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

[are we friends, then? francel desperately wants to ask, but that would be a little too much, and it would put zephirin in the unenviable position of having to assure them that the friendship is mutual. one thought spirals into another, however, and a small frown soon tugs at the corners of francel’s soft lips.]

What if my friends grow tired of me...?

[ Zephirin's attempt at humour falls flat. Suddenly, Francel sounds very young and vulnerable, somehow forlorn, a boy who expects to be discarded and forgotten. They've stopped to wait before crossing the road, and Zephirin's gaze comes to rest on Francel. ]

Then I would rethink calling them friends and go back to carrying an umbrella.

[ On the other side of the road, as they take the path to the liberal arts center, Zephirin deftly undoes his coat's buttons and shrugs out of it, offering Francel the garment. The shirt he wears underneath won't keep out the chilly breeze, but he wasn't drenched yesterday, unlike Francel. ]

[zephirin's advice — if it was intended as advice — is sound, though it doesn't quite take the sting out of francel's current situation. he nearly begins wallowing in his own sadness when zephirin's coat suddenly offers its warmth to his back. francel blinks, his hands reflexively drawing the coat around his shoulders, though his arms aren't through the sleeves, and zephirin could still take his coat back if he wanted to.]

...Zephirin? You — You aren't cold?

I could ask you the same.

[ They'll be out of the cold soon, and it isn't unbearable in the meantime, minor discomfort until Zephirin's body acclimatizes itself to losing the warmth of his coat. Near the building, Zephirin makes for his car instead of the entrance — there's nothing in his office that he needs to collect and take home with him — but before they reach it, a dark-haired young man walking towards them stops in his tracks with a comical double-take and calls out to Francel. "Francel? Fancy meeting you here, old boy!" Blatantly curious, he looks Zephirin up and down. ]

[francel feels his heart sink into his stomach. it isn't that he dislikes emmanellain — but emmanellain is a very poor example of what kind of company he keeps, and francel wants very badly for zephirin to think that he keeps good (or at least decent) company. he draws zephirin's coat even more tightly around himself, though somehow this only calls attention to the fact that he is not wearing his own coat.]

...Hi, Emm. Are you going to class?

[please let him say yes, he thinks, and be on his way.]

[ Emmanellain's attention returns to Francel, something that might be embarrassment colouring his expression. The next moment, he bursts into laughter, as if Francel has shared some exceptionally hilarious joke. "I'm getting the feeling that you're trying to tell me something... Anyway, are you going to class?" He holds his hand out for Zephirin to shake. "Emmanellain de Fortemps! Francel and I go way back — don't we?" ]

Zephirin. [ The handshake is firm and reserved on Zephirin's end, grandiose pumping on Emmanellain's. ] Francel and I met yesterday.

[francel groans internally, and is not sure which is worse — the fact that emmanellain appears to be settling in for a long conversation, or the fact that zephirin has rather unfortunately reinforced the idea that they have only just met. (which is true, but still!)]

We... I don't have class. I'm done for the day.

[that's all he'll admit to in regards to emmanellain's going way back remark.]

[ "Ah, an early weekend, I see!" Setting Zephirin's hand free from his grip, Emmanellain descends upon Francel, seemingly oblivious to the younger boy's inner despair. "Exciting plans on the horizon? Speaking of which, it's been too long since Fortemps and Haillenarte had any kind of get-together... We really need to fix that — think of Lani, if nothing else, deprived of my company all this time!"

Although Emmanellain's one-sided prattling is harmless, to Zephirin, Francel's desire to shake off his lively friend is plain. ]

[francel's desire to escape is written in the plain line of his mouth — he is keeping his expression far too neutral for him to be feeling truly neutral.]

We should absolutely have a get-together. [he says, in the tone of someone who plans to board the next flight to costa del sol as soon as is humanly possible.] Why don't we hash out the details by text?

[it's a desperate gamble, and one born of his desire to be doing this anyway — but francel takes zephirin's hand, rather pointedly, and directs a frosty smile in emmanellain's direction.]

I'll be free to plan something later tonight.

[ Emmanellain's eyes widen; he seems stunned into temporary speechlessness, gaping openly at the sight of Francel boldly holding hands with someone he's known for a day. Finally, he collects himself to remark, "That's... rather pessimistic, old boy. Text me when you're done, you're both invited." Already turning to go, Emmanellain waves over his shoulder. "Well, have fun, break a leg, and so forth!"

Zephirin leaves his goodbye at a nod, his hand still clasped in Francel's, his own expression deliberately neutral. ]

...What the hell was pessimistic about that?!

[as frustrated with emmanellain as ever, francel buries his face in his hands, which necessitates breaking the hand-holding with zephirin. after a moment, he realizes what he's done, and looks up with an expression of sudden panic.]

...Oh! Er —

[he pauses and blanches.]

I — I'm so sorry, that was terribly rude of me, I just, er, I wanted him to go away, so I —

[ Thankfully, Emmanellain is no longer within earshot to explain whatever conclusion he jumped to about Francel's plans for the night, and Zephirin keeps any guesses to himself. Francel's composure makes a swift exit, too, however. ]

Improvised. [ Now Zephirin's expression changes, a small smile on his lips. He resumes leading the way to his car. ] It was effective — but is he likely to contact you later?

Er... he most likely will, yes. And he'll most likely have more than just a few questions... but he's easier to deal with over the phone.

[sighing with relief over the fact that zephirin does not seem angry over the gesture, francel settles into pace beside him once more. he is warmer now for having zehpirin's coat around him, but he is afraid that zephirin is growing cold.]

His family lives across the road from mine, so we were close in our youth. And I think he's got a thing for my sister, which makes everything really awkward.

Ah. You "go way back", as he put it.

[ Francel's tactics to drive off Emmanellain are treated as nothing that disrupts the flow of his interactions with Zephirin, but Zephirin's thoughtful silence might compete with the awkwardness that Francel mentions. He breaks it when he unlocks his car. ]

Perhaps I should have thought to provide you with an escape route before you were forced to resort to drastic measures.

[unprompted, francel walks around the front end of the car to the passenger's side, where he patiently waits for zephirin to unlock the passengers' doors as well.]

Huh? What sort of escape route?

[ Opening the door for Francel before he takes his seat behind the wheel, Zephirin shrugs. Inside the car, yesterday's CD is waiting in the player. ]

Something mundane and uninteresting. [ Something that wouldn't appeal to Emmanellain's nosiness, though it doesn't inconvenience Zephirin in any way to be Francel's excuse in order to avoid Emmanellain. ] I'm sorry to hear that your idea may backfire.

It's okay. I'll think of something.

[what's the worst-case scenario, really? that emmanellain tells his entire family that he was on a date with a man he'd just met a day ago? honestly, the thought that emmanellain might blab and let everybody know that he's gay is actually... a little bit of a relief. it'd spare him the trouble of having to announce it himself.

francel gets into the passenger's seat and dutifully clicks his seatbelt into place.]

...Profe — er — Zephirin? You don't have a girlfriend, do you?

Edited 2017-11-12 00:18 (UTC)

[ As Zephirin starts the car, the CD begins to play its light, pleasant melodies from the first track — it's up to Francel to change it to the point where they left off, but the boy has something else on his mind. Not on the road yet, Zephirin has a moment's time to glance at Francel. The question is sudden and personal, but justifiable. ]

I don't. What your friend believes he saw won't get back to anyone on my end.

[ There is no one in Zephirin's life to hurt with gossip, whether girlfriend or boyfriend, husband or wife. ]

[francel should not smile, but he smiles all the same. he smiles for the knowledge that zephirin is not beholden to any other — but he also smiles because zephirin has correctly guessed at the pretense behind his question.]

That's good. I was worried I'd have to apologize. [that makes it sounds like he doesn't want to apologize, so he adds:] And if I did, I'd have to do it right away.

[sufficiently reassured, francel leans forward and timidly skips a few tracks. he adjusts the track volume with equal timidity. his hesitation is rather cute — it seems as though he's not entirely certain of which buttons perform the functions he's looking for — when at last he's satisfied, he settles back into his seat with a tiny and mildly smug smirk.]

I appreciate it.

[ Why Francel now resembles a contented cat, smiling to himself, remains his secret. For a while, Zephirin drives without making conversation, focused on the familiar route to travel, letting Francel listen to the music playing. It's a companionable silence, and one could think that they were friends of considerably longer than a day.

At a traffic light, Zephirin speaks up — what he has learned of Francel's family leads him to deem it necessary to be prepared. ]

...Should you need support, I'm willing to give you my number.

...You mean, if Emmanellain says anything weird? I'll probably be okay, but...

[but he wants zephirin's number, even if they might never have conversations that are anything less than professional. francel seems to mull his thoughts over for a moment, and then comes up with an appropriate excuse.]

It might be nice... for tutoring. In case I'm late to an appointment or something.

[ When Zephirin pulls over outside Last Vigil's gates today, in place of lending Francel an umbrella, he makes good on his offer, reciting his personal contact number for the boy to save onto his phone. In an ideal situation, Francel won't need to use it — he won't face difficulties at home, and he won't run late for a tutoring session or cancel it last minute. ]

I'll see you next week. [ Before Zephirin gets out of the car to help Francel with the door while his coat is still in Francel's possession in addition to the boy's own belongings, he slips his CD back into its case, holding it out to Francel then. ] You were interested in the rest of the songs?

Oh! Y-Yes...

[francel's bag is slung over his shoulders beneath the coat; he still has yet to pull it on over his arms. he's quite forgotten that he's even wearing it by the time zephirin presents the CD to him. perplexed, francel takes the CD with both hands, then realizes that doesn't leave him any arms with which to give the coat back.]

I... I'll give this back to you next time we meet, then?

[the coat chooses to fall off his shoulders on its own at that point.]

A-Ah — and I'll give this back to you right now! I'm sorry...

No harm done.

[ Zephirin moves swiftly, catching his coat and preventing its slipping all the way to the ground. Smoothly, he slides his arms back into its sleeves and adjusts it around his shoulders. He leaves it unbuttoned. ]

I would welcome your thoughts on the CD when you return it.

[ Their interactions are not strictly professional — they quickly strayed towards something surprisingly comfortable, at least in those moments when Francel isn't flustered, and Zephirin finds that he anticipates their developing routine of next times. A routine in the making itself, he finishes seeing Francel home the same way as the previous day, waiting until the boy has made it past the gates before continuing homeward.

Meanwhile, Francel's hapless phone is bombarded with a series of messages from Emmanellain's number, all reminders to get in touch — or the beginnings of Emmanellain's fishing for news. ]

[francel dodges emmanellain's fishing with practiced grace — and the self-restraint of one who knows better than to rise to the bait. he avoids most of emmanellain's more pointed questions easily enough. all francel will admit to is that zephirin is his french tutor (never mind that the question of his learning french has fallen to the wayside and he has quite forgotten about his pressing need to survive leusignac’s class). he leaves out the part where zephirin is a professor at the college. that would give emmanellain entirely too much to talk about.

one way or another, though — and despite francel's best evasive maneuvers — emmanellain manages to wheedle the beginnings of a get-together out of the poor youngest haillenarte. francel promises emmanellain that he will invite laniaitte — but more confusing is that emmanellain is prodding him to bring zephirin as well...]

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