Aspel Cassul: When in doubt, Aspel! (weaponry) wrote in emillion, @ 2013-07-03 23:41:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, !log, aspel cassul, drake liu |
"And so they say lord, for everything a reason, For every ending a new beginning..."
Who: Aspel & Drake
What: A meeting, and a talk.
Where: Drake’s Office – Bahamut Hall.
When: Wednesday Afternoon.
Rating: PG
Status: Complete
She had practiced the words in her head time and again. Yet, the fact of the matter had risen, then even with the meetings, the shared position, the grappling to be a force to be reckoned with - together - in the matters of the guild and council, Aspel had reacted brashly. It was a trait she regularly prayed to be over, to let her temper simply die out because it always reared its head at the most inopportune times, making her the fool of the situations in the end. The convo had been read several times over, looking at where precisely she had lost her wits and given into her emotions - a terrible, if unusual, thing - and cursing at herself for the rest of the time. Monday had been the first time she thought of it all, it had been the first instance after the emotional cascade had been shucked off, after the mead had drained from her system and after all, of her other problems - that were immediately resolvable - had been handled. The smith had huffed and groaned at herself. Monday, she still felt a bit justified in her actions, her tender parts were Drake had so abruptly, and harshly prodded still sensitive, and her feathers still ruffled. Tuesday, she was able to look at it even more objectively, reflecting on his words of caring and fondness. He was trying to help, but the problem arose was he did not know her triggers, her boundaries or her past to justify her own self-designed suffering. Not that Aspel would ever admit all of it was self-designed. Certainly, she had made her choices, but she was set so firmly in the belief that what she had done was right for her, in this place and time, there was little other way to see herself functioning than as she was right now. Wednesday morning, she had seen little to none of him over the past few days, whatever interaction they had, had, if any, consisted of brief words, little eye contact and was so quickly ended that she had actually found herself... A bit distraught at least once. Though, the mask would remain in place, and she would continue with her duties. However, Wednesday, she had finally been in a place to completely objectively look over the situation. Consider his stance, how distressing it must be for him to hear that someone he cared about repeated to him how they did not matter, when he wanted them to matter, for them to know that they mattered to others, and their well being mattered to others as well. Really, it was a bit heartbreaking to realize that she had caused him such grief. Certainly, Drake was a good man. A far better person than Aspel could ever wish to be. With that, she set out to find him this day, stopping only briefly to run a few errands before trying to specifically catch him at a time where she would, at least, guess he might have a few moments of peace in which with they could talk. "Drake," Her voice was uncharacteristically gentle with him from her normal assured and direct tone. There was no joking, and perhaps, just a bit of remorse. At least the latter was an emotion she knew well. "If I may please have a moment?" The smile was faint, fleeting really as she waited for him to respond. Honestly, she expected him to respond negatively, perhaps even as harshly as she had replied to him, but... Only time, and his response, would tell. Being angry was exhausting, and that, in and of itself, was a pretty good reminder of why he did his best to never feel that way. Anger was usually wasteful, and was only productive when something was learned from it. He doubted that coming to the realization that Aspel was callous about her own well-being and Ari's happiness was not what he was supposed to learn about this whole thing. And, if he really took the time to think about it, he knew that part of this was his fault. He didn't really know Aspel, despite being in the same guild as her for years, and now spending a great deal of their time together for Council duties. Part of it was that he simply hadn't tried to get learn anything about her, but she had always seemed rather closed off to him. So he joked with her and flirted, and hoped that Ari was seeing something that the rest of them weren't. His anger had started ebbing by Tuesday afternoon, and by Wednesday morning, he was considering seeking Aspel out, but one look at the paperwork waiting form him drove the half-formed thought from his mind. Immediately, he started sorting through papers, quickly separating them into three piles - can deal with on my own, need Aspel, why is this even here/Karras. Aside from his piles, he'd come up with a sort of reward system. For every ten documents he got through, he could take a five minute break. If he went for twenty documents, he was allowed a cookie, which he kept in his desk. He'd just finished the seventeenth piece of paperwork requiring his signature and was muttering about a rubber stamp when he heard Aspel's voice. He scrawled his signature and placed it in the done pile before looking up. The last few days he'd done a decent job of limiting his contact with Aspel, and even though he'd considered finding her today, he realized that there was still a trace of anger left at her. But they had to work together, and since she hadn't seemed any more happy with him than he had been with her, he assumed that this was business. And he had a stack of papers he needed to talk to her about anyway. "Sure," he said, keeping his voice neutral. "What's up?" There was the briefest moment of consideration given. His workspace looked over, and the pile of paperwork that had amassed there. What an unfortunate sight it was really. How any Fighter could stand this much paperwork, or be expected to do such, when they were better known for their abilities on the field and running amok seemed almost... A torture of its own regard. One they both, had admittedly signed on for, yet, it still did not feel fair in many ways. Trying to collect her nerve, Aspel wet her lips. "Are there any you require assistance with?" Her tone was caught somewhere half between the business aspects she was so accustomed towards using in the hall, and the one so clear just moments before. Something within her clung to the idea of not broaching this topic, of leaving it be, and her mouth had worked faster than her mind could to stop herself from giving in to the distraction. However, when she did fully comprehend just what she did, all the smith could manage was to simply internally curse herself for the misuse of both his, and her own, time and intention. If all she wanted to do was help him with his paperwork, he wasn't going to say no. It wasn't like there was much conversation involved outside of talking about the specifics of a document. "Sure," he told her, motioning to the need Aspel pile. "Those ones need both of our approval." Why people insisted on bringing them to him, he never knew. When he'd first started, he had thought that copies of the document had been brought to both of them, but that hadn't been the case. There had to be a way so that this wasn't so time-consuming and needlessly complicated. There was an extra chair in front of the desk and he stood up to grab it. They were supposedly equals, and no matter how mad he'd been at her - and how slightly mad he was now - he wasn't going to insult her by making her sit across from him. So he placed the chair next to his and shuffled the papers on his desk around so that she could easily get to the ones that she needed to see. He'd already put notes on pieces of sticky papers to remind himself of his thoughts when he'd been reading through them, although, admittedly, he'd only gotten through a quarter of these ones. It seemed like paperwork never ended. "Here," he said, motioning to the chair beside him. "I've got a spare pen, if you need it." "Mm." One of the pieces of paper would be turned to face her so that it could easily be read and eyes began to skim over the page, and then came a heavy sigh. "I feel we must have done something terrible before arriving here to deserve this most days." Turning the page back around she would move, to where he had directed, and sat, reaching over to grasp the first piece of paperwork, and beginning to read over it with the slightest frown. "I understand that we both must review and approve which courses should be taught, but the feedback I have yet to obtain regarding what others need, or desire has been... Quite lacking for purposes of such important decisions." Another sigh as her brows knit, eyes narrowed and nose flared in a moment of annoyance. The offer of a pen earned a brief reprieve from her own aggravation at the obscene level of bureaucracy that seemed to surround everything that they had to do. "I believe I do." A hand was turned upwards, waiting patiently for the writing utensil to be produced. Taking the pen, a slight bow of her head was offered and a murmured "Thank you." With that momentarily taken care of, a flexing of her fingers was taken before she began to move through the papers one by one, reading over every word and bit of fine print available. The pen at one point ending up in her mouth briefly before being pulled back out and an apologetic smile being offered. "My apologies." Came the low response as she shifted, leaning into to allow her penmanship to flow across the page. Pausing a moment, another piece of paperwork was reached for. "I am also sorry for how I have treated you." A deep level of shame had tightened her jaw, making her heart hurt in her chest. Since when had she come to be so upset with herself over something so simple before? A flexing of her wrist was given as eyes scanned over the page, a quick few strokes then signing off. The urge to continue, to elaborate and carry on pulled at her emotions, her mind, but perhaps, a moment to let the words settle would really be best. As soon as Aspel was seated and given a pen, he set back about his own paperwork. Aspel's commentary on courses got him to crack a smile. "I've started hunting people down," he admitted, signing a piece of paper regarding slightly changing the structure of lunches. Really? he thought, shaking his head. "Which reminds me, the squires I took out last weekend said they'd like to keep doing that. Going out." It wasn't a bad idea, if you asked him; with the recent attacks, they really needed to be getting some experience. And even though they weren't really supposed to be fighting until they'd made class or were properly squired to someone, he understood their edginess. After all, he'd been in their shoes before. "I'm willing to take them out once a month." The next few moments passed in silence, and the tension that Drake had felt since Aspel had suddenly appeared to help him with paperwork was starting to drain. He caught her bringing his pen to her mouth and smiled to himself. Her apology was unnecessary, and he shrugged. "Not a problem," he told her, moving on to the next document. He'd already surpassed twenty and owed himself a cookie, but he figured it wouldn't hurt to just keep going. There was no way he was going to forget that he was allowed another one, although, if he wasn't careful, he was going to start putting on weight. Blasted desk job. Her second apology caught him off guard, and the tension returned. This wasn't really something he wanted to discuss. Honestly, he'd been hoping that if he just slowly started acting like normal, it would all blow over and it would be done. Aspel obviously had other ideas. Silence stretched between them for a few minutes before Drake sighed. There was no way he was going to be able to ignore that. Maybe if he just brushed it off? Sometimes that worked. "It's fine," he said, keeping his eyes on the desk and trying - and not quite managing - to keep his voice normal. "As you said, it's your personal business, so I'll stay out of it." Even though I was asked, he thought bitterly. Apparently, he realized with a bit of a start, he was still a bit more angry at this than he had assumed he was. "And are they actually informing you of anything worth hearing?" While the wording wasn't exactly the kindest thing, and it did hold the faintest hint of frustration, the question was, in the end, quite honestly curious and sincere. The fluxuation of her emotions seemed a terrible thing as of late with all that was going on within the guild, within the city, and, Faram forbid, whatever personal life she had managed to wrangle together. Though, the thought of a 'personal life' seemed terribly odd. When had she ever had such privacy before? Should she not be more accustomed to others knowing full well what her actions and beliefs were? Perhaps, this really was a new segment in her life after all. Pens and things weren't unusual to find their way into her mouth, an old habit from when she smoked, something she had attempted to help use curb the urge to pick smoking once more. It seemed to assist often enough that Aspel had indeed wondered if it was more the sensation of having something to do with her mouth, than the actual act of smoking itself. Though... Once could never be too sure. Regardless, the pen was applied to a few more papers, working through them with a practiced sort of resolve. The silence between her apology and his response was uncomfortable. It made the smith want to shift in her seat, to potentially excuse herself and quite frankly, she probably would have if it weren't for all this blasted paperwork. Instead, she set to reading over and signing off on more sheets, trying to act as if this was as normal as possible. Maybe if she pretended it was normal, it would be. "I would... Disagree. After giving such some thought." There was hesitance in the words, a certain level of carefully curbed discomfort with it all. Aspel was not about to back away from this conversation, even though it left her feeling terribly panicky all of the sudden. A few more papers were signed off on, allowing a bit more time to stretch out between them. "I was quite harsh, and you did not deserve such brusque response for attempting to deliver assistance in the manner you felt would be most beneficial to all parties involved." There was the truth of the matter as far as she could see. While she did honestly believe that Drake had overstepped his bounds, after removing herself from it for a bit before going back to examine it all, she'd realized just how wrong she could have been perceived as, and on some levels, was. "I overreacted to being prodded in tender places, and you deserve apology." Really, that was the best she had. Ducking her head, Aspel's eyes narrowed as she began to read over a new document, hoping, once more, that maybe if she just acted normal, kept working at his side, he wouldn't get upset or toss her out. Maybe, just maybe, he could accept this for what it was. Aspel apologizing that she had been a bitch. Drake laughed and shook his head. Trust Aspel to get right to the heart of the matter. "Not really," he said. "No one seems to have any ideas that aren't just them telling me what they want and how they want it now." And it wasn't like it was things that they needed to talk to the Council about - the Guild was fairly lenient in letting instructors pick how many hours they taught, and Drake couldn't do a thing about squires misbehaving. Really, Drake was just starting to realize that the instructors that they had were a whiny group of who didn't know how to interact with the people they were supposed to be teaching. The pile of things he needed to sign had dwindled to nothing, so she started pulling from Aspel's pile. He hadn't signed anything prior, wanting to get her feedback on things, and now he could simply go through the pile, read over any notes Aspel might have made, and sign. Simple enough, really. Or, it would be if Aspel wasn't trying to apologize. This was something he was rapidly coming to realize he didn't want to talk about right now, or possibly ever. She had had a point: it was her affair, not his. And even if he had been asked for advice, he should have just given it and left it at that. There had been no need to keep pushing at it, despite how angry he had become. Her apparent indifference about not only Ari, but herself, had nothing to do with him. "Nothing to disagree about," he said carefully. "It's your business and it's between you and Ari. Has nothing to do with me." Somehow, that didn't seem quite truthful, but it needed to be. He had never meddled in Ari's life before, and he wasn't about to start now. "I pushed," he admitted, "and you and I are not that close, so I should have shut up." Entirely true, and after a few days, he was able to see that. "So there's no need to apologize. If anyone should be," he added, "it's me. So, I'm sorry." It seemed like all he did lately was apologize. She couldn't help the heavy sigh that escaped her lips. "Of course." Leave it to fighters to have no sense of tact or willingness to wait when they felt they needed something. Why wait when you could barrel through something? If she were more prone to the action, this would be the perfect time to roll her eyes, instead they simply dropped back down to the paperwork in front of her, the pen tip dangerously close to simply scribbling all over the paper nonsensically. Wouldn't that be a mess to explain? It might be a bit fun though. The thought was only turned over briefly, realizing it would only cause more trouble than good in the end, before being dismissed. Thankfully, even when the chaotic urges of her desires cropped up, she still managed to have a handle firmly enough on her own best interest to be able to press them aside. Aspel's brows furrowed at Drake pushing back about how there was nothing to disagree on, then the continued commentary. She would remain silent for a moment, letting him have his piece of time to get everything out, eyes turned down on the page before her. Regret had been what she'd come in here feeling, now, his approach to this was simply making her feel awful. The original thought was that she could come in here, they could slowly talk over the situation like two rational and reasonable adults, she could admit where she had fault if he would admit his or not was not the problem, and then they could move on. Now, he wasn't even allowing the recognizing of mutual fault. It seemed like he'd become so set upon this one train of thought that she was completely right in telling him to stay out of her business and there was no other point that could possibly be made. A frown tugged at the corners of her lips, a faint anger tugging at the back of her mind. It wasn't that she didn't want to get to know him better, she'd been quite enjoying what time they had been spending together. There were many topics in which they could mutually build upon each others ideas and while Drake may not have the vocabulary required, he had the good heart and better intentions that every council needed at least one of. Even after his apology, silence would stretch out. She had stopped signing papers and the frown remained on her face as she thought. "It takes two for misunderstanding." It wasn't the outcome she wanted, but it was the best point she had in her arsenal at this time. Letting silence fall again, she wetted her lips. "And it is not that I do not appreciate your input, because I do, it is quite clear your relationship with her is strong and likely that you know more about what is best for her than I." Another hesitation, a debate of the words. "I... Simply do not consider much of myself, and would loathe to cause harm when that is the last thing I desire." Her wrist rolled a bit stiffly. "If it is more harmful for me to be a part of a persons life in the long run, then I would rather endure the pain of making their entire life happy by removing myself, than making their tomorrow happy." There was a pained smile that finally rose. "I simply wish not to hurt her, and to respect her desires but sometimes I am terribly unsure how.... We... Miscommunicate often and... I find myself commonly unsure how to even handle myself when in such stitches." Eyes dropped down to the paper, glossing over it but not really reading the words. The next bit would be a bit low, struggled with, clearly. "I am trying... Even with my superb acquaintance with failure... It is the best I can do." The 'A' of her name was flowed onto the paper with a stroke before the movement stopped, the pen blotting ink at its tip. "If I am harming her, and you know so. I would rather... Not do so." He briefly considered mentioning his frustration with the lack of input they were receiving, but decided against it. This wasn't their weekly rant sessions; he wasn't quite sure what this was, really, except them doing paperwork. Which really sucked. He'd signed off on considerably more than twenty documents, and was really starting to crave that cookie. Without saying anything, he opened one of the desk drawers and pulled out a small box. He had started the week with a dozen cranberry orange cookies and quick count told him that he was down to half a dozen. Surely he hadn't had that much paperwork? "Want one?" he asked, offering the box to Aspel. If she wanted one, she could have one. It wasn't like he wasn't going to need to replace his stash in the next day or so anyway. And, really, what conversation couldn't be improved by the addition of delicious baked goods? None that Drake could think of. He very carefully kept his gaze on the paper he was reading over while Aspel spoke. By the time she lapsed into silence, any remaining traces of anger were completely gone and all he felt was a vague sense of guilt and frustration. Whatever was going on between Aspel and Ari was very firmly not his business, he reminded himself. Ari had forgiven - or, at the very least, dealt with - Aspel. That was really all that mattered to him. Ari was happy, or some approximation of it. He frowned, thinking over what Aspel had said and trying to figure out the best way to respond. His initial instinct was to try to comfort her, but that was a risky move. He didn't know her, didn't know what sort of boundaries she had, and while he usually didn't mind pushing boundaries, Aspel could hit. Hard. Awkwardly, he reached out and gave her arm a quick pat before withdrawing. "You being noble doesn't harm her," he said quietly, looking at her. "And she'd be unhappy without you in her life." From what little he gleaned from his visit with Ari, he knew this to be true. Ari didn't make exceptions from what he knew, and he was still a bit uncomfortable with the knowledge that she had made one for him. But that wasn't something he really needed to be thinking about right now. "Part of life is hurting people," he added after a moment. "It's how you deal with the aftermath that matters. Living your life trying to prevent harm isn't a bad decision, but ultimately it's that pain you feel that brings you closer, isn't it?" This, of course, was speculation and conjecture on his part. He didn't involve himself enough with people to get to that stage of a relationship, although, thinking about Ari and hurting her, even inadvertently, he knew that there was at least some truth to it. A curious brow rose at the offered cookies, generally, considering she could bake her own, Aspel didn't much partake in other baked goods. Not that they weren't better than her own sometimes, but simply because it made little sense to not make it herself if she could help it. There were enough things in the world she managed to burn, why not enjoy the few things she did create on her own? "Type?" Her eyes rose from the plain white bakery box up to him for a moment, not denying the offer, but not seeming to desire forward progression until she had the facts straight. When the type was revealed she gave a nod, a low "Ah" and carefully retrieved one from the box before placing it at the corner of the desk and breaking off a small piece of it, the crumbles lingering on his. "Thank you." Was the brief commentary before the piece was slipped into her mouth. Chewing, she pulled the next form closer with her free hand, while the first one still sat underneath her pen. There were far too many of these things. "I only wonder for how long." Her words were not combative in the least, and strangely seemed to accept the truth he offered, even if they were a bit melancholy. Something behind them tempered by experience below the surface, barely relating to what they spoke of at all. The pen began to move again, finishing her signature, ink blot and all, on the form she had paused on. "Mm, but there is a point where you attempt to minimize the pain, or counter what you have done with acts of beauty." Both of which, Aspel regularly tried to engage in. However, the matters of her success with such, were entirely different. Her tone was not fighting, or angry at all. In fact, if anything, they were a bit sad. Though, her tone might also suggest some level of experience with these endeavors. He was speaking further, a pause taken as she seemed to consider. Then a few more strokes and that one was done. "If it does not destroy." Another hard fact of life. A thought fell to the contents of the inner pocket in her jacket. Perhaps it would.... Eyes shifted up, looking at the pile of forms, and a sigh was repressed. "Though, I will give heed to every new beginning emerging from another beginnings end." It was a strange sort of truth, but it was the cut of the matter, the tear of the world. It was only after Aspel had taken one of the cookies that he realized she probably could bake better ones herself. Oh well, he thought, chewing his cookie thoughtfully. It was the thought that counted, right? Right. And if he just kept eating cookies, maybe the ridiculous amounts of paperwork would go away. He glanced at the desk and took in what was left. Not too much, fortunately. It really was easier to get through these things with help. "No problem," he said. He sighed, trying his best to keep it unnoticeable, but probably failing. "For how long what?" he asked, only a touch exasperated. He wasn't angry, but he was starting to wonder if Aspel took great pains to be obtuse. Really, he was starting to wonder if maybe Aspel taught classes on the subject. "Your nobility will never hurt her," he insisted. "It will annoy her, it will frustrate her, and it will give her mother ideas, but it won't hurt her. You not being in her life, on the other hand," he pointed out, "probably would. But then, what do I know?" He remembered the way Ari looked that night on the docks when Aspel had been hurt. He never wanted to see that expression on her face again. "I can't disagree there," he said. He tried his best to do things for others, to bring some sort of happiness into their lives, but he also knew that for every smile he caused, he also somehow caused someone some amount of pain. It was the way things were; a trade off, in some ways. No one was without pain, but pain wasn't equal. The cookie wasn't bad, and she was rather fond of orange cranberry muffins, so that certainly helped. Perhaps she would need to try her hand at a batch of these cookie types later. By the half full box, she would guess Drake may be a fan at the very least. Even if they didn't come out to her preference when she tried them, perhaps he would enjoy such. The thought was tucked away in the back of her head, along with the peach muffins she needed to attempt to make for Ari still. A weak smile rose. "As I said, I am quite adept with failure." The connection was clear in her head, with her penchent for failing those around her, her superb companionship with the state of being over the years, how could she not eventually fail Ari as well? A day would come, she just wasn't sure when, or why. Not yet at least. Then would come the waiting period, the dread of if she could handle looking the bard in the face again without feeling like the worst person in the world though... It couldn't be any worse than when. No. The thought was quickly pushed away. "Perhaps more than I." The words were easy, cool to a degree, and eyes scanned over another sheet of paper. The short responses weren't much, admittedly, she knew they weren't, but at this point... There wasn't much else she really had to say regarding the whole matter. He pushed through a few more proposals and then sighed, pushing away from the desk. His chair dragged against the floor and he winced at the sound. "Sorry," he said automatically, grinning sheepishly. One of these days, he was going to tip the chair and fall. When that happened, he had already resolved to never tell anyone; there was no way the people he knew would let him live that down. Aspel's self-deprecating attitude left Drake at a loss. There really wasn't any appropriate response to her statement because he didn't know what she considered a failure. And it was probably true that she was well acquainted with failure, but then he didn't know many people who weren't. It was another one of those facts of life: no matter what, failure in some things was unavoidable. And telling her to try not to fail Ari was like trying to tell the sky not to be blue, but maybe... "Then don't fail her in the things that matter," he said quietly. It seemed like he'd struck another nerve, although this one didn't end with Aspel telling him to mind his own business. He considered it progress. But the short response and the cool tone had him worrying that maybe he really needed to just stay out of her way all together. It wasn't like he had the best track record with not upsetting or making her angry lately, and really, that was the last thing he wanted. Deciding it was best to give her an out, he motioned to what little paperwork was left and said, "I can take care of the rest from here." If she wanted to leave, she could. If she wanted to stay, well. He had no idea what he would do except make awkward small talk and hope against hope that he didn't end up with a broken nose. The noise did cause an automatic flinch, even if she did her best to control the response, she was never quite successful. Maybe it was all the time spent in that blasted helmet, but her ears did tend to be more sensitive than not. "Do not worry." She offered easily, a slightly apologetic smile creeping up as she hoped he hadn't noticed the flinch. It would be the last thing she needed to deal with was random questioning on that, and quite frankly, she wasn't really sure if Drake was the type yet to do so, or not. "I am trying." It was the best she had, and there was no way she could school the small amount of lingering sadness that tinged the words. Though, how many more would she need to fail? To leave because they could not handle her or her wild whims? How many had she left at this point even? It was a hard number to count, and an even harder reality to bare. Perhaps, it was something that would be better to not be thought of for now. The sudden offer of him being able to handle the rest seemed to surprise her a bit, her jaw shifted, lips falling agape as if to say something, eyes shifting to the papers and a hand gesturing as if there was something more, something that was most likely to be said about the work on his desk, perhaps even some lingering desire to help. Then, the confused surprise left, her mouth closing and the two fingers which had shifted out to gesture at the work folded back into her hand. Pausing a moment, the sincerely curious question would arise. "Are you sure?" Finally, only with the words out would her gaze shift back to him. Nothing pained or upset viewable across her face, and in fact the only thing would be a slight unsureness mixed with mild surprise before eyes dipped back to the paperwork. There wasn't much left but... A low thoughtful noise slipped up before she looked at him once more. "We all are," he said softly, trying not to think about all of the people who had been hurt or worse during the recent attacks. He was supposed to be protecting people, but there really was only so much he could do. Logically, he understood that, but it didn't stop him from feeling like he'd failed each person that he hadn't been able to protect. He thought about Aspel, on the ground with her armor crushed around her leg. It had been his idea to draw them away, and she had been the one to get hurt by it. So may different kinds of failure, so many different ways he'd hurt people. It wasn't a pleasant thought. She seemed slightly caught off guard when he offered to finish the last of it on his own and he wondered if maybe he'd offended her somehow. It wouldn't surprise him in the least. He looked at the lingering paperwork, thought about sitting here, on his own, signing sheets of paper. Honestly, he preferred the company, and last week, he'd have done his best to keep Aspel here. But right now, he just wasn't sure what to do, and he was really starting to wonder if there was an accurate way to predict Aspel's responses. He doubted it. "If you want to stay and help," he said, cautious, "I won't say no. But I've kept you long enough, so if you want to cut and run, you can." "Mm." Was really all the agreement she felt she needed to give in response to his confirmation, yet a nod still accompanied it regardless. "It does seem to go faster when we approach it together, no?" A moment was taken, the question caring and gentle in its own right, perfectly sincere. A tone she rarely used if she were honest. If her and Drake were to be a team, to really be a cohesive unit, they were going to need to know each other better than they currently did. For that, she needed to let her shields down around him at least some. With that, her hands and eyes continued to work - all but forgetting the cookie left at the corner of his desk - towards completing their combined paperwork, trying to get through it with as much accuracy and efficiency as possible. Notes were jotted down from time to time, or a question posed, but none of it seemed to take terribly long before Aspel placed her signature on the final sheet they currently had to mutually review. It was a relief, a grand weight taken from her shoulders, though certainly, she probably had a pile all her own waiting in some inbox on her desk or about the halls. Wasn't that always the way. A soft smile was offered over to him. "I do believe that finishes it." Shifting, a hand palmed the envelop out of the inside of her jacket, and carefully standing, in an attempts to not push the chair back to fast or harshly, she stepped away from the desk. One hand grasped the back of the chair, while the other, palming the folded envelop extended out to him. "Fine work Councilman Liu." Her tone jovial, teasing really as the smith waiting for him to shake her hand, even if it was half in jest. When shook, she grasped his hand firmly, releasing the folded envelop into his hand. A flash of consideration would shoot over her face, dismissing the smile and Aspel leaned in, placing a soft kiss against his cheek. "You are a good man, Drake." A hesitation cropped up as she finally realized that she hadn't moved back. What was she... "Thank you." A squeeze of his hand would be given before she would move to release it, picking up the chair to put back around his desk, and make her way to the door. The only other moment a pause would be given would be as a hand raised, placing her palm against the doorframe, a strange swirl of things rising in her head that she somehow wished to give credit to. The smiths head would half turn, eyes falling down as she regarded the other side of the doorframe she stood in. "I find that I..." What was she trying to say? Why weren't the words coming to her? "quite enjoy our time." Fingers curled on the doorframe for the briefest moment before releasing, the hand falling back behind her as she moved to exit the room. Her next words a bit low, tender before she left. "Good day." Aspel's lips against his cheek and her suddenly close proximity were both welcome and confusing. Welcome because he wasn't blind and she was a very good looking woman, confusing because she had never done anything like this before. They'd always had a respectable distance between them most of the time unless it couldn't be helped. He had to concentrate on her voice to hear what she was saying, which really didn't help matters. She was at the door by the time he realized she had given him something, and he caught the very end of her statement and offered her a small, fond smile. "I enjoy it, too," he said, voice quiet. "Good day, Aspel." After the door had closed and he was alone again, he fell back into his seat and scrubbed a hand over his face. Apparently, he hadn't been paying attention because rather than his hand over his skin, it was the envelope. Curious, he opened the envelope to find two certificates for The Snuggly Duckling and a note with Aspel's handwriting. I don't even know what's going on anymore, he thought, shaking his head. But he was smiling, and his mood was better than it had been in a few days. He'd have to remember to thank her, and maybe invite her to dinner. After all, it was only fair. |