Who: Ari & Merri What: Coffee and a little gushing Where:The Blue Wren When: Backdated: after this Rating: Tame Status: Complete
The coffee date was equal parts chore and welcome distraction. She would feel better once she was there, Ari reminded herself -- a bit of normalcy was exactly what she needed. There were plenty of things in her life that were so far from normal that something like this was practically a necessity as a reminder of the life that had somehow imploded on her.
(Did she want it back exactly as it had been? These last few days, she couldn’t be sure of even that -- but fortunately, her companion today wasn’t the sort to ask deep soul-searching questions.)
And so she entered the comfortingly unchanged cafe her usual quarter hour late, dressed in her usual bright bardic colors, temporarily raven-black hair left to curl slightly over her shoulders and back (the color set off her pallor, but it couldn’t be helped; aristocratically pale, she would say to anyone who asked, for the role -- certainly not ill-rested or otherwise unwell). She smiled when she saw Merri waiting at a table in the corner, waving as she approached. “Oh no, I do hope you haven’t been waiting for me before ordering,” she said, noting the fact that there was no cup yet on the table. “Surely,” she teased gently, “we know each other well enough by now.”
Merri chuckled sheepishly. "Ah, no, it's not that, it's just, well..." He gestured at the open menu in front of him. "I was just having some trouble deciding on what to get. I thought about maybe getting something different than normal but..." He shrugged helplessly, hoping that she'd at least halfway believed it -- he'd chosen what to get before even walking through the door. There was never any shame in getting the usual after all!
“Ah, well then, far be it from me to rush your choice,” she said with an indulgent smile. It was easier to be her old self, she’d found, around people who didn’t know her as well. Her volatile state did not get so dreadfully in the way. She settled in her chair, eschewing her menu altogether -- she knew already what she’d order whenever the waitress came around.
Instead, she gave Merri an attentive once-over, noting the relative ease of his smile which would come, she thought, with genuine happiness and not the sort of artifice she might summon. “You’re looking good,” she commented. Better than a man whose guild was in shambles, surely. “Cheerful as always?”
“I-- ah-- no, well, not that-- yes, but more like-- well.” Merri blushed.
He was not so lacking in self-awareness to know that his mood had significantly improved since he and Ran had spent the night together, that Ran truly did like him (perhaps, maybe, even… no, he dared not to think that far ahead, not yet), and he at times did feel some guilt. Many had lost so much, even loved ones, and it felt unfair that he should be so cheery, but it was difficult not to feel it, all the same.
“I… am… cheerful… relatively, I guess?”
“Good,” she told him, no judgment inherent in her voice. “Someone ought to be. If we all stay gloomy forever, it really will become unbearable to live here. So,” she said, putting her elbows on the table and resting her chin in her hands, “will you tell me, or shall I guess? Something to do with your theatre-going friend, perhaps?”
What else to make a hopeless romantic glow in such a way, after all?
“Come now, I need some vicarious joy, darling.”
His cheeks turned a deeper shade of red. “Ah, well, um, I guess… you could say that… yes.” A small smile appeared. “We, uh, well… we’re… together, I guess, you could say?” His grin grew wider. “I still can’t believe it.”
Her smile grew, perhaps a touch less sly than it ought to have been, just a tiny bit wistful -- but the wistfulness was gone as quickly as it came, and she hoped fervently he didn’t know her face well enough to recognize it. (But wouldn't’ it be nice, a tiny voice in the back of her mind demanded, if it was this easy to be certain of what I want?)
“Congratulations are in order, then, and I am buying your coffee,” she said. Then, knowing Merri, she coaxed, “I can see you all but bursting at the seams with your desire to talk about it. You can, you know. We’re friends, aren’t we?” And never mind that she never mentioned her personal life to him -- she honestly wasn’t certain if he’d ever caught on to that fact at all.
Something seemed off about Ari, but Merri wasn’t sure if it was his imagination or not. But since it was gone as quickly as it appeared, he wondered if perhaps it was; perhaps it was merely the guilt that he should be so happy when others still were not, and may not be for months, years yet. But he was soon distracted by her request, and he blushed a little harder still.
“I-- yes, but…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Well… it’s just that she’s a very private person is all, and I do want to respect her, well, privacy. But she is just… wonderful. Truly amazing. She even helped me evacuate some civilians during the attacks, for as--” He bit his lip. Was this going into more detail than Ran would want him to? “--well, she’s not in any of the Guilds. And she’s…” He laughed shyly. “Incredible. I can’t believe she… likes me.”
Ari laughed and reached across the table to pat his arm. “I can,” she said simply. “What’s not to like? You’re a good person and rather nice to look at, too.” And it had been long enough that she could say these things to him without worrying over repercussions. “Lucky her, I’d say. Perhaps I’ll meet her sometime. But never mind,” she waved off, “I wouldn’t want to pry. Well, I would, a little, but I won’t do it. I’ll just say I’m glad you’re doing well and leave it there. And,” she added, “I think the waitress is on her way here -- think fast. What am I buying you?”
“I hope you do get to meet her, soon,” he said, his heart warmed before he stammered over his choice of beverage and food, first trying to relay them to Ari (he knew exactly what he wanted but he still struggled with relaying immediate information on the spot) and then to the waitress who stopped at their table before he could finish. Clearing his throat, he tried again. “Spinach and feta croissant and… um… regular coffee?” He gave Ari an apologetic grin as she made her order, which was quite a bit more complex than his.
Once the waitress had departed, Ari, clearly taking pity, said, “So, instead of discussing love affairs of the actual sort, shall I tell you a few backstage stories? Romulus and Juliana, that is -- speaking of love stories, the variant no one wants to live.”
Fortunately, this topic was one she could expound upon for some time without ever touching on a single sensitive subject. And Merri, bless him, would never notice anything.