Evangeline Sablier believes in unicorns. (dreamsmadeflesh) wrote in musingslogs, @ 2011-01-13 17:18:00 |
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Entry tags: | jaenelle angelline, saetan sadiablo |
Who: Evie and Papa
What: He got a letter
Where: 501, Evie’s room.
When: after the letter arrives?
Rating: L for Lulz
Evangeline was sitting on her bed with Tassle on one side, Monsieur Fat Cat on the other and propped up against a half dozen pillows anxiously turning the pages in her newest book, Never Trust a Scoundrel.
She’d been thinking a lot since her afternoon of spackling, kissing and snuggling, she was trying to wrap her head around it all, she wanted to talk to her Papa about it but before she could do that she’d need to figure them out a little. She knew that he’d be able to help her figure them out, but the last thing she wanted him to do was worry. So for now it was her secret.
Aside from the working her feelings out, she was also learning a bit about her feelings. She was starting to equate the feelings she had around Sol with the same feelings she sometimes got when her books got to the saucy parts. She’d assumed it had been a giggly feeling reserved for reading giggly books. She had been so very wrong. She was just getting to such a part in this one when she heard a knock she recognized immediately and knew that it would be followed with a door opening. He wouldn’t just walk in, but he was a master at the knock and open move.
“I’m here Papa,” she said shoving the book under her leg and smiling widely at him when he entered the room. He knew what she read, but she didn’t always feel the need to broadcast it to him. She did like to give him a break sometimes.
He was supremely thankful that she hid the book. On most days he would give it a pointed glance and her a bemused look. On the occasional afternoon he’d dare to look or ask about the ridiculous title or lack of attire on the cover. Today, given the letter he just received, he wasn’t quite in the mood for either.
Despite the repairs going on in their home, Benedict seemed to dressed as impeccably as ever. He had been working all morning with the only sign being a bit of dust on the bottom of his pant leg, a small spot that he missed when he dusted himself off before entering Evie’s room. Despite the fact that no one would disturb them, he still closed the door behind him, blocking out the noise and distraction of the people in the living room.
“Evie,” there was the slightest warning in his tone. Not quite a lecture, but this was starting out their conversation in seriousness. “If you have a moment, there’s a matter I wish to discuss with you.”
She knew that tone, and she wondered what she’d done and she hoped it didn’t have anything to do with Tassle because he’d been SO well behaved thus far. There was plenty of room for him. She sat up a bit straighter and nodded, “Sit down,” she said tucking her feet up so he could sit by her on the end of her bed.
“What’s wrong, Papa?” she asked knowing that something was definitely up.
He took his seat when she offered, hands almost reaching for the note but thinking better of it. Tell, first. Perhaps show next. “The young man that came over for New Years... You two are... friends?” Friend was, of course, a very general word. Evie was friends with everyone.
It was interesting that he’d said the young man that came over for New Years, she appreciated that he wasn’t the “young man that helped us kill a bunch of notzombies.” She nodded her head, easily, Sol was a much better topic than the possibility that they couldn’t keep Tassle. She loved talking about Sol. She loved thinking about Sol. She couldn’t help but smile, “Yes, but different kind of friends than everyone else,” a pause, “and different from Luc.” It was important to make the distinction, Luc was different on principle, but not the same as it was with Sol.
He could note that Sol had come over to fight the unsavory characters that had repeatedly tried to attack them. And he could also bring up that Sol was Luc’s brother, a relative to a man that Benedict held in highest esteem. But none of that would have helped his argument so he settled upon the simple man who had come over for the holiday. He could easily dismiss that man.
Of course he couldn’t do that when his daughter was smiling that smile of hers. And making distinctions between friends. She hadn’t done that before. “... How.... different...?” Did he even want to know?
She pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her chin there for a long moment as she tried to think of a way to describe it, she was just figuring it out herself. She hoped trying to vocalize it would help wrap her mind around it, and more than that she hoped Papa might be able to help her out too.
“Different but the same,” she said nodding. “I know Luc worries, and we can do anything and everything and I can tell him anything. And we’re so close all the time, but I don’t ever feel this way about him. There’s not...Fire. I guess. But Sol? He worries like you and Luc worry, but more than that, he won’t say it but I think sometimes he worries like I worry. We have the same looks on our faces sometimes. He grabbed me out of the street the first day we met and I didn’t kick his balls. And sometimes he smiles at me, or holds my hand and I feel...Better about it than I do other times. I was afraid that he thought I was too different, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t scare me, and he gives good hugs, and snuggles and kisses, and it’s not bad, Papa. I didn’t think it would ever be not bad. I thought I’d get sick like I did when I thought about it, but I didn’t. It felt...Good.”
He had managed to keep his temper. The grinding of his teeth only started for a second before he tightened his jaw and focused on listening. He even managed to bite back several comments about grabbing and kicking. At the mention of snuggling and kissing he became dimly aware of a noise that came, and then another, and then realized it was he who was making the gruff and angry snarls and cleared his throat to cover up his slip in control. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but quite literally his thoughts were nothing coherent, just a haze of red that when he tried to wrap his head around the idea of this man anywhere near his daughter.
Evie narrowed her eyes, because what else was she supposed to do? She wasn’t exactly immune from the temper he was displaying, she certainly had one of her own. But she hated making him upset. She understood an insult when she saw one, she wasn’t completely inept. As his temper grew, hers didn’t get much better and she sat back on her pillows and folded her arms across his chest and stared him down.
She had heard about this things over and over again, she knew he was protective. And she understood why. She tried to remember that he was always just looking out for her, but he hadn’t raised an idiot child. “Papa,” she said firmly. “If I can’t discuss these things with you then I’m left to figure them out for myself.”
“I’m trying, child.” The words somehow slipped through his clenched teeth and while some might take offense to it, Evie would know that he meant nothing demeaning or belittling by reminding her that she was his daughter. It was a bad habit to break, even if she was a woman now. “But in my day we would be having this discussion before any kissing or snuggling or things of that nature. The absolute gall of that man to ask for permission after the fact doesn’t sit well with me.”
She had no idea what he was talking about, and she blinked at him and huffed a little as she put two and two together. Part of her was a little thrilled that Sol had asked permission for...Whatever it was he asked for permission for, and the other part wished she’d had a chance to discuss it with her Father before hand.
She bit back a little bit of a chuckle, “Papa, in your day someone might have come along and offered you a barnyard animal for me,” she prodded trying to get him give her a smile. “In my day, and I don’t know about anyone else in the world. But we’re talking about me, I don’t mind that there was a little trial and error before hand, I’m glad there was. Maybe he wouldn’t have asked at all if there hadn’t been, or if he thought I didn’t want to kiss him, and he asked you and you said yes, and then we’d be wandering around trying to figure everything out from scratch.”
It did do wonders to diffuse his temper and he felt his shoulders sag first before a chuckle escaped him. “Forgive me if I think you’re worth at least a goat. Perhaps two, if I don’t tell anyone about your cooking skills.” Or lack thereof. Still, she accomplished what she set out to do and his fury was significantly dampened, so much so that when she spoke of trial and error he only glowered. No angry sounds at all.
“Trial and error comes during the courtship. That’s what courting is all about.” He made a pointed glance over to the book she had hidden when he entered. Perhaps her reading materials were giving her certain expectations about how this should go. Then again, if he thought about how things progressed in those kinds of novels, he should be happy that kissing and snuggling was all they had been doing.
He’d grind his teeth down if he kept letting his thoughts go astray and brought them back on track. “But what do you know of this man?”
She stretched her leg out and shoved his leg a little with her foot when he brought up her interesting cooking talents. Or interesting talents for starting fires while boiling water. Either way, he got jabbed for it.
“I would have run him through if he tried to court me without trial and error,” she stated simply. “I would have been offended, because you, and him don’t get to have secret meetings about who I’m courting,” because naturally she’d be the one doing the courting, “without me knowing about it. And the way I decide to know about it is with hugs and kisses.”
What did she know about Sol? Plenty. Some she’d share, others she wanted to keep to herself, like the way his eyes looked, and the way he smiled, what he looked like when he was pretending to concentrate very hard on something, and what he felt like when she healed him. “I know that I feel safe when he’s with me, and I know that he wouldn’t do anything that would hurt me. He pushes buttons that have never been pushed before, and it feels good to stretch that side of me. But he is smart enough to back off when it’s time to back off. I know that he wants to feel close to someone, but he’s just as scared as I am. And as scared as he is, I still don’t think he’ll ever turn tail and run, not from me, or Luc, or you.” Scared wasn’t the same thing as cowardly in this family, and they all knew it.
“They wouldn’t have been secretive,” replied almost indignantly. Discussions with Sol about courting would not have included much of her input, if he had his way. But she would have at least known about them.
When she spoke of Sol he listened, truly listened. He took in what little information she gave him - no doubt in his mind that she was leaving things out - and her tone as she said them. He had heard that wistful lilt in a woman’s voice before. He always knew he’d rue the day he heard it in his daughter’s. He didn’t know how accurate her assessment was. As much as he had observed Sol in his visits to their home, and they had been close observations, he didn’t quite have the insight she did. He would remedy that soon enough. Remembering the request for an interview, he pulled the note from his pocket and slipped it to her. “So you can never say we were having secret meetings.”
Evie raised her eyebrows, clearly doubting that they wouldn’t have been secretive. She supposed neither of them would ever get proof of that, but she was sure he’d at least try to keep them secret.
She took the note from him and opened it up and gave it a quick read through. And then she gave it a very slow read through. She smiled a bit and looked over every single loop in every single letter and imagined him writing it. She wondered if he’d paced first. She traced the words ‘courting your daughter’ with her fingertip lightly, and paid special attention to the way he’d written her name, and the way he’d signed his. It made her want to write him a note. A real one, with a stamp and everything.
She looked up then and handed it back to him, “I think you’ll like him, Papa. I really do.”
He slipped the note back into his pocket and the look he tossed her was one of genuine curiosity. “You really think so?” There was no one, this side of the portal of the other, who knew him like she did. The fact that she thought so boded well for Sol, and not at all for his ideas of turning the man down.
She nodded, “I really think so, he’s...” she smiled a little, “He’s...” well damn. “He’s exactly what I need, and exactly what I didn’t know was missing.” She hoped her Papa would try and remember that while he was trying to be stern and scary.
That was exactly the kind of answer he wasn’t hoping for, exactly the kind of answer he couldn't brush aside easily. Instead he sighed and pulled her close, pressing a kiss to her hair. “We’ll see,” he promised with a tone that sounded more like I’ll try. It was the best he could promise to her at that moment.