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

[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...

[ The mention of cookies in combination with the faraway look in Francel's eyes leads Zephirin to the conclusion that the boy craves cookies at this very moment. He lifts his brows, reminded of their conversation the day before, but considers the possibility that Francel has low blood sugar to manage. ]

You should have enough time to eat beforehand... The session would run for an hour, longer if you find you need it.

Well, I meant that we could share the cookies... [he wonders if he is being too aggressive, and decides to tone himself down a little bit.] As thanks for driving me home yesterday, I mean.

Ah! Unless you don't like cookies? Or do you have any, um, dietary requirements?

[ Cookies to repay an imagined debt are a gesture that seems in keeping with Francel's personality. Zephirin holds his expression a moment longer, and then it smooths out. He reassures Francel with a shake of his head, mock-solemn himself. ]

I confess, I haven't had cookies in some time, but I have nothing against them. [ So long as they're not covered in sprinkles to litter the floor, cookies are an inoffensive snack to bring. ] I simply wondered whether your schedule includes lunch.

Oh, I usually forget to eat lunch...

[francel laughs this off as a non-issue, of course. lunch? who needs that?]

So I'll bring cookies and questions, then? And my crippling fear of Professor de Leusignac... what else, what else...

[ Who needs lunch? Somewhere, Janlenoux is horrified.

While not horrified, and admittedly not someone who has any room to talk, Zephirin returns to giving Francel a look that suggests the boy's habit of skipping lunch is very much an issue. ]

All thoughts of Professor de Leusignac are best left at the door. [ Discreetly, Zephirin glances at the time on his screen. ] I mean to take a break — would you like to join me? We can continue this over a late lunch for the both of us.

Oh! Are you sure? I'd hate to impose...

[...or so francel claims, but the pleased expression on his face suggests that he does, indeed, wish to impose. he even gathers up his things to show that he's ready to leave! he'd hate to impose.]

Where shall we go?

[ As Zephirin made the decision to invite Francel, he deems it answer enough to nod and put his coat on, heading for the door. His expression is a trace warmer for Francel's, the way it contradicts the boy's politeness. ]

What are your preferences?

[ The area isn't lacking in options — it comes down to how much time they have. ]

Let's see... I like sweets, but maybe I eat too many...

[the problem with first dates — if indeed francel can think of this as a first date, although he reminds himself that zephirin is probably straight, or just uninterested in him, and maybe even married — well, anyway, the problem with first dates is that one should never be too outlandish on a first date. francel is partial to heavy, creamy stews and other such fine fare, but, not knowing zephirin's tastes, he's hoping to select a completely inoffensive establishment.]

...There's a bakery not far from the school that sells things like... custard, and macaroons, and egg salad sandwiches... you know, there's savory food if you want something more substantial. It's got a weird name, like... the Forgotten... Baguette? Have you been there?

Edited 2017-10-23 04:09 (UTC)

[ It's nearing the time of day when the afternoon transitions into evening, closer to dinner than lunch, and it's not surprising that sweets are Francel's first thought, but a light sandwich from the bakery would be a sensible choice. Alone, Zephirin might have opted for something warm; with company, he is prepared to adjust his plans. ]

I know it reasonably well. I may be able to vouch for it.

[ The Forgotten Baguette is in fact a memorable establishment, a quaint shop and cafe with a selection of artisan bread and sundry baked goods, both sweet and savory. Though he doesn't frequent it often and hasn't done so in a while, contrary to what his answer implies, Zephirin finds the location with the ease of someone who indeed knows it well. The gentle sound of the wind-chime hanging from the bakery's door accompanies Zephirin's opening it for Francel to enter before he follows to approach the counter and the appetizing assortment to choose from waiting behind a pristine pane of glass. To one side, near the shop window, there is a small seating area. ]

[zephirin walks with a confident, easy stride quite unlike the quick, timid, squirrelly shuffle of francel's small feet. even so, francel finds it easy enough to keep up with the man. as professor and student enter the forgotten baguette together, a look of greedy hunger pulls francel's teeth against his lip — it is clearly meant for the assortment of fruit tarts and chocolate cakes that wait behind the glass counter, but he (unsuccessfully) wills his expression into neutrality as he shoots zephirin a curious look.]

What are you going to get?

[ An occasional treat alongside something more substantial does no harm, and Zephirin's gaze is amused without passing judgment, more successfully neutral than Francel's as he meets the boy's eyes and observes the poorly disguised excitement lingering there. Even so late in the day, the bakery smells inviting, of freshly baked cookies or muffins and the like. No doubt a good majority of the items on the racks before them call to Francel. ]

I was considering one of the sandwiches and a macaroon, but I'm open to your input. As for mine, I would recommend their cocoa.

[ One of the shop assistants appears behind the counter, a young man whose face isn't made for his uniform's cap or wearing his hair pulled back. He brightens upon catching sight of Zephirin. "Zephirin? You're not at your desk?" Smiling, he turns to Francel. "What can I do for you?" ]

[does the shop assistant know zephirin? francel's eyes flick towards the man's nametag, but the bakery's signature script is so loopy that he cannot make anything out beyond the first "j." taken off-guard, he stammers out the first thing that comes to mind.]

Er, could I have a slice of rolanberry cake — [godsdammit] — a-and an egg salad sandwich, please?

We'll have all of it here. Thank you, Janlenoux.

[ Janlenoux, arranging a generous slice of cake and Francel's requested sandwich on separate plates atop a tray before he reaches for another two plates to fill, glances at Zephirin. "You know you could have the same thing without paying for it anytime. If anything, you'd be the one doing me a favour." Looking from Zephirin to Francel, he seems to include the boy in his remark.

Evidently he doesn't expect an answer then and there, and he doesn't ask Zephirin for his order — either he overheard the earlier exchange or he has Zephirin's tastes memorized — and soon the tray is ready to carry to their seats. As if this is a date, Zephirin takes the liberty to pay for the lot. ]

[francel stammers out some half-hearted protest when he sees zephirin paying for his food (he is, ostensibly, wealthy and privileged, so he should, ostensibly, pay for himself), but it seems rude to interrupt janlenoux as he is processing the transaction. in the end, francel slinks to a table with zephirin, looking faintly sheepish. it occurs to him, also, that he did not order the cocoa zephirin recommended... but he simply forgot to do so.]

Um, I can pay you back in cash...

[ With their tray placed between them on the table, Zephirin takes a seat, but instead of starting on his food, he waits for Francel to sit down and recover from his apparent embarrassment. Around them, the bakery is quiet aside from the sounds of Janlenoux working behind the counter, his coworkers in the back room; it's the sort of place that sees its busiest hours in the morning and at lunchtime. ]

Should I expect it? This was my idea, I believe.

[ After all, had he not made his suggestion, Francel would have gone home for dinner. ]

But still... At least let me get your bill next time.

[looking somewhat sheepish, francel nevertheless reaches for his sandwich and his slice of cake, unwrapping the latter item from its plastic protections so he can — apparently — have his dessert before his dinner. he lowers his voice to a whisper, leans in.]

How do you know the cashier?

You've promised me cookies.

[ Calmly, even serenely, Zephirin takes up his knife and fork, and proceeds to cut his toasted cheese-and-tomato sandwich into neat, bite-sized pieces. Next time, however, implies more than their planned tutoring session — future slices of cake, perhaps.

Zephirin pauses with his fork poised above a piece of sandwich, eyes flicking up to rest on Francel's face. ]

We shared an apartment — the recipes I mentioned are his.

[he cuts his sandwiches...! somehow, that's appealing, and francel has to suppress a smile at the sight. francel, too, will eat some slippery sandwiches and buttery croissants with knife and fork — but in this case, his egg salad sandwich will stay in shape if he bites through it, and he has no plans to be dainty with his eating, at least not during this late lunch.

francel does take up a fork, however, to claim a bite of cake.]

Oh! So he was the former roommate you talked about? Did he move out to open this store?

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