, even though she could see that her reaction had hurt Fionn, Aurelie couldn't seem to stop. She could only hope that when she crushed him in her embrace that it was at least a little bit clear that she wasn't upset, and her tears had absolutely nothing to do with not liking the bracelet.

Perhaps she shouldn't have squeezed quite so hard. Fionn did still need to breathe, generally speaking. Although maybe he didn't, because he kept using his breath to speak and she didn't want him to apologize for giving her something that made her so happy. The force of her embrace attempted to crush that feeling into him, possibly taking place of any air that might have been in his lungs. So of course Fionn protested, as happiness was generally less required by the body to function than breathing.

Aurelie did let him go then, pulling back a little sheepishly. She hadn't meant to grab him quite so enthusiastically, it had just... happened. Fionn looked very confused, which was quite reasonable of him actually. She was very well aware her tears were baffling. They baffled her too,in fact. If any person knew why Aurelie had burst into tears, the young woman in question certainly wasn't one of them. Fionn could be forgiven for thinking he needed to apologize to her, given the display, but he didn't. At all.

"I l-like it. Very much. Love it, even." Aurelie was still crying, a sort of pathetic sniffling she couldn't seem to make herself stop doing. Fionn was looking at her like she'd lost her mind. There was a high probability that he was completely right to think so--she certainly felt like she had.

"I-I don't know! It just, er, happened. M-maybe I am. Moony I mean. Uhm. It's entirely possible. I didn't think so, b-b-but. Well. " A giddy laugh escaped her, though she bit her lip to keep it from going on for too long. Fionn laughed too, and smiled, which was a relief. She hadn't meant to be so... so upsetting. Truly she hadn't. The last thing she wanted, really, was for Fionn to think that she didn’t appreciate the bracelet.

How could she articulate that this was likely the happiest any gift had made her in, well, possibly her entire life? Certainly in the last ten years. More even than the gift of the newspaper clippings about her sister, although they were not far behind, because this felt so much more personal. Time and effort had gone into making this. More, it sounded like, than had gone into the handkerchief she’d given him. She barely felt worthy of the trouble, especially not in return for something that wasn't very good in the first place. Saying all of this wouldn't help the impression that she'd gone off the deep end; if anything, it would confirm it. Wisely, Aurelie kept this to herself.

"I'll do my b-best. No promises." Aurelie's voice was very grave, though she hadn't managed to stop smiling. The sight of the handkerchief almost did make her cry again, but she managed not to somehow. Instead she took it from him and dabbed at her face. Her tears stuttered to a halt at last. She must look a wreck, she knew--it was good she had some time, because she would have to wait a bit to leave if she didn't want questions.

Oh, what was wrong with her? Had she always been so completely insensible? This had to be a new development. It was tempting to think it was Fionn's fault, for being so wonderful it knocked some screw loose in her head, but she was afraid she had only herself to blame here. Some dormant idiocy that she'd always carried around, and had just never noticed because she'd never felt… like this. For someone. Whatever it was that they were, it was something she'd never had. And it made her utterly stupid.

"I really, really do love it. Truly." Aurelie made sure to look him in the eye when she said this, her own still bright. Of course, doing so made her remember what he'd said--green and brown--and she had to look away before she cried again. Better to look at the bracelet itself. She twisted it around in her hands again, as if she still couldn't believe it had actually been given to her. She wanted to wear it right away, but felt silly saying so. She knew she'd have to get over herself eventually, however. Looking at it, it was clear she couldn't fasten it by herself--she only had the two hands after all.

"T-the colors are. They're very nice. Uhm." Lady preserve her! Was that all she could say? That they were "very nice"? They were, of course, both in sentiment and in effect. That just seemed like it was hardly enough. What was one supposed to say when they were given a gift? Aurelie had lived so much of her life in lonely servitude; she hadn't any practice at the skill.

"Y-you know, if you keep being so s-sweet to me, you'll never be rid of me." Heat rose to her face after she said it. It had been a joke, but she knew in her heart of hearts it was already too late. Did he even know what he'd done to her? The young woman had her doubts. How could he? It seemed too horribly embarrassing for her to ever say. Whether or not it was more embarrassing than anything she'd said or done so far that day was up for debate. At the very least, she hadn't the courage to do it and likely never would.

[Fionn]

Roalis 47, 2719
Between Breakfast and Lunch
A Brunnhold Garden

.

The boy found himself smiling. Timid, uncertain but smiling. Maybe when it had a chance to sink in properly he could grin like an idiot but for now, he was simply off-balance. Aurelie liked it, really liked it and that was…

Obviously it was good, it was what he had wanted, he’d wanted to make her happy and have his efforts appreciated but her response seemed wildly disproportionate for such a small and insignificant thing. What he’d done, it wasn’t worth the way she’d attempted to squeeze the life out of him and certainly not worth the ecstatic tears that had come before.

Now that he knew the root cause of her crying, he could recognise it for what it was. His sister was a crier, a little too prone to letting tears fall but then Fionn probably was as well. While the young man knew that he was sensitive, he was nowhere near as sensitive as Niamh Madden, at least based on what he’d seen while she was in his presence. Sometimes his sister cried because she was so overwhelmed with delight that it set her tear ducts off. That had certainly happened to him when he’d laughed a lot but that was just a prickling of tears, a watering of the eyes really. He hadn’t managed this.

He hadn’t thought that the kitchen maid was like this either but here was the proof. It was oddly embarrassing actually. The teenager wasn’t embarrassed on her behalf but his own. It really wasn’t that exceptional, even if the intent had been good. Honestly, he could have done a lot worse, that was probably likely but he wasn’t entirely unfamiliar with this sort of thing. It simply hadn’t mattered a great deal before if the weaving was a bit messy because it usually only went around his own wrist and the ivy vines, they’d been hard to work with as well. It was no wonder that it was imperfect really.

“I’m… I’m glad that you like it—love it. Like I said, I uh… I did my best,” he remarked, feeling as if he was still providing apologetic excuses. In all honesty, he probably was. After all, it could only be a matter of time before she admitted that she didn’t like it all that much after all. Perhaps in a minute he’d ask her again to confirm that she really liked it. Maybe if he kept asking, his relentlessness would wear her down and she’d admit that she’d been trying to be kind.

It was difficult to believe that she liked it but it was equally difficult to disbelieve it when she turned her face up towards his and her eyes — wet though they were — veritably glowed with affection and that… hint of emotion that he couldn’t quite identify but had his suspicions about.

The blond hadn’t realised that he’d called her moony, not really. Oh he’d heard the word drop from his mouth but there was no real thought behind it, the youth saying it simply because it was one of those things that you said, wasn’t it? If you did something out of the ordinary, you had to be called crazy, even though crazy was… a very different thing. It was only when she agreed and parroted ‘moony’ back at her that he winced, the cracks in his heart seeming to widen, molten heat posing through the splits.

“No, you aren’t moony. Of course you aren’t, I didn’t mean- No, I’m sorry that I said it. I shouldn’t have,” the blond whispered, the smile fading, his expression slackening and growing fixed and rigid.

He’d called Lars moony too. Called him moony and hadn’t meant it, not even after what he’d seen him do. Gods, how could it hurt like that? How could it be so sharp so suddenly and damn near steal his breath away? The young man breathed in, feeling the press of grief pressing from within his ribcage and then it eased, air exhaled shakily.

He’d live.

The unwavering delight in her smile helped him to dredge up his own display of good humour again. She’d almost cried again when he’d handed her the handkerchief, he’d seen the shimmer in her gaze, the way that the muscles around her mouth trembled as she resisted her face’s natural desire to crease in anticipation of tears. Even in spite of that, she was such a bright little thing. Adorable really.

Another one for you to ruin, yes, an inner voice remarked snidely.

Well, he was just going to ignore that because he certainly didn’t need that right now. Especially as she chose to look him right in the eye and repeat her praise. She was clearer this time, stronger in her assertion and his breath hitched, heartbeat ratcheting up as he grew shy, head dipping while his face warmed and the corners of his mouth crept up higher and higher. Well!

Suddenly they were both flustered again, a pair of awkward youths who while embarrassed in each other’s presence were strangely closer because of it. It was an experience shared and it wasn’t as uncomfortable as it might have been, Fionn realised. There was a pleasant warmth inside him, their mutual blundering along pleasing him in a way that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Maybe it was simply nice not to really know what to do, to be exploring a whole other side of relationships that he hadn’t had a chance to experience before.

Well, he’d sort of tried with Lars but there had been an awful lot of water under the bridge at that stage. It had probably been more difficult because they were hardly working with clean foundations. This had started out on different footing though and hadn’t been as violently derailed as it had been with the Hessean.

This was honestly just lovely.

If she allowed it then he’d place his hand in hers again, weaving their fingers together and regarding the interlinked digits with a bemused amazement. Something so simple and yet it seemed to make his fingers tingle, the sense of contact making that tingling sensation spread throughout him so that he hummed with it. That’s what it was like really, invigorating. Perhaps this was how it felt to have a field that you could imbue with emotions. Maybe he only felt that way because of his nexus, he didn’t know. The young man could hardly carry out a survey to find out.

Her final comment drew a chuckle from him, a low rumbling at the base of his throat, grinning as he turned his attention back to her blushing face. He moved his head so that she’d find it harder to get him out of her field of vision.

“Why ever would I want to get rid of you?” he asked, his voice light, teasing. “Oh no, I’m afraid that I won’t even be trying that. Why would I give this up? After all, it’s not every passive boy that has a girl for a sweetheart.”

The word slipped out casually, escaping with amazing ease. It was far too late that he bit down softly on his lip to keep himself from saying anything that he shouldn’t, flushing. It was his turn to look away, to try to avoid her gaze as he thought quickly.

Well, she’d wanted to know what they were and it certainly wasn’t wrong but also…

No, he hadn’t meant to say it, not like that, not as if she was some rare prize that he’d managed to attain that he could rub in the faces of others.

“I didn’t mean- It’s not like I’m bragging or- Obviously I uh… don’t want to get rid of you. Is what I meant,” the middle Madden explained hastily, fluffing his hair with his free hand.

“I suppose that you erm… can’t get rid of me either. We’re uh, haha, we’re bound together now, you could say,” he admitted, laughing in embarrassment, his voice growing breathy so that what came out next was almost lost on an exhale of air. As if he didn’t entirely want her to hear.

“I uh… might have made a matching one…”

[Aurelie Steerpike]

Something passed over Fionn's face when she made the joke about being crazy. Aurelie wondered what it was, in a dim and distant way, because she didn't think it had much to do with her. Sure she'd said it, and she'd been the target of the comment, but it just... didn't feel like the look was for her. Or the apology, either, unless he had badly misjudged her and thought she was actually upset by such a statement. That would be--well. It wasn't impossible, she supposed, for him to have misinterpreted the little dig at herself as sincere, and therefore his own statement worthy of apology.

But the look and the shaky exhale weren't for her, she could tell. Aurelie didn't press the subject.

Better to think of what was for her, for this moment here and now. This strange, awkward, lovely moment, shared between the two of them. Them and nobody else, a pleasing little secret to add to all the others. She had given him the handkerchief and he had made her this in return, and it had put such joy in her heart that she had cried--all of these things were strange. Aurelie didn't know what to do with herself here, but she was starting to think this applied to both of them.

Although she had to wonder if that was true--it didn't seem possible. Aurelie knew why she was like this, shuttered, withdrawn creature that she was at heart. She was, it had to be said, uncomfortable where emotion was involved in general no matter the shape and size of it. Even if she were to want to be close to someone--and as a general rule, she didn't--there was simply nothing inside of her worthy of attention. Or outside, either, really. Fionn just seemed so... so much more than she was, in every way. Not... Not perfect, obviously, she wasn't that stupid. Just... more.

Aurelie tried not to think about it, to follow the thread of these thoughts to their conclusion. He took her hand, and she thought it was easy enough to put away. Her heart lit up, and her nerves too. She allowed herself the possibility that not taking her hand before hadn't meant anything at all, and it was just what it was. Or something was different now that she couldn't see; either way, warmth spread through her from where their hands twined together. Warmer even than the bright Roalis sun that filtered down through the leaves, made shifting patterns on their faces.

Her sad attempt at a joke won her a chuckle. That, too, warmed her in a way distinct from the spread of blush across her face. He moved in such a way that she had little choice but to look at him--as if she had much choice to begin with. As if she wasn't always, as if drawn by some kind of magnetic force, turning to look at him whenever she could. He was pretty, of course. Aurelie wasn't sure that was something you were supposed to think about men, generally speaking, but he was and she couldn't help but think so. Sometimes it overwhelmed her. Like now, when he was holding her hand and saying he didn't want to be rid of her. Because...

...Ah. There, there that was. That kernel of her anxiety that came to grab her when she let her guard down. Aurelie was an empty thing, but she was a girl. Now that she knew Niamh just a little bit better, and Fionn as well, she knew that what the student had said to her weeks ago had just been meant to hurt her. The thing was, it had worked. She had been anxious then and was anxious now that it wasn't so much that Fionn liked her very much at all as it was that she was a woman interested and stupid enough to... to... Well, throw herself at him, really. Embarrassingly, foolishly, repeatedly. That it was an idle curiosity, and it would end, and that would be that. When he said it like that, so blithely, teasingly, something in her constricted. Aurelie's hand in his tightened for just a moment. Oh, that had hurt. She wouldn't have thought it would, but it had. Even "sweetheart" didn't take the sting out of it.

"Give it time, I'm sure you'll find a reason." He could assuredly hear her, close together as they were, but she had mumbled it without thinking. A confession from a fearful place of her heart.

Even if he hadn't really heard her, he was quick to try and reassure her that hadn't been what meant. Aurelie had her doubts, but she couldn't help but smile a little at the idea of bragging about anything to do with her at all. That, she could imagine, wouldn't go very far at all. Her smile wobbled and turned flustered when he spat out something about--about her not being able to get rid of him either, because they were bound together now.

For someone who looked like he wanted to peel off all his skin rather than name what it was they were to each other, Fionn was very good at finding the exact right words to turn her heart upside-down.

"Y-you--you made... A matching one?" Had that come out as a bit of a disbelieving squeak? Yes, it very much had. Aurelie wasn't sure she'd heard him right, as thin as the words had been. Almost not words at all, but she could have sworn... Matching? As in, they would have a pair? "D-did you really?"

Her anxiety wasn't gone, but it was easy to set aside and focus on this new information instead. To be so pleased at this idea was absolutely stupid of her, of course. The very concept invited trouble, and she couldn't help but think that if he'd meant what she was assuming that it had to be a secret on top of a secret. They'd be caught. Maybe. A bit of greenery fluttered by on an errant breeze and landed on Fionn's head. Aurelie unthinkingly reached up to remove it, but instead her hand drifted to through his hair and settled there. She should move her hand away, she thought. She didn't.

"I... I, er, yes. I, uhm. I suppose we are. B-bound... Er. Toge-- For the record, I d-don't. Uh. I obviously don't have... I would never. Uhm. Want to get rid of, uhm. You. Ah. At all." There, she'd gone and lost her senses again. She seemed to do this a lot, when they were together. Aurelie wondered if it would ever stop, although she wasn't sure if she wanted it to.

[Fionn]

Roalis 47, 2719
Between Breakfast and Lunch
A Brunnhold Garden

.

Fionn had made a mistake, he was always making mistakes. This was the most common sort, the kind that he hadn’t had a chance to see coming from a long way off. With those kinds of mistakes, he might be forewarned but he always seemed to stumble right into their path all the same, sometimes by choice, sometimes by total accident. No, this was just the usual stumbling sort where his thoughts managed to take shapes that seemed perfectly all right in his head but came out entirely wrong, atrociously wrong really. This time, it wasn’t that he had voiced something that had inadvertently manifested as something ugly, but he had reason to be ashamed of it all the same.

The inclusion of sweetheart had certainly crossed an interesting sort of line, left them in precarious territory that the youth viewed as being capable of making or breaking everything. It had been thrown out rather carelessly and what was more, it left him vulnerable and uncomfortable. However, the real problem came from how it managed to sound as he was left with it softly echoing in his ears, hearing his words anew as they came back to him faintly.

It wasn’t meant to have been a brag. He hadn’t meant to make her sound like a trophy, something he’d won that he could place before others with pride with the expectation of earning their envy and admiration. The young woman was a person, a fact or which he was well-aware and he would never have suggested- could not have reduced her to something like an object. He wouldn’t ever endorse something that negatively affected her personhood; they’d had that done enough as it was simply by being passives.

And it wasn’t some sin that he’d imagined, some meaning inferred in his words that his companion would never have seen because something shifted in her expression. It was subtle, difficult to quantify but a definite shift. It almost seemed possible to hear the girl say ‘ah’ within the confines of her head; it was a resigned exclamation that her face suggested. It hadn’t been ill-meant but she had taken it as such, had interpreted all of his motives towards her in a rather poor light and he couldn’t blame her.

It really hadn’t been meant like that, even though it had slipped out so thoughtlessly. All he had meant was that his relationship with her was such a rare thing, a precious thing, something that shouldn’t be taken for granted. It wasn’t something to be taken lightly and yet he had spoken of it in such a way. Godsdamnit, he had almost been flippant about it, which was hardly acceptable!

Whatever she murmured, he didn’t catch it, the inside of his own panicked head taking up all of his attention as he tried to think of all the things he could say that would lessen the sting of his stupid words. Even his assurances brought regrets. The teenager shouldn’t have mentioned bragging, that wasn’t a concept that he’d wanted to introduce into her head if she hadn’t already come up with herself. Clocking fool! Why couldn’t he just say the right thing? Why did he always have to sound like a bloody ersehole?

You can’t help being what you are, an inner voice quipped snidely and he smothered it. Fionn didn’t need it right now, not that he ever did. However, the last thing he needed to do was have an argument with a nasty, negative little voice in his head.

The last thing he’d said hadn’t been nasty but the servant hadn’t intended to admit it either. Yes, he’d made matching bracelets for the two of them but it wasn’t necessary that she should know it, not when things were still so new and shaky. Possibly in the future she would have spotted it on his wrist and made the connection but right now, all she’d be able to see was its rather conspicuous absence; his wrists were currently free of any adornments.

It was no wonder that her voice was a disbelieving squeak. Hard to believe that he would have done such a thing in the first place but surely she must have glanced and-

His skin was hot, too hot, attempting to melt him from the inside out. Maybe he would just go on fire, maybe that would be easier than trying to explain why he wasn’t wearing it, explanations that were sure to sound like excuses.

“I- Yeah, I did but- I don’t- You see, er…” he explained intelligently, resisting the urge to shove his hands into his pockets and fidgeting in his seat instead. He cleared his throat although nothing was lodged in it, even if his heart did feel as if it might have scaled its way upwards. It didn’t help that her fingers had found his hair, a sense of her plucking at the strands before tangling along them and it was surprising how constricting that felt.

Her hand was such a light little thing but its position on his head and her body so close to his and the adoring way that she looked up at him all made him feel terribly imprisoned. She had him captive and by the gods, he felt as if he was negotiating for his freedom when he opened his mouth, his panic belonging to someone who was trying to earn a stay of execution.

No, please don’t kill me, I honestly don’t deserve it. Don’t judge me so poorly, don’t!

“I made it—made two—but well- the other one- worse but- I didn’t know if I’d- so I left it a-a-and-and-and-”

Sweet Lady, how was that even Estuan? Alioe have mercy, he was extremely incoherent. His voice was painfully high as well, cracking grotesquely and making him wince at the odd sounds that it made. It brought back humiliating memories from puberty when his voice had started to change, sometimes sounding as if his vocal cords were being strangled, just as high and strained and unstable. The only thing strangling them today were anxieties produced by his brain.

The teenager stopped, heaved in a few deep breaths, and tried not to look at her. Actually, when turning his head slightly away didn’t seem to help, he shut his eyes altogether, scrunching them so that a mass of lines twisted in his brow.

“I didn’t know if- I was scared to give it to you so I-I-I thought I m-m-might not. Give you yours and I wasn’t going to- If you saw mine then you might- So I left it behind so I wouldn’t h-h-have to give you y-y-yours if I… if I c-c-couldn’t!” Fionn managed, face scrunching up further, cords standing out in his neck as his jaw tensed. Then just like that, it eased, the lines of tension melting away as he opened an eye cautiously, a mere slit as he tried to assess her response without making it obvious that he was doing so.

He didn’t know what he was supposed to do now. His face was probably scarlet and shining with sweat at this point, probably looking more like sunburn than a blush, he imagined. In all honesty, he didn’t want to imagine how painfully flustered and embarrassed he looked right now and while he was glad he didn’t have a mirror, his imagination was probably crueler than any true reflection would have been.

Would she laugh at him? Would she realise what a coward he was after all? Should he do something to distract her like kissing her? You probably shouldn’t kiss someone simply because you were embarrassed and wanted to divert attention away from yourself. What was more, he might inadvertently vomit his heart into her mouth. Maybe if he kissed her, she’d actually feel how alarmingly fast it was beating. And he was- Oh good Lady, she’d probably get the salty taste of sweat and her hair would probably stick to his face in the same way his own was beginning to do so rather damply.

Well, there were only two things in this world that he was absolutely certain of right now: he had succeeded in sounding like an idiot again and he couldn’t be attractive right now given what a hot mess he must be.

“So uh… yeah. A pair…” he mumbled. “I thought… it’d be… nice? I like bracelets…”

[Aurelie Steerpike]

Truthfully, she had been so startled to hear him say he'd made a pair of them that she hadn't even noticed Fionn wasn't wearing the match. She likely would have continued not to notice if he hadn't drawn attention to it, or waved it off at least. The feeling that hearing he'd made not one but two had inspired was warmer, less anxiety-driven than the feeling that came before it. Almost she wondered if she'd thought wrong, before, because that didn't make sense. You didn't, she imagined, make someone things, let along make a matching one for yourself, for someone you just were... were curious about.

But Aurelie also realized that there were some areas in which she was particularly naive, and this was one of them. Happy as she was, it didn't quite rule out the conclusion that what he really felt about her was just curiosity and nothing else. Or curiosity, and a more... a more platonic kind of fondness. Different than hers, at least. The way one might be fond of an osta, or... or... a person who didn't repeatedly try to kiss you. Some part of Aurelie knew this to be foolishness driven by a broken piece of her heart; the broken piece was the bigger one.

As his voice pitched up, Aurelie drew her hand away, not sure if it was okay to leave it there any longer. She didn't quite place it back on her lap, but rather just left it to hover in the air between them. Again something she'd said or done had seemed to make him uncomfortable. Well, uncomfortable was a mild way to put it--he seemed warm from more than the Roalis heat, his face red to the point of almost being painful to look at. Aurelie didn't look away though, just kept her eyes trained on his face and waited for him to finish speaking. Her brow creased in concern; if he keeled over before he got to the end of this, she would never forgive herself.

He looked away and closed his eyes before he finished his confession. Aurelie's heart cracked, just a little, that this had been such a trial. And she'd gone and cried about it! What must that have felt like? Oh, but she was just a great clocking fool wasn't she? Her and her foolishness.

Wasn't it just a little touching, though? Aurelie couldn't think of a single other time anyone had cared enough about what she thought of, well, anything, to be so nervous about her reaction to something. She wasn't so vain as to think it was her, specifically, that inspired such a feeling--no, surely he would be just as anxious with anyone. But it brought out a tenderness in her all the same, both fretful and endeared.

Aurelie wasn't sure what to do after that. She wanted to reassure him, somehow, but it felt... She had already misstepped, and her heart still stung a little from what he'd said before. Jumbled up with how happy she was, how much affection she felt. To tell him that he needn't have worried seemed inappropriate and dismissive; she wouldn't have wanted it to sound like her reaction was faked or just polite. One of his eyes opened, just a little. Aurelie smiled, genuinely, though she also hoped to project some sort of reassurance into it.

"It is nice," she said firmly, moving the hand she'd held up to the side of his face, hand gentle and warm. The one that was still twined with Fionn's she squeezed, lightly. "I really li--I'm very fond of--it's very nice." She'd tripped over her own tongue, not sure if she was trying to talk about him or the bracelet or the idea of a matched set.

"I'm, ah, I'm glad you did. Give it to me, I mean, er. B-because I really... I really am happy about it. Er. If that wasn't--if I haven't made that clear. Uhm." Aurelie had tried to start over again, to be more clear, more straightforward more reassuring. Instead it just seemed to feel muddier and more embarrassing. Aurelie cleared her throat and pulled her hand away from his face, though she didn't untangle the other one. The hand that had been on Fionn's face dropped to her lap and picked the bracelet back up from where it had been placed. Aurelie looked at it a moment. Easier to look at the object than his face.

A sensible little voice in the back of her head was telling her that they were being too conspicuous, and she ought to warn him as much. The sensible voice was almost assuredly right. But Aurelie wasn't listening to sensible voices, and besides--how many people saw them in the same place at the same time, who would notice such a detail? It wasn't like she was going to tell anybody. So where was the harm? It wasn't like wearing a bracelet itself was against the rules, either. It was fine. Surely.

After a minute, she looked back up, her expression caught somewhere between pleased and embarrassed. She still had the bracelet in her hand. Chimes, how was this so awkward to ask? Surely it wasn't that strange. Surely.

"A-actually, speaking of, uhm. S-speaking of liking it, and, uhm, w-wearing. Things. Would you, er. Well it would just be hard to, uhm, to tie myself, ah. So. Er. Please?" Aurelie couldn't quite look at him, so strangely gripped by awkwardness. As if it was an odd request, to want to wear the thing he'd made explicitly for such a purpose. And yet she couldn't help it; to her it felt like unforgivable presumption.

[Fionn]

Roalis 47, 2719
Between Breakfast and Lunch
A Brunnhold Garden

.

Gibbering foolish idiot, that’s what he was! What must she think of him being so ridiculously anxious over such a small gift? The boy was beside himself but he couldn’t have helped it. He had wanted it to be perfect but it hadn’t turned out that way, largely because he’d felt a pressing need to return something to her. If she had never given him the handkerchief then maybe he wouldn’t have been so keen to make something that could be deemed good enough. After all, he had never experienced the same desperate compulsion to provide his former roommate with such a token of his affections.

That’s because Lars deserved far better than this juvenile chroveshit, he pointed out to himself, shamed and shocked by the thought, largely because it wasn’t wholly wrong. It was like when he’d stolen one of his mother’s necklaces for Niamh because she deserved something as pretty as her. Fionn could never have imagined giving something as pathetic to Lars, not when the man should have been receiving precious metals; gold would have been so warm and lovely against his skin. But for Aura, he could accept that she would receive such a thing gladly and he was all right with that.

What does that say about how you regard her?

More treacherous whispers, more uncomfortable thoughts but they weren’t untrue. There was nothing wrong with liking simple things and given that it seemed to be enough for both of them, why did he have to doubt himself? It should have been enough. It was enough. He could have tried to convince himself that this was different, that things were more complicated, his feelings for them both hardly black and white but he didn’t try, simply shoved the thoughts down in his mind.

Now what did that say?

But she was genuinely thrilled with it, small and shoddily made as it was. Despite the fact that it was like something a child would make and present to a parent with pride. In spite of all his stuttering awkwardness, when he chanced a peek at her, her face was still full of warmth and gratitude, the young woman glowing with it as she smiled at him. Somehow, she was indeed pleased with it. Her hand came to rest against the side of his face and he sighed, eyes fluttering closed again briefly as he leaned into her touch. Her other hand was firmly present in his own, the squeeze steadying him somewhat, grounding him in the truth of her statement. Everything she said both aloud and with her body language pointed to genuine gratefulness and delight.

Shouldn’t he be happy that she was so easily pleased with what little he could provide for her? Well, he was. Later, he might wonder about it but right now, he felt that he could accept it gladly. The blush in his face began to recede, the heat bleeding away so that he felt a bit more comfortable in the Roalis weather. The young man was still a bit shy, that sensation hadn’t gone away but it was something shared between them, his companion no more sure of this situation than he was. Furthermore, the way she gazed at him as she fumbled her words made him wonder if they were still on the topic of the bracelet.

The blond found himself smiling, head tilting down to look at their joined hands with fondness, returning her previous squeeze to show that he understood.

“Yes, you made it clear, I’m just being a bit of a pillock — nothing new there,” he assured her, grinning broadly at his own self-deprecation. The upward curve dropped a little when she removed her hand from his face, the youth having discovered that he quite liked the contact. He hadn’t had the sensation of being cornered as he’d had before, possibly because he’d managed to admit his doubts about his gift to her. Her hand on his face had been more welcome, the gesture sweeter than when her fingers had tangled in his hair. Fingers had tangled in his hair too often for other reasons, dominance and power asserted over him as he was forced to concede to the whims of others; a hand knotted in one’s hair usually made it very difficult to get away after all. Not that she had been trying to do that, he knew that intellectually but at the time, he’d been panicked and he certainly hadn’t had a chance to think about what the gesture had intended to convey.

At least she didn’t relinquish her grasp on his hand, the youth able to appreciate the oddly pleasant sensation of having their fingers interlocked, even if the points of contact were sticky with sweat. He was almost certain that that was his fault, given that his other hand was damp from when he’d been struggling with his words, although he’d been unthinkingly rubbing it dry on the leg of his trousers. The other hand though… Well, it was warm, maybe her own hand was sweating too, but she seemed content enough in spite of the moisture. It wasn’t too bad honestly and it did soften the callouses where their palms kissed.

They were both roughened by work, the passive pair not really that different in terms of their hands. Aurelie’s were somewhat smaller than his own, but hardly more delicate. His hands were reasonably slim by virtue of his birth, the fingers long and fine. Work had hardened them and his own violent activities had added thickened knots of scar tissue to his knuckles but other than that, they weren’t dissimilar from his sister’s. He’d encountered men who had hair on the backs of their hands and encroaching on their fingers but his own were smooth. He’d had them described as a woman’s hands before and he had thought such a statement ridiculous; it had been intended to insult but there was nothing wrong with having attractive hands and they were hardly indicative of one’s sex.

The teenager had been lost in his odd little reverie, gazing at their hands with a dreaminess to his expression but he snapped back to the present as Aurelie began speaking, dragging his eyes away from the sight of their connection. He blinked at her, pale lashes fluttering in his momentary puzzlement, the urge to smack himself in the face a strong one as he realised what she wanted — what he should have anticipated.

“Good Lady, yes! Of course, I’m sorry, I should have thought- It’s not something you’re meant to just look at after all. Sorry, it’s- Of course, here, let me just-”

Fionn freed his hand from her grasp, coolness spreading across his palm as the air stirred the dampness there, finding himself rubbing it dry unthinkingly on his trouser leg while the other moved to pluck the bracelet gently from her hold. Fumbling with the excess material that formed the ties, he allowed his hands to hover above hers, his movements questioning, waiting for some indication of which wrist he should fasten it around. When he got the confirmation that he was looking for, he’d wrap it around her waiting wrist — so skinny, smaller than his own — the ties on top as he intertwined them, placing his little finger against the pale flesh so that he wouldn’t knot it too tightly. The action was carried out with the utmost concentration, great care going into it, so much so that it might be obvious that tying knots was something with which he struggled.

“There! One new bracelet exactly where it belongs,” the servant announced brightly, making no move to shift his hands away unless she pulled back. His brown eyes rose, the irises warm with the same happiness as his smile.