Aspel Cassul: When in doubt, Aspel! (weaponry) wrote in emillion, @ 2013-09-17 11:26:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, !log, arielle chiaro, aspel cassul |
There's something inside you, It's hard to explain....
Who: Aspel & Ari
What: Muffins and exits.
Where: Aspel’s apartment.
When: Morning.
Rating: PG?
Status: COMPLETE!
The night before had been a disaster. There was no rhyme or reason as to why, but it had ended miserably all the same. Not that it was the end of all of Ivalice, but it… Felt like it on some level. What little sleep the smith could obtain had been restful thanks to Ari, but Aspel found herself laying awake after the other woman had fallen asleep for much longer than she really cared at the same time. Finally, before dawn had really broken, but the sun was starting to vaguely creep in vaguely through the curtains, Aspel finally removed herself from bed as laying there no longer felt as if it would no benefit other than assisting in driving her mad. With an anxiety that was beginning to transform into nothing more than sorrow, a wallowing of sorts, Aspel removed herself from the bed, and silently padded into the kitchen. Her posture defeated as eyes swept through the poorly illuminated apartment. No light would be turned on until in the kitchen, and then - slowly - Aspel began going through the motions. Originally, the idea had been to share something Ari could enjoy with her. A pleasant treat to celebrate a mutual friend finally becoming well again. However, now the muffins simply felt more like an apology for something she’d done wrong. Maybe if they were good enough, the bard would smile and seem less unsettled. Perhaps if Aspel could lie well enough, everything would be back to normal. Though……. Could this ever be ‘normal’ again? The uncomfortable thoughts, actions, and feelings of the night before stuck with her, haunting her head and heart. Just what was she doing anymore? Why had….? How could…? Why did…? What was... Nothing seemed to make any sense. Thoughts were batted away like pesky mosquitoes with each step in the baking process she took. This would be a victory, this would be okay, the muffins would be fine. They would be well received and…. And if this was the last time she ever saw Ari in her apartment again, then.... That would be it. The end. But at least she couldn’t say she didn’t tried… If it was over, it was over. That was all she could allow herself to feel. After everything, after all of the misunderstandings, fighting and keeping each other amused with their company, if Ari wanted to leave then who was Aspel to ask her to stay? It seemed like that was as far as her thoughts would get before nearly all of the tasks had been finished. Peach muffins set to cool, coffee brewing, apricot jam and butter set out on the table along with some various sliced fruit, and cheeses. It was amazing what one could get done on autopilot. A shoulder shrugged, eyes scanning over the tasks she barely remembered completing but obviously - by the results of the table set up and smells emanating from the kitchen - she clearly had. Sighing, Aspel shifted, and moved to put the kettle on the stove to heat water for her tea. At least one thing would go right this morning. She’d be certain to see to that. It was, Ari thought as she lay alone in bed, another pattern, equal parts comforting and discomfiting in its familiarity. Her, alone in bed in this now quite familiar room, the curtains drawn, the smell of coffee carrying down the hall. She had not lied about at least one thing -- she really had slept very little over the weekend, and the day prior had been spent in a large part unconscious. Accordingly, today, her internal clock entirely thrown off, she had awakened shortly after Aspel had, and spent some time listening, eyes closed, as the other woman moved about the bedroom and then towards the kitchen. She considered rising, or at least giving some sign of life, but in the end, she remained quiet, thinking, for some time after she was alone. She felt fairly awful. Which, she considered, was an issue in and of itself, of course, but not entirely unexpected. They had discussed nothing the night prior, she unwilling to explain herself, Aspel seemingly unwilling to pry. She wondered crossly if Aspel had felt this truly miserable disquiet after each instance of her telling Ari, in one way or another, not now; somehow she doubted it. The night having passed in snatches of unremembered dreams, her disposition was less than sunny, but she did at least feel marginally more settled than she had the night prior. And really incredibly foolish for reasons she was unwilling to explore, but that was neither here nor there. First order of business, she told herself sternly: stop acting as though something monumental had occurred. A case of poor timing, surely. That was all it was. The night now behind her, she felt much less like running out the door, which, all things considered, was rather fortunate. In retrospect, it would have been a very poor decision. She did have a tendency to choose rashly, and considered herself rather fortunate in the restraint she had shown in not doing so -- such an ending would have been… Well. Ill-suited, at the very least. The rest didn’t matter right now. So then -- up and out of bed, fingers combed through hair until it was in some semblance of order, across the damnable rug, out into the living room, and through to the kitchen, where it appeared Aspel had prepared something of a feast. Wasn’t it a weekday? Another pang of utterly unnecessary guilt was pushed away, though her smile might have been ever so slightly apologetic as she stopped near the table and said, “Good morning. I am out of bed and we are yet in single digits; I hope that you are very proud of me.” When in doubt, an attempt at normalcy seemed altogether best. Perhaps, if she was very lucky, Aspel would simply let all of this go, and then she would have the time she needed to sort through things before they saw each other again. Ari’s movements were hollow echoes in the noises of Aspel’s background. It was strange how such could bring both a strange unpleasant jolt - perhaps even a slight pain - along with a strange anxious enjoyment, a nervousness of sorts. However, it wasn’t until Ari entered the room and actually spoke that the smith would finally pull her attention away from whatever miniscule detail she was pretending to have held it before. “Ah, and to think I had cleared time enough to allow you to rest.” A tender smile was offered, the slightly hint of jest in her voice, and Aspel hoped the mild pain that had embedded itself into her chest would be hidden well enough to not offset the mood. After all, her years with The Guard had taught her to lie quite well. “I pray you do not mind being a guinea pig to my latest baking experiment.” A absent wave of the smith’s hand towards the resting muffins would be offered. “The coffee should be finished percolating by the time they are done cooling. If you wish to partake in another aspect before either finishes, by all means, do help yourself.” With that a glance was cast at the teapot. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t be as convenient as she would have wished, of course it coming to a boil right then would just be far too easy. Though, she could still busy herself with collecting some of the smaller things together for their tea and coffee. Which at this moment, seemed the best thing she could possibly do. Ari barely managed to hold back the automatic, joking apology about her tendency to accidentally ruin plans -- not the right thing to say -- and instead said, “Well, in which case, I suppose I’ll take the unexpected opportunity to linger over breakfast. Your experiment,” she added, wandering over to the cooling rack to get a closer look, “smells delicious.” She thought she smelled peaches. Were these peach muffins? Aspel never forgot anything, it seemed. Another moment of discomfort, shoved quickly away. “I’ll wait for you to finish,” she said easily, not letting it show. “May I help with anything?” She knew her way around the kitchen well enough by now, which was another thing on the very long list of items to think about sometime much later. It seemed they were both in the business of pretending nothing was wrong this morning, and, she could get behind the idea -- and speaking of, it was barely a few steps to where Aspel stood at the counter. She leaned in, brushed a light kiss against the other woman’s cheek, her expression and stance relaxed. She almost said something, then, nearly offered an apology, but clamped down on the urge. Something amusing, instead, and utterly unimportant, spoken with an amused look as she leaned against the counter, breathed in the scent of muffins and coffee: “You have read me correctly in assuming that I would be unable to resist fresh-baked muffins -- you may experiment on me at will, and I suppose I shall simply have to trust that your intentions are not too nefarious.” “Ah.” There was the briefest moment of consideration before a slight nod was given. “As you wish.” It wasn’t as if Aspel was about to kick Ari out either way. It was the other woman’s decision when she left for the most part, and admittedly, it would give the smith a bit of time to cobble together her own thoughts and feelings after sleep. Even if they all felt terribly scattered and fleeting even in this instance. “They should be ready in a few moments. I believe they are nearly cooled.” To think the muffins she’d spent a significant time spazzing out over just a week before were the least of her worries in this instance was….. Laughable, in it’s own strange regard. Perhaps this could be taken as a lesson that would serve her well to not focus on such things in the future but….. Somehow Aspel doubted she’d really learn from this mistake. “Most things are in hand.” Though, the thought occurred to her then that while the smith had taken care to set all possible food things out, she’d not managed to retrieve the appropriate plates. A low, brief, but restrained laugh slipped out. “Though, it would appear in my haste this morn that I have forgotten the most important piece of kitchenware for partaking in breakfast.” A nod to the cabinets was given. “If you would care to obtain our plates?” Though… The kiss, even as mild as it was, came as a sort of surprise. While her own reaction would hold a bit of hesitation, Aspel still reached out, grasping at Ari’s hand and offering it a brief squeeze if the other woman would so allow. “I suspect I must assure to hide the muffin with the lockpick in it from you then, no?” Really, what else was she supposed to say? It felt good to laugh. Ari opened the cabinet to withdraw the plates, glad that they could laugh as though they weren’t both feeling rather awkward this morning. For all she knew, perhaps she was the only one, but… She set out the plates on the table as she said, “How very sad; I was certain we were to eat directly from the table, but I suppose if you insist on being civilized about it…” The table setting thus complete, she gave some consideration to sneaking a bite or two before everything was set, but in the end she returned to the counter instead. When her hand was taken and squeezed she felt… perhaps a bit relieved. She was certain Aspel had to be frustrated with her at the very least. She was frustrated with herself. “I suppose as long as you baked a lockpick into one of them for me, I can hardly complain if it takes me awhile to find it. I am resourceful.” She didn’t move away quite yet, again fought back the urge to apologize. What she said instead, though, when she spoke, was, “Did you sleep well?” Or at all, really. Her own night had hardly been restful; she did not doubt that she would fall back into bed for a brief while once she returned home. Possibly after berating herself for her actions the night prior, which were now beginning to seem even to her to be a bit… excessive. “Pity that, I am certain such could be rectified if you so desired.” A thought of cleaning up a mess of muffin crumbs wasn’t really…… All that appealing, yet at the same time, it probably was far less of a mess than the flour she’d seemed to magically get in nearly every nook and cranny of the kitchen just the week before while trying to figure out how to make these blasted muffins specifically. “Oh, did you desire a lockpick? Ah, well. I suppose I can do something about that as well.” The faintest hint of a smirk pulled at the corner of her lips. It felt a little unnatural in a sense, but at the same time, it almost felt like it couldn’t be helped. Ari just….. Seemed to have that effect on her in the end. The question was a bit tougher though, and something akin to an apologetic smile crept up. “Ah.” A moment of hesitation and fingers rose to comb through her hair, a memory jarring her and Aspel absently hoped that there was no residual flour on her hand as she surely did not require a repeat of white streaks in her hair in front of the other woman as she had accomplished in front of Mag the week before. “Well enough.” It was the best answer she had in the moment really. Aspel couldn’t say she had slept well at all really, but… She could and would function on what she had managed to obtain. “Yourself?” A glance would be given to the muffins. Surely they would be ready soon. The easy joking was a balm on her frayed emotions. Everything was perfectly normal, they were all right, and the blasted rug probably didn’t have to mean anything unless she wanted it to mean something (and she didn’t), and there was breakfast waiting. Aspel’s small, amused smirk when prodded about the lockpick was a pleasure to see. The smile turned apologetic, though, as her question was answered, and the apology came after all: “I’m sorry. Really.” And she was sorry; she had never wanted or intended it to go in such a way. “Generally, I’ve been known to help you sleep, not the other way around.” She did not answer the question about her own rest; the fact that she was up this early was likely to be answer enough. “I shall have to endeavor to improve.” The most roundabout way of saying she did intend to come back. She did intend it. And as she stood there, she knew the easy choice was to let it lie at that and the difficult one to attempt an explanation. She chose the steeper path despite herself: “I can’t” won’t “truly explain but… I hope you do not think ill of me.” And that sounded, even to her own ears, like a farewell, which meant it was the exact wrong thing to say. Where was her eloquence? “There has been much on my mind.” True, if not likely to be fully understood as it was meant. “I am sorry my many thoughts had to manifest in… such a way.” She bit her lip a moment unconsciously, struggling against the unfamiliar feeling of not knowing what to say. She finally settled on something that was, perhaps, closest to the truth yet: “I believe I may have been… somewhat foolish, perhaps.” Aspel blinked at the apology, unsure where it suddenly had come from after all of their…. Careful avoiding of the topic for the most part. She'd thought that perhaps they'd gloss over this and move on with their lives. However that manifested in the end…. Was this the end? The smith almost, almost wanted to ask. If that was what the apology was about, if that was what was going on here, where their…. Relations… Were headed, it was fine, things would be fine. The world would move on. At least, that was what Aspel kept repeating in her own head. The reality was that the world would go on no matter what happened, even if her world might be rather…… 'painfully' complicated for a bit. "It is no concern." Aspel really didn't want it to be one either. This conversation seemed… Complicated. Not just for the topic they were addressing, but for what it could lead into. What it made her insides twist and turn about themselves like and that….. Wasn't an area Aspel was sure she wanted to go. Then came the other part of the….. Speech and sudden the smith felt jarred. Felt like her ground was shaking and her footing was unsure all over again. When was the last time she'd felt like that? As much as she'd tried to school herself, to rely on the years of lying, and misleading The Guard had taught her, Aspel couldn't help it when a brief flash of uncertainty shot across her face about the possible improvement. "I have no worries." And she realized instantly, that she may very well sound like she was repeating herself, and that her words would counter her stance. What was she doing? Could they be done now? No. It would appear not. Her entire being felt unsettled, ill at ease with the entire talk, but Ari was continuing. Ari was…… Trying. When hit with that notion, and the realization of how often they really broached such things, the discomfort - to some level - dissipated. A notion struck to inturrupt the conversation, to derail this train of thought with a joke, to add in a bit of humor and forget all about the problem they'd encountered the night before to….. Forget it'd even happened and try to ignore her own strange, and somewhat insurmountable in this moment, thoughts. However, instead, Aspel would shift in such a manner to be able to watch the other woman as Ari seemed to…. stumble? Well, stumble for Ari that was, through her thought and words. "I am sorry for whatever part I provoked." It was all Aspel had really. In an instance like this, what else could she say? A thought struck, and a nervous energy set into her bones. The smith shifted again, moving to lean forward, pausing part way in like a thought had struck her motionless, but even so, it was only allowed to last but a second before a hand rose, and Aspel dipped the rest of the way in, in attempt to cup the side of Ari's face while placing a kiss against her lips. It felt….. Strangely… Bordering on desperate, though at the same time, it wasn't quite there. All her emotions seemed to hang on uncertainty and if that was the case, why not go with what could work? What could possibly reassure them both… With what might make them happy. Either Aspel had decided to entirely remove herself from the discussion -- unlikely, by the look on her face -- or perhaps she, like Ari, just wanted the debacle of the previous night put behind them. Either way, she seemed more than willing to forgive any perceived slight, though Ari did not really think she saw the situation as one where forgiveness was necessary. So Ari smiled slightly, shrugged her shoulders, and said, “We are both very apologetic this morning. How unlike us.” And she might have left it there -- her piece was said, as much as it could be, and any further discussion would certainly lead to additional awkwardness -- but it seemed Aspel was not quite done with the discussion, even if her response did not come in the form of words. The hesitation gave her just enough time for thoughts to flash lightning-quick through her mind -- was this really a good idea, nothing at all was resolved, she was still so uncertain, there seemed to be so many things unsaid that she could fill a book with them -- but then Aspel’s lips were on hers, and there was no more time to think about it, about what unspoken agreement they were coming to, exactly (none at all, the panicked voice in the back of her mind insisted, none at all). She returned the kiss, leaning in slightly, not quite close enough for their bodies to brush. Her hand came up to rest on the other woman’s where it cupped her cheek. For a moment, she simply enjoyed. The kettle whistled, a shrill reminder, and she pulled back. “Breakfast,” she said decisively, because right now, that was easy, safe, and far less confusing than the alternatives she could think of. “Indeed.” Was all Aspel could add to the brief and - what she assumed was a - joking remark. The kiss was… Perhaps not as magical a fix all as the smith had hoped, but at the same time… Would anything be? Shifting, she moved to best compliment Ari’s lean in, her other free hand falling down to rest against the bard’s hip, and a slight deepening of the kiss taken, not a far push, but just a little. Something to say that things would be okay, that this was nothing, that it was not a problem and it would pass by, just like every other problem they had incurred so far. However, if Aspel really believe that or not, she still couldn’t decide. Though, it would be broken with the whistle of the kettle and a low “Mm.” was earned. With a stroke of her thumb over Ari’s cheek, a soft kiss was given to the other woman’s forehead before the smith stepped away, gesturing towards the coffee pot while she retrieved the water. “The coffee should be ready as well.” Turning off the burner, it was pushed aside and Aspel began to gather the muffins onto a plate as well. “I was uncertain if you wished for jam or not, so my apologies for the contents of the table.” With that, water was poured for the tea leaves to steep, and the muffins were brought over, being placed on the table. “I do hope you shall enjoy these.” I made them just for you. “The table,” Ari said, “looks amazing. Which is how the muffins smell, as I believe I’ve mentioned at least once.” The unspoken words: don’t worry. Not that she imagined Aspel would worry about impressing her, necessarily -- why would she? -- but even so. She stepped away in turn to pour herself a cup of coffee, added sugar, then took a seat at the table and began to fill her plate, taking two of the muffins. “But, of course, it is the taste that matters most. Let’s see.” She took her time with the muffin, breaking off a chunk to nibble at it, letting the silence stretch out for some time before she allowed a smile to bloom across her features. “As expected,” she said, licking the crumbs from her lips, “your experiment has been successful; if I had access to these on a regular basis I would have to be rolled through doorways, I imagine. Which is to say, please stop me from eating the entire plate, because I might do so, otherwise.” She broke off another chunk of her muffin and popped it into her mouth, thoroughly enjoying the mix of flavors. Why had she never thought that there might be such a thing as peach muffins? And just like that, she seemed to find what had been lacking previously -- her calm and her equilibrium. The rug was temporarily out of mind as she sipped at her coffee and polished off the first muffin, ready to tackle the second. Her mood was vastly improved. Perhaps things were going to be all right, after all. |