[The professor recalls the older woman who had sat next to Gale at the beginning of the semester. She can only take his word for it when he shows certainty of her discretion since it's obvious that they're this far into the year and no one has shown even a hint of suspicion about their connection outside of campus.]
A thank you is in order so Thank you.
I'm not sure where to go from here.
[Before she can delete that respone, a wayword press of the 'send' button dashes that notion so now it's too late.]
It might be better if we just go on as we've been doing.
[He exhales under his breath as her messages come through, pressing his lips together into a frown.]
You have nothing to thank me for. It was common decency. The last thing I would want would be for this to make your time here at the university uncomfortable.
[Of course, it's done that for both of them, but neither of them has sought to make it so. They are managing it the best they can, he imagines. It's hardly as though any of this was intentional.
He pauses before sending a second message, feeling something stick at the back of his throat.]
I'm not sure where to go from here, either.
I can say I certainly prefer speaking to not, though I understand the challenges that may present, given we had initially intended on never seeing one another again. That, of course, is no longer an option.
[He doesn't say so, but that part... that, he's grateful for.]
[Amelia wonders if this would be any easier if he was less gracious and understanding and if it would be better if he was an obviously terrible individual to justify spurning him completely. But these were the cards she's been dealt with and wishing for something worse, was quite frankly, foolish and idiotic of her.
She didn't want to be on bad terms with him. As they were now, however, other possibilities didn't feel realistic. ]
Since our departments are sharing a building, at least it isn't abnormal for us to be talking.
That is, if that's what you're going for.
[More talking, that is. The professor has a feeling that at the very least, Dr. Dekarios really did like her company in a platonic sense.]
[More talking at the very least. Before the semester had started, some part of him had hoped that they might spend more time together, that things might develop beyond that one night— but now that they worked together, that wasn't an option for a number of reasons. It was hardly forbidden, but as a new addition to the staff trying to make a name for herself, it might cause her reputation to suffer, and he had learned the hard way that romance and his professional life were a poor combination, the aftershocks of which he was still feeling keenly to this day.
Besides. Neither of them had been looking for anything of the sort. They'd been clear enough on that point, hadn't they? He'd made a mistake, perhaps, in seeking more, letting himself become briefly infatuated, but— this was better. This nipped that ill-conceived venture in the bud, if nothing else.
Still, they could be friends. They had more in common than he did with many of his other colleagues. That would hardly be out of line, would it?]
I'd quite enjoy that, if you're amenable. We're colleagues. There's nothing to stop us from being friends.
[Some people might say such a thing and mean it as a dismissal, a promise to never follow through on, but not him.]
We have a great deal to talk about, if we so choose.
She bites her lower lip, closes her eyes, and leans her forehead on her screen. There's a relieved, but conflicted sensation at this resolution they've reached. Making a new friend at work is unexpected (but not unwanted, all context leading up to it aside). Lord knows she has very few true companions and how difficult it was to make that connection as an adult.
Amelia starts to type again, but then deletes the characters, continuing to gauge the situation and finally pinpointing the exact emotion that has stalked her throughout this entire ordeal.
Guilt.
In her attempt at temporary escapism, all she did was create more guilt when turning to a stranger and falling into his arms. And now, Gale, no longer a stranger, continues to extend utter kindness and understanding. It makes her gut twist.
Texting back should be easier, but instead, she stands up and moves towards where Dr. Dekarios is sitting and stops to lean against a shelf, one hand clutching her opposite arm.]
[He looks up when he hears her approach, and just for a moment, feels his breath hitch in his throat.
No— none of that. Not only was the prospect of anything more than friendship no longer on the table, it never should have been. It wasn't what she had been in search of that night, certainly, and not something he was ready to seriously consider again— if ever, after what he had been through. It had been a moment of weakness, or a series of such moments, reaching out to her again after she had left his apartment.
Was he fooling himself, thinking that even friendship could be achievable, after all was said and done? Perhaps. It may have been a foolish thought, indeed, but after all was said and done, he could use a friend. She probably could, too.
He would have to separate the memory of "Eva" from who Amelia actually was. The night they'd shared was something he would hold dear, because there were moments that had made it clear it was more to both of them than a way to pass the time— but that something more didn't necessarily have anything to do with the other person, and more with what each of them needed.
He chooses his words with care as he offers a cautious but genuine smile.]
You've gone above and beyond so far, as far as I'm concerned. There are friends I've known longer who've not taken such an interest in my taking care of myself.
[He slips his phone back into his pocket so that he can give her his full attention, turning in his seat to angle himself towards her.]
As it so happens, I make an excellent friend. I may have met Eva, but I've yet to get to know Amelia— and I would very much like to. She seems to have very good taste in both books and breakfast sandwiches.
But when Gale continues to extend his hand in friendship, the desire to shy away isn't as strong as before. She looks at him directly and purses her lips before looking at her feet again. There is a ghost of a smile, faint thing that it is.]
... We can talk about books. It's an easy start for both Amelia and Eva.
[She might not make a good friend, but no one can say that Amelia never tries.
Amelia moves closer to Gale and holds out her hand.]
[He stands to meet her as she approaches, his smile softening— though he does not know what her life may have been before coming to this place, he does know what it is to be lonely, how difficult it can be to let people in regardless of one's reason for being guarded. They had recognized that in one another, and her recognizes it again now, even as he reaches to take her hand and give it a firm but gentle shake.
If his heart leaps into his throat for a moment when his fingers close around hers, it's entirely by coincidence.]
Friends.
[It is luck and luck alone that allows him to then catch a glimpse of movement in his peripheral vision— someone coming through the front doors they are still in plain view of, the movement just distracting enough to draw his full attention for a single beat.
Immediately, his heart abandons his throat and plummets to somewhere beneath even his stomach when he spots the unmistakable figure of Dr. Manx, well-dressed and severe-looking as she has ever been. His grip on Amelia's hand tightens as he feels his fight-or-flight response triggering, and he quickly begins to move towards the nearest aisle, leaving his bag behind and pulling the literature professor along with him in a hurry.]
[Amelia has little time to process and linger in the warmth of his hand around hers. Tonal whiplash takes over and she's pulled along with Dr. Dekarios.]
Whatโ
[Her voice was a little too audible and she catches herself before it can gain any notice. She stumbles, but regains her footing, whispering harshly at him.]
Excuse me? Was there... [Her mind races at the possibilities and being as sharp as she was, she figures it out quickly.]
[He looks at her apologetically even as she begins to admonish him, his back all but pressed against the bookshelves as he lifts his chin to look past her for any movement. For the moment, the coast seems clear, and he presses his lips into a tight, worried line before giving her another truly contrite look, lowering his own voice to a whisper as well.]
I apologize. It's—
[Well, she had hit the nail squarely on the head, had she not?]
It's as you say. Dr. Manx.
[He looks somehow wearier just for having said the name.]
Though there was nothing untoward to see or overhear, I'd rather not take any chances with that one.
[As he explains, however, he has yet to realize that he's not yet released her hand.]
[Her brow furrows at his answer. She whispers back incredulously.]
Seeing us wouldn't be tooโ
[There's a pause as she falls silent trying to gauge any approaching footsteps. But there's the other matter of how he holds onto her hand and how precarious this proximity between them is. To be honest, her thoughts are entirely jumbled by trying to figure out the implications of why it was bad for Dr. Manx to see them together, clashing with the very distracting notion of how broad Dr. Dekarios is up close and the floodgates of that night begin to creak and damn it, damn it, DAMN IT.
Amelia takes a huge breath and looks down at their feet.
If he wasn't willing to take his chances with Dr. Manx seeing them together, then there were some possibilities that she doesn't feel great about entertaining, but logically lead to some plausible conclusions. But this isn't the time to ask him (and she wonders why she doesn't want to really know).]
[The moment she says so, he becomes entirely too aware of the fact that he had not, in fact, released her just yet— just as he becomes keenly aware of how very close they are in this crowded aisle, and a flash of that night comes back unbidden: the kiss under the streetlight, when he had first stepped close and put his arms around—
No, no, none of that now. He releases her hand and furrows his brow slightly, apologetic.]
My apologies. I was— distracted.
[By Dr. Manx or their close proximity, he doesn't know. A bit of both, perhaps. It's not only that he wishes to avoid any unnecessary attempts to play at being able to be professional with the dean herself, but there is something in his gut that tells him allowing her to see him speaking closely with any woman who wasn't Tara was likely to draw undue and unwarranted attention, even if it was only friendly conversation.
She had always been the jealous type, and there had been nothing gracious about their parting. His visit to her office following that meeting at the beginning of the semester had made it clear that very little had changes.]
I suppose if we aim to be friends, we don't need to be so concerned about whether or not we're seen speaking.
[Gods above, tucked away like this, the scent of her is difficult to ignore— he doesn't know if it's shampoo or perfume or something else entirely, but he has to draw in a breath and avert his gaze to right himself before his thoughts get carried away with him.
Right. This friendship business may have a few obstacles to overcome, but it will be well worth the effort, he's convinced. Better to push through than to continue dancing around one another awkwardly.]
[Why, she does smell like honey and lavender, maybe a hint of cardamom, thanks for asking.
(Yeah, rough restart on the friends thing already.)
The professor's head remains bent down, making her red hair curtain her flushed face. The second Dr. Dekarios releases her hand she does a half-swerving motion so she's standing next to him on his right rather than staying right in his front.]
... Let's give it another minute and wait it out.
[She rubs her hands together restlessly.]
... If it helps... Thank you for being... Considerate. About everything.
[He exhales slowly to steady himself, smoothing out the front of his vest with his newly-freed hand as she moves to his right, stepping back into his field of vision. When she thanks him, his brow furrows slightly, a small crease forming just between his eyes. His immediate thought is that it's wholly unnecessary, but he supposes not everyone would have had the common sense to keep private matters private.]
Of course. I would never have dreamed of doing otherwise.
[He understands, of course, that there's no way she could have known that. They both knew a few fairly personal details about one another, but... they had still been strangers. Acquaintances, at best.]
What happens behind closed doors is no one else's business. I've never been all that fond of gossip, myself.
[He looks straight ahead before he glances back towards the expanse beyond the aisle.]
You gave the impression that you came to this city when you did to make a clean start. I'll not do anything to hinder that.
[He's so blindsided by that unintended pun and her acknowledgment of it that it starts a laugh out of him, enough so that he has to clap a hand over his mouth to smother it and keep from drawing attention— just in case a certain dean is still close by, but he still crinkles around the eyes, much like he had that night when she'd managed to make him laugh and pulled him from his own brooding thoughts.
He's smiling when he lets his hand drop away, happy to address her other concerns.]
I'm not certain what it will look like, either. It may surprise you to know that my pool of friends is actually quite small.
[The result of having spent so many years investing all of his time and energy into one person— and that particular person's insistence on privacy. He'd been unable to share his life with anyone other than Tara, and so other friendships had fallen away.]
Coffee seems an excellent place to start. I can teach you the trick to it, if you like, though it does take some time to perfect.
[She doesn't laugh when he does, but her nose does twitch slightly when she turns her head to look at his smiling face.]
I wouldn't mind learning how to make better coffee.
[Amelia could use it too; there's probably some mornings he's seen her with the local commercial iced coffees because sometimes, a girl's gotta be real basic and quick.]
If anyone really wants to ask about us, we'll just say it started with the coffee and sandwiches. There's only so much they can read into that.
You're quite right. Besides— it would hardly be the first time two people of the opposite sex became friends.
[Really, there's nothing to raise any eyebrows over, is there? It's not as though anyone else would know anything about how they had met, or the fumbling it took to get to this point. There may still be a bit of fumbling ahead, but he does feel they're pointed in the right direction.]
It's not as though anyone has ever given a second thought to my friendship with Dr. Prescott.
[Possibly because of their apparent age difference, though that seems terribly small-minded.]
Perhaps we needn't worry quite as much as we have been.
[He smiles faintly, encouraging— there are far, far worse things to be, he thinks, though they could afford to be a touch kinder with themselves.
When she declares that the coast is clear, he exhales, letting out a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding. The complexity of the Ariel situation— if they were truly to be friends, that would all have to come out someday, but this was hardly the day for it.]
Excellent idea. I never thought I would find myself so eager to put a library behind me, but I'll resume my task another time.
[As he steps out from the aisle to gather the things he had left in the armchair, he does pause to look back at her, his smile hitching upwards at one corner.]
[She tries not to notice his smile, tries not to focus on it. But for a second, when he affirms his anticipation, Amelia feels the relief that indicates that maybe, just maybe, this could work out.
Her reply to him is still brusque, however.]
I hope you understand that the same rules will apply?
[No pictures of one another, but anything interesting objects or sights will be allowed.]
[He places his hand over his heart and gives her a bit of a mock bow before reaching for his bag and pulling it over his shoulder, a wry smile quirking to one side.]
I'll be certain to bear them in mind. I don't strike you as much of a rule breaker, do I?
[Well— maybe he shouldn't have asked. He wasn't supposed to have messaged her beyond assuring she made it home safely that first morning to begin with, but he feels there are always worthy exceptions.
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sunfloras2024-01-21 09:17 pm
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Dr. Prescott. Duly noted.
[The professor recalls the older woman who had sat next to Gale at the beginning of the semester. She can only take his word for it when he shows certainty of her discretion since it's obvious that they're this far into the year and no one has shown even a hint of suspicion about their connection outside of campus.]
A thank you is in order so
Thank you.
I'm not sure where to go from here.
[Before she can delete that respone, a wayword press of the 'send' button dashes that notion so now it's too late.]
It might be better if we just go on as we've been doing.
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You have nothing to thank me for. It was common decency. The last thing I would want would be for this to make your time here at the university uncomfortable.
[Of course, it's done that for both of them, but neither of them has sought to make it so. They are managing it the best they can, he imagines. It's hardly as though any of this was intentional.
He pauses before sending a second message, feeling something stick at the back of his throat.]
I'm not sure where to go from here, either.
I can say I certainly prefer speaking to not, though I understand the challenges that may present, given we had initially intended on never seeing one another again. That, of course, is no longer an option.
[He doesn't say so, but that part... that, he's grateful for.]
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She didn't want to be on bad terms with him. As they were now, however, other possibilities didn't feel realistic. ]
Since our departments are sharing a building, at least it isn't abnormal for us to be talking.
That is, if that's what you're going for.
[More talking, that is. The professor has a feeling that at the very least, Dr. Dekarios really did like her company in a platonic sense.]
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Besides. Neither of them had been looking for anything of the sort. They'd been clear enough on that point, hadn't they? He'd made a mistake, perhaps, in seeking more, letting himself become briefly infatuated, but— this was better. This nipped that ill-conceived venture in the bud, if nothing else.
Still, they could be friends. They had more in common than he did with many of his other colleagues. That would hardly be out of line, would it?]
I'd quite enjoy that, if you're amenable. We're colleagues. There's nothing to stop us from being friends.
[Some people might say such a thing and mean it as a dismissal, a promise to never follow through on, but not him.]
We have a great deal to talk about, if we so choose.
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She bites her lower lip, closes her eyes, and leans her forehead on her screen. There's a relieved, but conflicted sensation at this resolution they've reached. Making a new friend at work is unexpected (but not unwanted, all context leading up to it aside). Lord knows she has very few true companions and how difficult it was to make that connection as an adult.
Amelia starts to type again, but then deletes the characters, continuing to gauge the situation and finally pinpointing the exact emotion that has stalked her throughout this entire ordeal.
Guilt.
In her attempt at temporary escapism, all she did was create more guilt when turning to a stranger and falling into his arms. And now, Gale, no longer a stranger, continues to extend utter kindness and understanding. It makes her gut twist.
Texting back should be easier, but instead, she stands up and moves towards where Dr. Dekarios is sitting and stops to lean against a shelf, one hand clutching her opposite arm.]
... I might not be a good friend.
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No— none of that. Not only was the prospect of anything more than friendship no longer on the table, it never should have been. It wasn't what she had been in search of that night, certainly, and not something he was ready to seriously consider again— if ever, after what he had been through. It had been a moment of weakness, or a series of such moments, reaching out to her again after she had left his apartment.
Was he fooling himself, thinking that even friendship could be achievable, after all was said and done? Perhaps. It may have been a foolish thought, indeed, but after all was said and done, he could use a friend. She probably could, too.
He would have to separate the memory of "Eva" from who Amelia actually was. The night they'd shared was something he would hold dear, because there were moments that had made it clear it was more to both of them than a way to pass the time— but that something more didn't necessarily have anything to do with the other person, and more with what each of them needed.
He chooses his words with care as he offers a cautious but genuine smile.]
You've gone above and beyond so far, as far as I'm concerned. There are friends I've known longer who've not taken such an interest in my taking care of myself.
[He slips his phone back into his pocket so that he can give her his full attention, turning in his seat to angle himself towards her.]
As it so happens, I make an excellent friend. I may have met Eva, but I've yet to get to know Amelia— and I would very much like to. She seems to have very good taste in both books and breakfast sandwiches.
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But when Gale continues to extend his hand in friendship, the desire to shy away isn't as strong as before. She looks at him directly and purses her lips before looking at her feet again. There is a ghost of a smile, faint thing that it is.]
... We can talk about books. It's an easy start for both Amelia and Eva.
[She might not make a good friend, but no one can say that Amelia never tries.
Amelia moves closer to Gale and holds out her hand.]
Friends?
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If his heart leaps into his throat for a moment when his fingers close around hers, it's entirely by coincidence.]
Friends.
[It is luck and luck alone that allows him to then catch a glimpse of movement in his peripheral vision— someone coming through the front doors they are still in plain view of, the movement just distracting enough to draw his full attention for a single beat.
Immediately, his heart abandons his throat and plummets to somewhere beneath even his stomach when he spots the unmistakable figure of Dr. Manx, well-dressed and severe-looking as she has ever been. His grip on Amelia's hand tightens as he feels his fight-or-flight response triggering, and he quickly begins to move towards the nearest aisle, leaving his bag behind and pulling the literature professor along with him in a hurry.]
This way, quickly!
no subject
Whatโ
[Her voice was a little too audible and she catches herself before it can gain any notice. She stumbles, but regains her footing, whispering harshly at him.]
Excuse me? Was there... [Her mind races at the possibilities and being as sharp as she was, she figures it out quickly.]
Is it someone you know? Did someone see?
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I apologize. It's—
[Well, she had hit the nail squarely on the head, had she not?]
It's as you say. Dr. Manx.
[He looks somehow wearier just for having said the name.]
Though there was nothing untoward to see or overhear, I'd rather not take any chances with that one.
[As he explains, however, he has yet to realize that he's not yet released her hand.]
no subject
Seeing us wouldn't be tooโ
[There's a pause as she falls silent trying to gauge any approaching footsteps. But there's the other matter of how he holds onto her hand and how precarious this proximity between them is. To be honest, her thoughts are entirely jumbled by trying to figure out the implications of why it was bad for Dr. Manx to see them together, clashing with the very distracting notion of how broad Dr. Dekarios is up close and the floodgates of that night begin to creak and damn it, damn it, DAMN IT.
Amelia takes a huge breath and looks down at their feet.
If he wasn't willing to take his chances with Dr. Manx seeing them together, then there were some possibilities that she doesn't feel great about entertaining, but logically lead to some plausible conclusions. But this isn't the time to ask him (and she wonders why she doesn't want to really know).]
... Do you have to keep holding my hand?
no subject
No, no, none of that now. He releases her hand and furrows his brow slightly, apologetic.]
My apologies. I was— distracted.
[By Dr. Manx or their close proximity, he doesn't know. A bit of both, perhaps. It's not only that he wishes to avoid any unnecessary attempts to play at being able to be professional with the dean herself, but there is something in his gut that tells him allowing her to see him speaking closely with any woman who wasn't Tara was likely to draw undue and unwarranted attention, even if it was only friendly conversation.
She had always been the jealous type, and there had been nothing gracious about their parting. His visit to her office following that meeting at the beginning of the semester had made it clear that very little had changes.]
I suppose if we aim to be friends, we don't need to be so concerned about whether or not we're seen speaking.
[Gods above, tucked away like this, the scent of her is difficult to ignore— he doesn't know if it's shampoo or perfume or something else entirely, but he has to draw in a breath and avert his gaze to right himself before his thoughts get carried away with him.
Right. This friendship business may have a few obstacles to overcome, but it will be well worth the effort, he's convinced. Better to push through than to continue dancing around one another awkwardly.]
... she must have passed by now.
no subject
(Yeah, rough restart on the friends thing already.)
The professor's head remains bent down, making her red hair curtain her flushed face. The second Dr. Dekarios releases her hand she does a half-swerving motion so she's standing next to him on his right rather than staying right in his front.]
... Let's give it another minute and wait it out.
[She rubs her hands together restlessly.]
... If it helps... Thank you for being... Considerate. About everything.
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Of course. I would never have dreamed of doing otherwise.
[He understands, of course, that there's no way she could have known that. They both knew a few fairly personal details about one another, but... they had still been strangers. Acquaintances, at best.]
What happens behind closed doors is no one else's business. I've never been all that fond of gossip, myself.
[He looks straight ahead before he glances back towards the expanse beyond the aisle.]
You gave the impression that you came to this city when you did to make a clean start. I'll not do anything to hinder that.
no subject
[She fiddles with her intertwined fingers keeping her gaze firmly towards the floor.]
I've done a bang up job already.
[...]
No pun intended.
[Somehow, the delivery manages to remain dry. But then she follows up on a more serious note.]
If we're going to be friends I don't know what that will look like yet. Maybe it could start with you making me more of that coffee.
[Amelia finally looks at Gale.]
I haven't been able to make it taste the same when I brew it myself.
no subject
He's smiling when he lets his hand drop away, happy to address her other concerns.]
I'm not certain what it will look like, either. It may surprise you to know that my pool of friends is actually quite small.
[The result of having spent so many years investing all of his time and energy into one person— and that particular person's insistence on privacy. He'd been unable to share his life with anyone other than Tara, and so other friendships had fallen away.]
Coffee seems an excellent place to start. I can teach you the trick to it, if you like, though it does take some time to perfect.
no subject
I wouldn't mind learning how to make better coffee.
[Amelia could use it too; there's probably some mornings he's seen her with the local commercial iced coffees because sometimes, a girl's gotta be real basic and quick.]
If anyone really wants to ask about us, we'll just say it started with the coffee and sandwiches. There's only so much they can read into that.
no subject
[Really, there's nothing to raise any eyebrows over, is there? It's not as though anyone else would know anything about how they had met, or the fumbling it took to get to this point. There may still be a bit of fumbling ahead, but he does feel they're pointed in the right direction.]
It's not as though anyone has ever given a second thought to my friendship with Dr. Prescott.
[Possibly because of their apparent age difference, though that seems terribly small-minded.]
Perhaps we needn't worry quite as much as we have been.
no subject
[The professor sighs, but at least she puts down her fidgeting hands and relaxes her shoulders.]
But I think I can safely say that I can at least hide it.
[She takes the risk and steps forward to look both ways down the aisle to make sure no one they know are in their proximity.]
Okay. We're safe. Let's just gather our things and call it a day before the library closes.
... And I'll text you when I get home.
[That is the most promising sign from Amelia yet.]
no subject
[He smiles faintly, encouraging— there are far, far worse things to be, he thinks, though they could afford to be a touch kinder with themselves.
When she declares that the coast is clear, he exhales, letting out a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding. The complexity of the Ariel situation— if they were truly to be friends, that would all have to come out someday, but this was hardly the day for it.]
Excellent idea. I never thought I would find myself so eager to put a library behind me, but I'll resume my task another time.
[As he steps out from the aisle to gather the things he had left in the armchair, he does pause to look back at her, his smile hitching upwards at one corner.]
I'll be looking forward to it, by the by.
no subject
Her reply to him is still brusque, however.]
I hope you understand that the same rules will apply?
[No pictures of one another, but anything interesting objects or sights will be allowed.]
no subject
[He places his hand over his heart and gives her a bit of a mock bow before reaching for his bag and pulling it over his shoulder, a wry smile quirking to one side.]
I'll be certain to bear them in mind. I don't strike you as much of a rule breaker, do I?
[Well— maybe he shouldn't have asked. He wasn't supposed to have messaged her beyond assuring she made it home safely that first morning to begin with, but he feels there are always worthy exceptions.
He clears his throat.]
Perhaps best not to answer that. Shall we?