[Right as he's running up to her, Matthias thinks, Why am I doing this? Where is this going to go? What is he going to say to her? Acknowledging the gifts seems stupid. If she'd wanted acknowledgement, stands to reason that she'd have stuck around, right. And then what if they weren't from her? Well, no, they've got to be--too specific to be from someone else--but still--
It's too late for such thoughts. They're face-to-face now, and Laura looks like she's wearing a mask. She's unreadable. Whereas Matthias likely looks like a lunatic, trying to smile and trying to remain normal-looking, whatever that means--]
[Matthias looks as normal as he always does--no, he looks better. There's something of his usual manic energy, but something else, too. (It's that he's smiling at her. No matter what else happens, she will keep his smile in her mind and bring it out again when she is alone.) And in return, she's...she's herself. Dour, uncertain, biting into her lower lip for a moment before she answers.]
Fine.
[This, she has learned, is what you say when you do not want to tell somebody how you are but care enough not to ignore the question. I do not know how I am seems like an embarrassing answer, like something only she would ever have to say.]
How...how are you?
[Small talk: not her strong suit. It feels unnatural, asking.]
[Yeah. He shifts his weight to his other foot and folds his arms over his chest, trying to look casual and disaffected. It doesn't work very well. The innate shine of him comes through too strong, radiating happy eagerness.]
I've been looking for you. I mean, not-- just 'cause. I found the stuff. The--oranges and chocolate and all. That was-- I mean, thanks. Thanks for it. It was great. 'Coarse, now I have to get you an orange. 'Cause I'm one down now.
[Oh, wait. He spares a glance around her, trying to pick up on clues.]
Were you-- did I interrupt you? Or anything? Sorry. Just ran up and started talking--I dunno when to shut up.
[The fact that he talks to her like nothing's changed is strangely comforting. Perhaps nothing has, besides the fact that she no longer owes any oranges. You do not owe me, she wants to say. That was a gift. And then she can stand there and enjoy the familiar scent of his hair and listen to him talk. But--
But he keeps talking, and she realizes that she has no comprehensible excuse to be here.]
...No. I was-- [Watching you. No, she knows better than to say that. Lamely, she tries to elide over it.] I was not doing anything.
[Something else needs to be said, she knows just enough to realize as much--but not enough to know what she should be saying. So she falls silent, watching him for some idea.]
[Being accustomed to doing the bulk of the talking, Matthias picks up the end of the conversation with cheerful agreeability.]
Yeah? Me neither. Well--
[He swings the bag around to show it to her. There are a few faint grease stains showing through.]
These're for the griffons. I'm trying to get them to like me. It's going... [Eh. He winces, with a rueful grin.] Well, it's all right. Anyway, good. I'm glad I didn't interrupt you or anything.
[Should he mention the dance? No. Probably not. Or should he? Matthias shifts his weight again, scratches at his hair, then realizes that's the hand that was all sausagey, and pulls it away to consider it with some mild despair. Shit.]
[Laura observes his bag of meat, as Matthias seems to want her to do.]
They do not like me, either.
[At least he isn't alone in that. Right? And he has a far better chance of making peace with the creatures than she, if only because he has a bag of sausages on hand (and no claws to speak of). She should let him go and feed the griffons and charm them into good behavior.
The problem is that she would like him to stay here in this shadowy stretch of corridor, because that would mean he remained with her, and she has no idea what to say to make it happen. Stay, perhaps, would be the obvious choice, but the thought of receiving No in answer is humiliating. The best she can come up with is what she had hoped to say before.]
You do not owe me an orange. [She feels stupid now that she's actually saying it, the words coming out hasty.] It was a gift.
Yeah? That makes me feel a bit better. Maybe they could, though. If you bribe 'em. That's my plan.
[Hopefully she misses the quiet squelch that the bag makes when he slings it over his shoulder. The perfume of smoke and spice blooms out from the impact. It smells like breakfast. Between that and the mention of oranges, Matthias realizes that he could eat again. This distracts him enough that he misses how quickly she blurts the rest of it out.]
Oh--yeah. No, I know. But I want to get you another one. It'll be like... not a joke, precisely. But sort of like a joke. Inside, like that. And if I'm always giving you oranges, that means I'll always be getting oranges back. Supply and demand.
[That's something he's heard other people say, casually applied to this situation. Makes sense: he's both supplying the oranges, and demanding the oranges. But friendly-like.]
Wish I'd brought one of 'em with me. I ate one this morning, and then I saved the other one. I'll be glad of it later. Only I'm hungry now, but that's nearly always, for me.
[She notices the sound the bag makes and the smell that permeates the air, but it does not seem anywhere near as important as what Matthias is saying just then. That he will bring her more oranges, and she will do the same in answer, and it will always be something they have. It means he will want to keep talking to her, or he would accept the gift and say nothing more. They will still see each other.
It is a great relief, one that shows on her face as her features relaxing, mouth nearly a smile. She wants to touch his hand, the one that smells less strongly of sausage. She does not reach for him.
And, after a moment, she glances at the bag of meat on his shoulder. It smells edible enough, if nowhere are delicious as an orange.]
[See, persistence and talking a lot sometimes pay off! This is going great. Not talking about the dance was absolutely the right move.
--Oh, the sausages. Matthias shoots a glance over his shoulder, and falters.]
Yeah-- right. Yeah. Those're for the griffons, though. Unless--d'you want one? I'd give you one if you did.
[What a gentleman. He shifts his weight again. How do people do this? One minute he feels like he's got a handle on this and he can talk to Laura and the next he feels like a tit. Who offers a girl a sausage? But an actual sausage. Who does that. Only him.]
Or if you're not doing anything, really. And if you're-- I mean, I'm the one who's hungry. But I could go to the hall and see if there's food around to eat. And you could come as well, if you like. If you're hungry. If you're not, that's-- fine.
[She does not want to steal from the mouths of the griffons, considering that their affection for Matthias is on the line. He will need the sausages for that, whereas she already feels some strain of affection for him. It would be a waste to give them to her.
After a moment's thought, she decides that she is not hungry, but that she can attempt to be, if it means they will not have to go their separate ways.]
I will come. [And then, to ensure she will not arouse suspicion when they arrive:] Though I may not eat much.
[But she will eat just enough that her presence will have a purpose beyond watching Matthias.
It is surprisingly comfortable to walk with him to the dining hall, as if nothing has changed. She does not entirely believe it, but she's heartened enough to give a stab at conversation.]
[Pleased, there's a lift in Matthias' steps as they walk along together. The dining hall isn't so far off, far enough to work up his appetite even more. Not that it needs it.]
I dunno about often. Sort of, I s'ppose. My friend, Merrill, she's got, what d'you call it. She's bonded with one of 'em. She's the one who got me in to see 'em. I don't think I'm meant to go all on my own, really, but I sort of got in the habit--see, a few months back, they thought a load of people had died. Turned about to be a false report, or they were hoping that everyone would eventually be dead, or something along those lines--anyway, but, Merrill was one of 'em. So I started visiting the griffons then, more'n I had been. It was, [and he winces a little, here,] well, it was sort of stupid. I was thinking that I didn't want 'em to miss having her around.
[There is something a little too honest about that. Matthias feels a little pink in the cheeks; he coughs into his shoulder, trying to move the moment on.]
'Scuse me. Er. Anyway. That's how I started on it. I s'ppose I like animals as well, in general. There were loads about when I was a kid. Not dogs. I bloody well hate dogs.
[One of the most pleasant aspects of talking to Matthias is that she really does not have to talk at all; he tells stories the way other people breathe. Even without knowing who Merrill is (and feeling an inexplicable stab of the territorial as he describes visiting the griffons with her, just for a moment), she enjoys listening. Especially at the moments when he says things that matter in ways other things don't, like his desire to prevent loneliness in the griffons. It is...it is admirable. Not at all stupid.
But he keeps talking before she is entirely decided on saying as much, so she does not. Instead, she asks the inevitable question.]
I dunno. [It comes out in a mumbly boyish beats-me way. Teenage universality.] I reckon I must have matched up against one when I was small and come out on that bad end of it, or something. But ages ago, much longer'n I remember back. Instead what I've got is, ever since I can remember, dogs put me on edge.
There's a warden here and she's got this mabari that's all right. And Gwenaëlle Baudin-- [He puts on a stuff posh voice for that name, exaggerated.] --she's got this massive dog that she keeps about. I met it once. Didn't like it, but it didn't eat my face, so now that's two dogs against all the rest that I can't sodding stand. Maybe when I'm ancient I'll have come around to liking them.
[He sucks his teeth, thoughtful and judgement, and delivers a death knell to that hope:] Doubt it.
Don't tell me you've got some dog secreted away in your room? Hey, where's it you're staying, anyways? I wanted to look for you before. Didn't know where.
[That...she does not understand it, admittedly. But she has seen people shrink back from house spiders from what are likely similar reasons. She can recognize that sense of unreasonable get it away from me, if from a distance.]
No.
[The only secret thing in her room is the box she is putting her wages into.]
The Templar tower. [It still smells faintly of lyrium to her--or she imagines it does--and that, Laura finds strangely comforting. Better than the thought of spells echoing around her, at least.] Climb six flights of stairs.
[She hesitates before speaking again, wanting to ask a question and doubting the wisdom of doing so. But curiosity--and something more selfish, less certain in its purpose--wins out.]
[And here Matthias hesitates, too, derailed from his easy track. He's unsure if he should bring up the dance now, if he should leave it unsaid, if it should be something that passes by without comment or scrutiny or definition.]
'Cause I wanted to see you.
[There. That's true, and he feels a little braced by that. Nothing weird or uncertain about that one.]
To thank you. And 'cause I hadn't seen you. It's amazing, sort of, that the Gallows is as big as it is. Like all of the people that live here, and I can still go a day without seeing someone. So--it's good to know where I could go to find you. If I wanted to. [He touches his fingertips to his forehead, a man committing something to memory.] Templar tower, six flights of stairs.
[--wait, that was stupid. Embarrassed, he drops his hand, and grins self-consciously.]
[It doesn't occur to her to find any of that stupid. Instead, it is...she should be concerned at the thought of anyone knowing where she sleeps, but Matthias is not anyone. He will not do something to compromise her safety--and she could take him, anyway, if he tried.
She is quiet for a moment or two, longing to say something and deciding it is a bad idea and wanting to anyway. In the end, the desire to speak wins out, but only just. Her voice is quiet, hesitant.]
Matthias looks around at her and grins, huge and goonish. Then he makes himself look away again, lest he embarrass himself any more than he already has, or is.]
Brilliant. good. I mean, yeah. Er-- hang on, here--
[He jogs ahead of her a few paces, hurrying to get to the door to the hall first so he can hold it open for her. It gives him a moment to collect himself, swallowing hard to dissipate the ringing in his ears, and the buzzing in his fingertips. Brilliant, brilliant, brilliant. Maybe he still ought to bring up what happened, but for now, surely it's all right to just-- enjoy this.]
[He holds the door open for her, which is...nice. It is new. And the way he lit up like a bonfire when she spoke, like the word brilliant was a description of him--
If there is a word that captures the tendrils of warmth that seem to be curling around the bones of her ribcage, she does not know it. She glances up at his face as she walks past him, at the way his smile's overtaken every visible speck of him, and tentatively, she smiles back.
[He's clumsy in the way he lets the door bang closed behind them, but his fingers still feel all tingly. Walking away hadn't helped. Maybe it's not meant to be helped. Maybe it's all right.
Truthfully, Matthias is no stranger to this. It's no mystery: he likes Laura. And he's gotten to like her fast, and it won't be going away anytime soon, if at all, no matter what. It will linger, it will get worse, and he's not upset about it. It's good, liking people. Even if it comes at a rush, even if he feels like someone's turned him inside out and then back again, charged up all the parts of him and then put him back together. Even when that little smile sucks all the wind out of him, diverts it to fan the flames all eating at him.
And he still has to walk with her, follow her, go to fetch food off of the lengthy sideboard where it's laid. Simple stuff, at this hour: rolls and butter, boiled eggs, skinny sausages still on their strings, cheeses. Nothing that needs to be kept particularly warm or cold, for a few hours. The sausages are the same that Matthias had taken for the griffons, still in his bag. He grabs some for himself anyways--plus three rolls, two eggs, and--after some deliberation--a great big hunk of cheese that he hacks off with a knife.]
Hungry. [--He offers as a defense, with a rueful little grin.]
[At least one of them enjoys this sensation. Or one and a half, perhaps--Laura doesn't dislike the way it feels to walk next to him and consider the plates of food laid out. But the uncertainty that comes with...that, she could gladly live without.]
Yes.
[She is not--or, at least, not by comparison--but if she does not eat, her presence will have no purpose. One roll, torn open so she can spread a thin layer of butter along its innards, is all she needs.
For a moment, she just looks at him, his rumpled hair and self-conscious smile and the long line of his neck. It feels like something is supposed to happen, something beyond taking in the angle of his jaw. And then she remembers that if she has nothing else to say--if she does, she isn't sure what--then standing there in silence will be an ineffective use of their time. He still must visit the griffons.
Which all means abruptly turning away in search of a table. You know, like normal people do.]
[Certainly it's abrupt. But Matthias can deal with abrupt. People often are, with him, and anyhow, it's not as if he left her anything to say, not really. Right? So--his arms full of his snacks, really more of his small meal--he drifts after her into the hall proper.
There's not that many people here at this time of day. They have their pick of spots, whole tables that can just be the two of them. Matthias, walking slow to balance all of his food, nods toward a table that is situated in a shaft of sunlight.]
There? Hey, I was thinking. [Of course he was thinking; of course he's something to say about it.] If I threw an apple in the air, could you claw it apart before it hit the ground?
There. [An easy agreement, easier than thinking of something else to say. Sitting in the sun suits her anyway: it is warm and pleasant and makes Matthias look warmer and pleasanter, too. (It is growing a little distracting, nearly a little painful, to observe him and be so aware of the shape of his face, not just his scent and stride. But there is something about it she does not mind. The fact that he looks back at her, too, maybe.)
Fortunately, he comes up with a topic of conversation that feels mercifully straightforward. It requires no real consideration before she replies.]
If you threw it at me. [If it were outside her reach, the possibility would still be there, but she would have a greater risk of failure to consider.] I can cut anything.
[Maybe that's a bit much to say in advance of having seen her actually at it--but what are the chances that it won't be brilliant? How could someone clawing apart a bloody apple in midair be anything but brilliant?
Matthias tears a bite off of one of his rolls as he lets the rest of his bounty tumble onto the tabletop. He has manners enough to chew a little, but then he's too excited to wait it out entirely--]
We ought to test it. S'not that I don't believe you, right. But I want to see it for myself, just 'cause it'd be a good show. If you're all right with showing off, I mean.
[He is impressed enough at the idea that she decides it requires proof more immediate than someday. Laura's too aware of the glow of satisfaction at his answer, flickering somewhere in her chest; she needs for it to be justified, so it does not feel like something she's stolen.
Reaching across the table, she takes one of his rolls--she already split hers--and tosses it in the air. One claw appears, swiping sideways as the roll comes back down, and now there are two (somewhat) even pieces lying on the tabletop.
Laura meets his gaze again, steady. This is a trick she can be secure in.]
[Matthias, raising his now very round eyes from the bisected halves of his roll, meets her eyes with a kind of awe plain on his face. Then he laughs, and it's somehow triumphant, as he leans forward to snatch the rolls off of the tabletop so he can hold them in either hand and stare at them.]
Maker's balls-- That was brilliant!
[Carefully, he fits the halves back together, then lets them fall apart in his hands once more.]
And you did it like it was nothing. Just chucked it up, and then, swosh-- [The roll halves thunk down onto the table again as Matthias drops them in his reenactment.] Brilliant. Seriously. I've never seen anything like it. I'd bet no one has.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2019-09-09 05:17 am (UTC)It's too late for such thoughts. They're face-to-face now, and Laura looks like she's wearing a mask. She's unreadable. Whereas Matthias likely looks like a lunatic, trying to smile and trying to remain normal-looking, whatever that means--]
Hi.
[Good start.]
How're you?
no subject
Date: 2019-09-09 05:16 pm (UTC)Fine.
[This, she has learned, is what you say when you do not want to tell somebody how you are but care enough not to ignore the question. I do not know how I am seems like an embarrassing answer, like something only she would ever have to say.]
How...how are you?
[Small talk: not her strong suit. It feels unnatural, asking.]
no subject
Date: 2019-09-09 08:10 pm (UTC)[Yeah. He shifts his weight to his other foot and folds his arms over his chest, trying to look casual and disaffected. It doesn't work very well. The innate shine of him comes through too strong, radiating happy eagerness.]
I've been looking for you. I mean, not-- just 'cause. I found the stuff. The--oranges and chocolate and all. That was-- I mean, thanks. Thanks for it. It was great. 'Coarse, now I have to get you an orange. 'Cause I'm one down now.
[Oh, wait. He spares a glance around her, trying to pick up on clues.]
Were you-- did I interrupt you? Or anything? Sorry. Just ran up and started talking--I dunno when to shut up.
no subject
Date: 2019-09-10 12:00 am (UTC)But he keeps talking, and she realizes that she has no comprehensible excuse to be here.]
...No. I was-- [Watching you. No, she knows better than to say that. Lamely, she tries to elide over it.] I was not doing anything.
[Something else needs to be said, she knows just enough to realize as much--but not enough to know what she should be saying. So she falls silent, watching him for some idea.]
no subject
Date: 2019-09-10 02:50 am (UTC)Yeah? Me neither. Well--
[He swings the bag around to show it to her. There are a few faint grease stains showing through.]
These're for the griffons. I'm trying to get them to like me. It's going... [Eh. He winces, with a rueful grin.] Well, it's all right. Anyway, good. I'm glad I didn't interrupt you or anything.
[Should he mention the dance? No. Probably not. Or should he? Matthias shifts his weight again, scratches at his hair, then realizes that's the hand that was all sausagey, and pulls it away to consider it with some mild despair. Shit.]
I guess that's-- all I wanted to say.
no subject
Date: 2019-09-10 03:07 am (UTC)They do not like me, either.
[At least he isn't alone in that. Right? And he has a far better chance of making peace with the creatures than she, if only because he has a bag of sausages on hand (and no claws to speak of). She should let him go and feed the griffons and charm them into good behavior.
The problem is that she would like him to stay here in this shadowy stretch of corridor, because that would mean he remained with her, and she has no idea what to say to make it happen. Stay, perhaps, would be the obvious choice, but the thought of receiving No in answer is humiliating. The best she can come up with is what she had hoped to say before.]
You do not owe me an orange. [She feels stupid now that she's actually saying it, the words coming out hasty.] It was a gift.
no subject
Date: 2019-09-10 05:17 am (UTC)[Hopefully she misses the quiet squelch that the bag makes when he slings it over his shoulder. The perfume of smoke and spice blooms out from the impact. It smells like breakfast. Between that and the mention of oranges, Matthias realizes that he could eat again. This distracts him enough that he misses how quickly she blurts the rest of it out.]
Oh--yeah. No, I know. But I want to get you another one. It'll be like... not a joke, precisely. But sort of like a joke. Inside, like that. And if I'm always giving you oranges, that means I'll always be getting oranges back. Supply and demand.
[That's something he's heard other people say, casually applied to this situation. Makes sense: he's both supplying the oranges, and demanding the oranges. But friendly-like.]
Wish I'd brought one of 'em with me. I ate one this morning, and then I saved the other one. I'll be glad of it later. Only I'm hungry now, but that's nearly always, for me.
no subject
Date: 2019-09-10 12:57 pm (UTC)[She notices the sound the bag makes and the smell that permeates the air, but it does not seem anywhere near as important as what Matthias is saying just then. That he will bring her more oranges, and she will do the same in answer, and it will always be something they have. It means he will want to keep talking to her, or he would accept the gift and say nothing more. They will still see each other.
It is a great relief, one that shows on her face as her features relaxing, mouth nearly a smile. She wants to touch his hand, the one that smells less strongly of sausage. She does not reach for him.
And, after a moment, she glances at the bag of meat on his shoulder. It smells edible enough, if nowhere are delicious as an orange.]
You have sausage.
no subject
Date: 2019-09-10 05:26 pm (UTC)--Oh, the sausages. Matthias shoots a glance over his shoulder, and falters.]
Yeah-- right. Yeah. Those're for the griffons, though. Unless--d'you want one? I'd give you one if you did.
[What a gentleman. He shifts his weight again. How do people do this? One minute he feels like he's got a handle on this and he can talk to Laura and the next he feels like a tit. Who offers a girl a sausage? But an actual sausage. Who does that. Only him.]
Or if you're not doing anything, really. And if you're-- I mean, I'm the one who's hungry. But I could go to the hall and see if there's food around to eat. And you could come as well, if you like. If you're hungry. If you're not, that's-- fine.
no subject
Date: 2019-09-10 07:31 pm (UTC)After a moment's thought, she decides that she is not hungry, but that she can attempt to be, if it means they will not have to go their separate ways.]
I will come. [And then, to ensure she will not arouse suspicion when they arrive:] Though I may not eat much.
[But she will eat just enough that her presence will have a purpose beyond watching Matthias.
It is surprisingly comfortable to walk with him to the dining hall, as if nothing has changed. She does not entirely believe it, but she's heartened enough to give a stab at conversation.]
Do you visit the griffons often?
no subject
Date: 2019-09-11 09:05 pm (UTC)[Pleased, there's a lift in Matthias' steps as they walk along together. The dining hall isn't so far off, far enough to work up his appetite even more. Not that it needs it.]
I dunno about often. Sort of, I s'ppose. My friend, Merrill, she's got, what d'you call it. She's bonded with one of 'em. She's the one who got me in to see 'em. I don't think I'm meant to go all on my own, really, but I sort of got in the habit--see, a few months back, they thought a load of people had died. Turned about to be a false report, or they were hoping that everyone would eventually be dead, or something along those lines--anyway, but, Merrill was one of 'em. So I started visiting the griffons then, more'n I had been. It was, [and he winces a little, here,] well, it was sort of stupid. I was thinking that I didn't want 'em to miss having her around.
[There is something a little too honest about that. Matthias feels a little pink in the cheeks; he coughs into his shoulder, trying to move the moment on.]
'Scuse me. Er. Anyway. That's how I started on it. I s'ppose I like animals as well, in general. There were loads about when I was a kid. Not dogs. I bloody well hate dogs.
no subject
Date: 2019-09-13 01:42 am (UTC)But he keeps talking before she is entirely decided on saying as much, so she does not. Instead, she asks the inevitable question.]
Why?
[She suspects his reason differs from hers.]
no subject
Date: 2019-09-13 05:18 pm (UTC)I dunno. [It comes out in a mumbly boyish beats-me way. Teenage universality.] I reckon I must have matched up against one when I was small and come out on that bad end of it, or something. But ages ago, much longer'n I remember back. Instead what I've got is, ever since I can remember, dogs put me on edge.
There's a warden here and she's got this mabari that's all right. And Gwenaëlle Baudin-- [He puts on a stuff posh voice for that name, exaggerated.] --she's got this massive dog that she keeps about. I met it once. Didn't like it, but it didn't eat my face, so now that's two dogs against all the rest that I can't sodding stand. Maybe when I'm ancient I'll have come around to liking them.
[He sucks his teeth, thoughtful and judgement, and delivers a death knell to that hope:] Doubt it.
Don't tell me you've got some dog secreted away in your room? Hey, where's it you're staying, anyways? I wanted to look for you before. Didn't know where.
no subject
Date: 2019-09-13 05:37 pm (UTC)No.
[The only secret thing in her room is the box she is putting her wages into.]
The Templar tower. [It still smells faintly of lyrium to her--or she imagines it does--and that, Laura finds strangely comforting. Better than the thought of spells echoing around her, at least.] Climb six flights of stairs.
[She hesitates before speaking again, wanting to ask a question and doubting the wisdom of doing so. But curiosity--and something more selfish, less certain in its purpose--wins out.]
Why were you looking for me?
no subject
Date: 2019-09-15 04:37 am (UTC)[And here Matthias hesitates, too, derailed from his easy track. He's unsure if he should bring up the dance now, if he should leave it unsaid, if it should be something that passes by without comment or scrutiny or definition.]
'Cause I wanted to see you.
[There. That's true, and he feels a little braced by that. Nothing weird or uncertain about that one.]
To thank you. And 'cause I hadn't seen you. It's amazing, sort of, that the Gallows is as big as it is. Like all of the people that live here, and I can still go a day without seeing someone. So--it's good to know where I could go to find you. If I wanted to. [He touches his fingertips to his forehead, a man committing something to memory.] Templar tower, six flights of stairs.
[--wait, that was stupid. Embarrassed, he drops his hand, and grins self-consciously.]
Anyway. That's all.
no subject
Date: 2019-09-16 02:13 am (UTC)She is quiet for a moment or two, longing to say something and deciding it is a bad idea and wanting to anyway. In the end, the desire to speak wins out, but only just. Her voice is quiet, hesitant.]
I wanted to see you, too.
no subject
Date: 2019-09-19 05:05 am (UTC)Matthias looks around at her and grins, huge and goonish. Then he makes himself look away again, lest he embarrass himself any more than he already has, or is.]
Brilliant. good. I mean, yeah. Er-- hang on, here--
[He jogs ahead of her a few paces, hurrying to get to the door to the hall first so he can hold it open for her. It gives him a moment to collect himself, swallowing hard to dissipate the ringing in his ears, and the buzzing in his fingertips. Brilliant, brilliant, brilliant. Maybe he still ought to bring up what happened, but for now, surely it's all right to just-- enjoy this.]
no subject
Date: 2019-09-19 05:41 pm (UTC)If there is a word that captures the tendrils of warmth that seem to be curling around the bones of her ribcage, she does not know it. She glances up at his face as she walks past him, at the way his smile's overtaken every visible speck of him, and tentatively, she smiles back.
It feels strange.]
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Date: 2019-09-19 09:41 pm (UTC)Truthfully, Matthias is no stranger to this. It's no mystery: he likes Laura. And he's gotten to like her fast, and it won't be going away anytime soon, if at all, no matter what. It will linger, it will get worse, and he's not upset about it. It's good, liking people. Even if it comes at a rush, even if he feels like someone's turned him inside out and then back again, charged up all the parts of him and then put him back together. Even when that little smile sucks all the wind out of him, diverts it to fan the flames all eating at him.
And he still has to walk with her, follow her, go to fetch food off of the lengthy sideboard where it's laid. Simple stuff, at this hour: rolls and butter, boiled eggs, skinny sausages still on their strings, cheeses. Nothing that needs to be kept particularly warm or cold, for a few hours. The sausages are the same that Matthias had taken for the griffons, still in his bag. He grabs some for himself anyways--plus three rolls, two eggs, and--after some deliberation--a great big hunk of cheese that he hacks off with a knife.]
Hungry. [--He offers as a defense, with a rueful little grin.]
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Date: 2019-09-20 12:16 am (UTC)Yes.
[She is not--or, at least, not by comparison--but if she does not eat, her presence will have no purpose. One roll, torn open so she can spread a thin layer of butter along its innards, is all she needs.
For a moment, she just looks at him, his rumpled hair and self-conscious smile and the long line of his neck. It feels like something is supposed to happen, something beyond taking in the angle of his jaw. And then she remembers that if she has nothing else to say--if she does, she isn't sure what--then standing there in silence will be an ineffective use of their time. He still must visit the griffons.
Which all means abruptly turning away in search of a table. You know, like normal people do.]
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Date: 2019-09-22 09:50 pm (UTC)There's not that many people here at this time of day. They have their pick of spots, whole tables that can just be the two of them. Matthias, walking slow to balance all of his food, nods toward a table that is situated in a shaft of sunlight.]
There? Hey, I was thinking. [Of course he was thinking; of course he's something to say about it.] If I threw an apple in the air, could you claw it apart before it hit the ground?
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Date: 2019-09-22 11:39 pm (UTC)Fortunately, he comes up with a topic of conversation that feels mercifully straightforward. It requires no real consideration before she replies.]
If you threw it at me. [If it were outside her reach, the possibility would still be there, but she would have a greater risk of failure to consider.] I can cut anything.
[Perhaps not anything. But enough things.]
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Date: 2019-09-24 09:26 pm (UTC)[Maybe that's a bit much to say in advance of having seen her actually at it--but what are the chances that it won't be brilliant? How could someone clawing apart a bloody apple in midair be anything but brilliant?
Matthias tears a bite off of one of his rolls as he lets the rest of his bounty tumble onto the tabletop. He has manners enough to chew a little, but then he's too excited to wait it out entirely--]
We ought to test it. S'not that I don't believe you, right. But I want to see it for myself, just 'cause it'd be a good show. If you're all right with showing off, I mean.
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Date: 2019-09-25 01:36 am (UTC)Reaching across the table, she takes one of his rolls--she already split hers--and tosses it in the air. One claw appears, swiping sideways as the roll comes back down, and now there are two (somewhat) even pieces lying on the tabletop.
Laura meets his gaze again, steady. This is a trick she can be secure in.]
I am all right with showing off.
[With him, anyway.]
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Date: 2019-09-26 05:10 am (UTC)Maker's balls-- That was brilliant!
[Carefully, he fits the halves back together, then lets them fall apart in his hands once more.]
And you did it like it was nothing. Just chucked it up, and then, swosh-- [The roll halves thunk down onto the table again as Matthias drops them in his reenactment.] Brilliant. Seriously. I've never seen anything like it. I'd bet no one has.
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