gurabad | 037 » on and on we carry through the fear

[francel takes the arm given to him. his expression stays casual, but there is a tinge of greed to the way he clutches zephirin's elbow and draws himself close.]

Yes... but that's as it always is.

[the boy sighs, a tad too relaxed perhaps, but he likes the sensation of having zephirin beside him, and it's easy for him to talk about this sort of thing.]

...I'd be a pretty good target for a ransoming, huh...

Edited 2017-10-15 17:45 (UTC)

[ Francel could be joking, if he weren't in a genuinely vulnerable position. He sounds unworried, matter-of-fact, but Zephirin decides against dropping him off somewhere in the general vicinity of his street. ]

I wouldn't advertise it.

[ Carefully, Zephirin leads them along the path; the ground is slippery with puddles and dead leaves, and the trees lining it block out what little light is left on so dreary a day. At last they come to a stop beside his car, a sleek silver sedan — with a couple of fallen leaves clinging to the roof. Keeping the umbrella in place, Zephirin unlocks and opens the passenger side door at the front for Francel to get in first. The car's interior is spotless, free of clutter. ]

If you like to listen to the radio or music, go ahead.

[the car seems so clean that francel feels a little ashamed to get into it with wet shoes. still, he'd rather not keep zephirin in the rain for longer than necessary, so he slips into the passenger's seat with little hesitation. he smiles at zephirin as the professor closes the door. the car isn't exactly what francel imagined, but somehow, it suits the man.]

Do you not normally listen to the radio when you drive?

[ The mats underneath their soles are easily cleaned, and Zephirin doesn't look bothered by the state of their shoes or the water that his umbrella tracks in when he puts it in the back. In the driver's seat, he opens a compartment near the dashboard to let Francel look through the mix of CDs inside, starting the car then and slowly backing out of the parking space. ]

Not normally, no. It's a different matter when I have passengers.

[ Who might enjoy the option and prefer it to silence. Soon they're on the road, and soon after that, they're caught in wet weather traffic. ]

Are you warm enough?

[francel prefers to have something to listen to, even in someone else's car, but he doesn't want to be terribly obnoxious if zephirin is more accustomed to driving in silence. the mix of cds he keeps in his car is eclectic to say the least — francel suspects they do not reflect the man's real music taste, and is perhaps curated by his friends — but he chooses a selection of uplifting piano performances, all composed in the same modern, airy style. he sets the volume a little lower, so that he can clearly hear zephirin's voice over the music.]

Yes, I'm fine. Thank you for asking.

[despite this sudden burst of formality, francel lapses into a giggle immediately afterward.]

...I-I'm sorry! It's just — you're so much more kind than I thought you would be. It makes me really happy.

[ Francel's choice is in fact a CD that Zephirin himself enjoys — it's a go-to in a traffic jam, one situation made more bearable with some musical accompaniment. Today's traffic doesn't seem that bad yet, but it's crawling along around the typically busiest intersections.

Without taking his eyes off the road, Zephirin smiles his approval, mouth curving slightly, before he makes a soft sound almost a laugh in response to Francel's confession. ]

Most of us share one goal. Rest assured, it isn't to see our students squirm.

[ Chariberts are the exception. ]

I know, I know... but that doesn't mean everyone is so kind.

[looking at francel, one might be suddenly struck by the thought that it really would be easy to kidnap and hold him for ransom, or else just keep him locked away forever. the boy is completely at ease even in the passenger seat of an unfamiliar car; he leans back against the headrest, eyes closed, listening to the music. his seatbelt is wrapped securely around his hips. zephirin's soft, amused breath-laugh seems to linger in his ears.]

...You really didn't need to do this for me.

[ Waiting at a red light, Zephirin permits himself a glance in Francel's direction. There, he finds no trace of the boy's earlier nervousness; Francel appears relaxed, comfortable where he is.

Even so, the boy isn't carelessly trusting. Rather, any lack of self-preservation seems to stem from a lack of self-worth.

Zephirin averts his gaze, turning back to the road. The light changes, and the car rolls into motion, escaping to a side street. ]

Perhaps I intend to abduct you.

[ His retort, he realizes, borders on disregarding the rules of conduct in student-teacher interactions. ]

[francel's eyes open at that comment, but he doesn't seem offended or horrified, even when the car pulls into a side street. instead, he is playful, and mildly curious. he smiles, looking at zephirin from the corner of his eye.]

Oh no. Whatever shall I do? If you're going to abduct me, you'll need a place to hide me...

[ Choosing these quieter streets is nothing more than a maneuver to get around the worst of the heavier traffic, but it's not a commonly used route to their destination. Nevertheless, Francel evidently trusts Zephirin enough to continue joking, confident that he isn't in any danger of being kidnapped and held for ransom in a dark basement or a shack deep in the woods. His playfulness invites more of the same, though Zephirin keeps a perfectly straight face. ]

Regrettably, my apartment wasn't built with the space for secret rooms. There is the kitchen cupboard, I suppose...

I don't think I'd fit in the kitchen cupboard, but I definitely fit in the closet.

[that is absolutely a joke at the expense of his sexuality. a slightly mischievous grin steals over his babyfaced features. if he were a little more brave he'd probably add something like and you can tie me up too, but he's not going to make such a brazen pass at a teacher he just met.]

My parents probably wouldn't pay too much for me, anyway. I've got a terrible return on investment.

Edited 2017-10-17 15:03 (UTC)

[ Another two streets later, they've made it to Francel's neighbourhood, and Zephirin pulls over for the moment to check a map on his phone. ]

That's no issue. My thinking was that I would gain a guinea pig to test my former roommate's recipes.

[ Francel seems fond of self-deprecating humour. It's not for Zephirin to comment on the subject of closets, nor that of Mr. and Mrs. Haillenarte's expectations; for Francel's sake, however, he hopes that the boy doesn't live in fear of his family's reaction. ]

I get fed?

[francel asks this question with so much delight and wonderment that one might suppose he has never been fed before in all his life. he clasps his hands over his chest in mock amazement.]

Oh, you're too kind!

[ Zephirin steers the car back onto the road — there are just a few more streets between them and Last Vigil's gates. Despite his amusement as Francel increasingly seems a different person compared to the timid boy visiting Zephirin's office, he feels compelled to pursue an honest question of his own, made aware that Francel often has time to himself, not by choice. ]

You don't prefer to order takeout or live on instant noodles, I hope.

[ Although that would be a step up from forgetting to eat altogether. ]

[the boy shakes his head, turning his head so that he stares straight ahead, though he isn't watching the road so much as one particularly fat raindrop that is rolling down the window, chasing and engulfing other raindrops in its path.]

No, I can sort of cook... but if I'm busy studying or whatever, I just eat whatever's in the house. You know, like... crackers... or cookies...

[things that don't require the use of a stove, in other words. or even a microwave.]

Edited 2017-10-20 21:04 (UTC)

[ Zephirin's former roommate would be appalled. Zephirin, for his part, understands prioritizing work, but he falls silent, pensive. There is no real need for him to intervene. Francel is accustomed to being left to his own devices, capable of resisting resorting to crackers and cookies, and free to invite friends over for company.

And yet, as Last Vigil comes into view and he parks the car near the gates, Zephirin finds himself oddly regretful to see their conversation end. Retrieving his umbrella, he holds it out for Francel to take. ]

Here.

Hm? Oh...

[really, francel should refuse. he doesn't need the umbrella, not really — he can change out of his wet clothing as soon as he's home — but the thing is that he understands immediately. he wants to see zephirin again. and this will give him an excuse to come back.

hesitating only for a moment, francel slowly reaches out and takes the proffered umbrella. his expression is tight and somehow hard to read.]

...I'll bring it back to you tomorrow, then?

My office hours are the same as today's.

[ With that, their appointment is arranged. Francel is delivered nearly to his door, safe and sound, but Zephirin waits until the boy disappears on the other side of the gates before he leaves for his apartment.

As promised, Francel receives an email the next day — albeit one that doesn't confirm his tutor yet. Instead, Zephirin will explain the matter when they meet in the afternoon. ]

[it is not raining, not anymore, but still, francel dashes from the math & sciences building to the liberal arts center as fast as his long legs can carry him. in the elevator, he tries to smooth out his appearance as best as possible — he fiddles with the buttons on his shirt, loosening them, buttoning them again. he can't decide how he should leave them.

in the end, the elevator doors open as he has undone them to the second button again, and francel tries to slow his walk as he makes his way to zephirin's door. he tries to play it calm. all the same, his ears seem to be upturned in excitement as he knocks on zephirin's door and pokes his head inside...]

Professor? Are you busy?

[ Zephirin knew roughly when to expect Francel, and so he planned his work and other appointments around it. The boy announces himself as he did the previous day, but with far less trepidation; today he merely looks windswept and somehow like an excitable puppy again, no longer subdued, his strange mood as they parted ways dispelled. ]

Francel. [ Looking up from his screen, Zephirin beckons Francel inside to take a seat. Today, he doesn't ask the boy to close the door, trusting him to remember yesterday's instructions. ] Thank you for coming.

No, thank you for calling me.

[francel closes the door quietly behind him, though only because he enjoys the prospect of privacy with handsome professor de valhourdin. as he sits down he remembers that the umbrella in his hand isn't his, and — smiling — holds it up.]

I, ah — I brought your umbrella back! Thank you for that, too.

[ Francel's reward is a smile as the umbrella changes hands and Zephirin places it aside, underneath his desk. ]

You've kept your promise — I'm sorry to tell you that I couldn't keep mine. We have fewer tutors this semester, and unfortunately, their available time slots don't line up with yours.

[ He pauses briefly, not so long that it should draw out Francel's likely dismay. ]

However, we could agree on a time to meet each week and go over your work then.

Oh, that's good!

[francel cannot help but bubble over with relief, which likely seems odd given the disappointing news that zephirin has just shared. he tries to justify himself, but maybe he plays a little too much of his hand while doing so...]

I mean... truth be told, I wanted you to be my tutor anyway...

[ It's as if Francel is not only relieved that he won't struggle through Professor de Leusignac's course without help, but because Zephirin is his single option. The boy's response, the complete opposite of dismay, earns him another one of Zephirin's quiet almost-laughs. ]

In that case, we'll hold our first session next week, unless you have something to discuss sooner. I'll book a room in advance.

[that promising phrase i'll book a room in advance lingers in francel's mind... it would be so nice in certain contexts... like a lover's rendezvous... or a married couple's vacation... or a romantic weekend getaway...

pushing his fantasies aside, francel clears his throat and tries to nod solemnly.]

Okay. Then... I'll try to prepare a list of questions to ask you. Oh, maybe I'll bring cookies...

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