Ari ♫ ♪ ♬ (gracenotes) wrote in emillion, @ 2014-08-29 22:53:00 |
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She’d taken a few days to think it over before she’d decided that she wasn’t just being sensitive -- in a normal situation, however busy he was, Drake would have found time to eat with her, even if he was flipping through reports at the same time. So… why had he turned her down? She spent an afternoon agonizing over it, nearly too distracted to get through an audition for a small production of Cosi (she comforted herself with the idea that this show was only her third choice for the coming season), and finally decided to take the metaphorical behemoth by the horns. Drake didn’t want to come have pancakes? Well she would just bring pancakes to him, and make him tell her what was wrong. (She might have, in the past, simply let it go, allowed time to mend the rift, or not, but this was not the past, and when she didn’t have Drake around, she was unhappy, and unhappiness wasn’t something she was willing to bear any longer. She’d really had enough of it this past spring.) Decision thus made, she’d stopped at Morning Glory and departed with a rather large takeout box, because she’d seen Drake put away pancakes in the past, and wanted to have some left for herself. No one stopped her as she marked through Bahamut Hall with the box, though the smells emanating from within did get her a few curious looks. Drake’s office door wasn’t even closed, so she could simply rap on the doorframe and walk in, stating, “Pancake delivery. These are not hangover pancakes, mind you -- they may be apology pancakes, though I’m not sure why I am apologizing and thus that remains to be seen.” His first thought seeing her there, a box full of pancakes of all things in hand, was that he should have closed the door. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see her, but the really weird feeling he had gotten when he’d realized just how upset she had been over Miles’ sentence flared up as soon as she started talking. At the time, he hadn’t really been able to place the emotion, but after he’d thought about it for a day, he’d known. Jealousy. And it was a terrible feeling. If he’d had a few more days, he could have gotten over it, but… Nothing ever went the way he wanted it to. He offered her a weak smile. “Nothing to apologize for, darling, but I’ve got a bunch of paperwork, so I’m not sure I’m going to have enough time to eat with you.” “Well, you need to eat eventually, right?” she said. Utterly refusing to be politely shooed out, she walked in and set the box with its tantalizing smells right in the center of his desk. “I have nowhere else to be, so I’ll wait for you.” Seeing that he was clearly attempting to avoid her eyes, she leaned over the desk until they were all but nose to nose and said, “I’m not going away until you tell me what’s wrong. So you can eat your pancakes, or talk to me. Come now, whatever I did couldn’t possibly be so terrible, could it?” “Nothing’s wrong, Ari,” he said, keeping his eyes averted to on the piles of documents that were waiting for his signature. “And you haven’t done anything wrong. I’ve just…. been busy.” Which was true. And if he could just focus, then once he was caught up, the jealousy would be gone and he’d be able to act normally. “You’re a terrible liar,” she said a bit sadly. She wished he would talk to her, but… Making a decision, she approached and plopped herself right on top of the tallest stack of papers on his desk. “Eat your pancakes,” she said. “Then tell me you want me to leave, and I’ll go.” And she’d be sad about it once she was out of sight… assuming he managed to actually tell her to leave. He never had before, when he’d known she was serious about going. Surely this time, too… He would protest, but she was sort of sitting on his work and short of picking her up and dropping her outside, well. Drake was sort of stuck. So, he sighed and leaned back into his chair, shaking his head in amusement. “Fine, you win. I’ll have some pancakes. Will that make you happy?” He reached over and patted her leg before grabbing the box of pancakes. “It will certainly help,” she said agreeably. Then, “Oh, look, I seem to have two forks,” as she withdrew them from a pocket and handed him one. “Willing to share?” Oh, she was rather skilled at getting what she wanted. She took a small bite of the food before venturing, “I’ve... missed you these last few days.” Aspel had done her part in keeping her entertained, and there had been auditions besides, but she’d gotten accustomed to seeing Drake a few times a week and had felt his absence rather more keenly than she’d expected to. Why were feelings so… complicated? (At least he was still wearing the earring, so surely whatever he was mulling over couldn’t be completely catastrophic.) That…. wasn’t something she’d ever said to him before. Drake blinked. “I’ve missed you, too,” he told her, completely sincere. He had, but he’d heard of people doing really weird things when they were jealous. It was still a really odd way for him to be feeling, and he hadn’t wanted to worry her, but how was he supposed to explain it? Sorry I’ve been weird. I just got jealous because you clearly are attached to this guy who was stupid enough to try to rob the treasury. He couldn’t see how that would go any way but badly. No, better to keep quiet and just try to get over himself. “I’m…” she wasn’t sure whether to say sorry; after all it was his fault they hadn’t seen each other. In the end, she settled for, “always willing to make time for you. For the next time you miss me, I mean -- when I’m not making a nuisance of myself and forcing you to eat delicious, delicious pancakes.” She gave him a look from under her lashes and added, “You’re thinking very loudly. You know you can talk to me… right?” Drake stabbed at one of the pancakes and shoved it into his mouth, buying himself some time to think. Really, it was stupid. Clearly, Ari cared about Miles - that had never bothered him in the past. Over the years that they had known each other, she had had other lovers. So had he. Which meant that he knew it wasn’t that he was jealous of Miles, but something else. For the life of him, though, he couldn’t really figure out what it was. “I know,” he said after a moment. “I really have just been busy. And it seems like you’ve been dealing with some stuff, so.” If his voice sounded a little petulant, it wasn’t for lack of trying to hide it. She picked right up on it, of course, and gave him a slightly incredulous look. “This is about the drinking?” she asked. She often drank, and generally, he was just amused by her not… whatever this was. “No.” Or maybe it was. She had obviously wanted to get smashed because she was upset that someone she cared about…. Oh. Oh. “Nope,” he repeated. “Not about the drinking at all.” “So then…” she prodded. “Drakey, I’m going to keep bothering you, you know.” A pause. “I don’t like thinking you’re upset with me.” Your opinion matters more than the opinions of others, which I generally just laugh off. He shrugged awkwardly. He hadn’t thought he could feel any more ill at ease than he did, but, as usual, he was wrong. “I told you that I wasn’t upset with you. I’ve just been tired, and…” Man, he really was a terrible liar. And he knew that she really would keep bothering him until he finally told her what was wrong. Better to just get it over with now. “Iwasjealous.” “You were…” for a moment, he would be witness to a look of unfiltered shock on her face. Of all things… “Jealous?” she asked, just in case she’d heard wrong. “Of…” she tried to cast her mind around for what could possibly have prompted this reaction before a sickening feeling began to form in her stomach. What else but… “Aspel?” “Aspel?” He frowned. When had Aspel entered the conversation? He looked behind him, trying to make sure that she hadn’t just suddenly appeared in the room where he couldn’t see, but no - he and Ari were still the only ones there. “Why would I be jealous of Aspel?” “Well but… I mean… why else?” Now she was utterly bewildered; the fork she held had been forgotten halfway to her mouth, a drop of syrup now gracing the skirt of her dress. Because there was nothing in this world for Drake to be jealous about except possibly Aspel, and she’d thought he was comfortable with their unorthodox arrangement, but maybe what he actually wanted from her was… She had to swallow back panic. Drake groaned and dropped his fork into the box. “You were - are - all upset about that guy going to jail that you wanted to get seriously drunk.” Okay, now he really did sound petulant, and dear Faram if he never had to go through this again it would be too soon. “Clearly you care about him.” Maybe more than you care about me. She blinked. Then again. Her eyebrows rose nearly to her hairline. This was about Miles? “Drake,” she said, her tone slightly incredulous, “if… Merri was accused tomorrow of a crime you had no idea he had committed and sentenced to fifteen years in prison, and you never got to say good-bye or anything, how would you feel? Because that would be exactly the same.” Now wasn’t the time to be petty and say that Merri wouldn’t actually know how to commit a crime. Even though that was entirely true. But he did feel the knot that had been in his chest since he’d seen Ari’s netpost loosen a bit. “I never said it was rational,” he pouted. She could have laughed at the misunderstanding, just joked it off. She knew he would let her. But… Her hand came up to rest on his cheek and she tilted his face towards hers so that he would have to meet her eyes. “Darling,” she said, her tone quite a bit more serious than the norm, “I’ve known Miles for a decade, and he’s very dear to me but… not the way you are. I’m not -- I’m terrible at talking about these things but --” She took a deep breath, gave her head a quick shake, and finished -- “you don’t have anything to worry about on that front.” There were a few ways that he could take that, but that would be being too hopeful. Still, it was definitely reassuring, and he turned his face to kiss her palm. “Like I said,” he said lightly, “I never said it was rational. But I’m glad to know I do mean something to you.” “Something,” she repeated, the incredulity not fading but now tinged with frustration. Sometimes, she had to wonder if this man was actually intellectually challenged. “Drake,” not even Drakey, “I thought I’d made it very clear that it’s more than something.” She didn’t swallow audibly, though it was a near thing; suddenly she recalled that whole disaster with Chloe last summer and how well that had gone for Drake, and how she’d cheerily assured him she wanted nothing from him, nothing at all. And how they’d never discussed anything of the sort again. And that had worked -- she’d thought he might have gotten at least some understanding -- she’d bought him jewelry for Faram’s sake -- “Do you want to…” pause “talk...” longer pause “about this?” Drake blinked. “Talk about… what?” She couldn’t actually mean that she wanted to talk about…. Could she? “You don’t mean…” he paused “this this?” He used his hand to illustrate that he was talking about them. “I mean if you want to talk about this,” Faram help her, “then we can try to… talk.” Then, quickly, “Or not, I just thought that you seemed like… I’m just going to stop now,” she decided. “Until you tell me whether we’re talking or just stuffing our faces with pancakes or possibly engaging in calisthenics on your desk. I am open to all three options.” “I mean,” he said, slowly, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that there was something to talk about because that wasn’t something he’d ever really thought was going to happen, “we can talk. I’m just not sure what you want to talk about? I mean.” He stopped. Somehow, some way, he was just going to make this worse. And this time, he wasn’t going to have death to get him off the hook. Sometimes, his life was really hard. “It’s not that I want to -- it’s that I think you completely don’t understand.” Did she sound petulant? Probably. But he was so dense. “I don’t want you to feel jealous or -- or -- uncertain about me or --” She trailed off, then sighed. Why was she so terrible with words when it came to this one single thing? Maybe she should have just laughed off his worries and applied herself to the swiftly cooling pancakes instead. So that was it. “It’s fine, Ari. I get it.” He shrugged and picked up his fork, which had somehow dropped out of his hand while they were talking. “I know you care about me, and I’m not uncertain. We’re friends.” And I love you. And maybe he wanted a little more, but that was neither here nor there. “You don’t get it,” she said, now clearly exasperated. “At all. What am I going to do with you?” Her eyes went to the ceiling, but alas, answers were nowhere to be found. “We’re friends,” she confirmed. “We’ve always been friends. We’re not just friends. People can be more than one thing.” Ajora, why was this so hard? “I bought you jewelry!” she exploded finally. “How is that not clear?” Please, for the love of whatever you hold holy, don’t make me say it. “You didn’t say anything about it, so I thought you just thought it would be nice!” How was he supposed to know anything if she didn’t say it? He wasn’t a mind reader. She sighed heavily and held up her wrist, encircled with the bracelet he had given her -- which she barely ever removed. “When you bought this,” she said, “was it because you thought it would be nice? Did I misunderstand?” “No, but I also had told you I love you not too long before that,” he protested. “It’s a reasonable conclusion that the jewelry is because I love you.” And now he’d said it twice in as many sentences. Hadn’t he decided he wasn’t going to say it again? It had clearly made her uncomfortable the first time. “So clearly the meaning of your bracelet is different than the meaning for my earring.” “No it isn’t!” And in her defense, she only went a bit white after she realized she’d said (all but shouted) it. In the ensuing quiet, she tried not to think about her suddenly very rapid heartbeat. “I should… go.” The urge to run away was exceedingly strong. She hopped off the desk and added, “So, you should enjoy the pancakes before they’re cold and --” she backed towards the door, trying not to guess what his expression meant (mostly, he looked shell-shocked) -- “and you work too hard and I should go and I already said that.” The door. Thank Faram. The moment it was open, she turned and fled. He hadn’t had a chance to say anything, but she was gone before he’d remembered how to actually speak. Alone in his office, Drake sighed and dropped his head to his desk. They were probably going to have to talk - like, actually talk - but that would have to wait. He’d reach out to her in the morning. Right now, he just wanted to keep his head where it was and not think. That sounded like a good plan. |