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

But not scary.

[ Zephirin may be smart, and Francel may have been nervous to approach him at first, but even he can't be intimidating now, nibbling on cookies from Francel's box. The jam cookie waits cupped in his hand. ]

Nevertheless, I hope you'll consider taking what I've said on board instead.

...Mm, you're not scary.

[the warm, bright smile that spreads across francel's face — sunshine through the clouds — would be disarming even without the context of his complimenting zephirin. in context, it is a smile to melt one's heart, even on the coldest of winter days.]

I feel really relaxed when I talk to you.

[ Had Zephirin opted for another chocolate chip cookie, the chocolate chips would soon melt onto his palm. He hasn't forgotten the cookie he holds, but it remains whole as his eyes linger on the trusting smile that blossoms on Francel's lips and lights up the boy's entire expression, dispelling all traces of gloom and dread.

Perhaps it's an accomplishment that a boy like Francel finds Zephirin's company relaxing. ]

Enough to believe me over Professor de Leusignac?

[ A pleased Zephirin has something in common with a cat curled up in a sunny spot, serenely licking its paws. ]

[if zephirin is a sun-basking cat licking his paws, francel is a small, stubby-legged kitten come to curl up beside him, seeking attention and company. the boy's smile lingers as he stares at the near-imperceptible curl to zephirin's lips.]

Maybe not always! But when he yells at me, I'll try to keep you in mind.

And if we keep meeting after class, I guess you'll know if I've been crying...

[ Though Francel's smile doesn't falter, Zephirin's mouth straightens into a line as his brow furrows then. Francel is not the first student to struggle in a class that Charibert teaches, nor will he be the last, not while the man keeps his job, but he is the first student to admit it so candidly to Zephirin. ]

...What has he said to you?

[ Beneath a veneer of calm, the question injects a strange edge into Zephirin's tone. ]

Hm? Er... nothing in particular...

[the kitten stops in its tracks, startled; francel's smile fades slowly as he realizes that zephirin is concerned about him, but there isn't anything to be concerned about, in francel's view. he tries to wave zephirin's worries away with his hands.]

Um, it's not — I don't cry all the time in his class or anything! It was just this one time... I think he was actually joking. You know, it's his sense of humor. I answered something incorrectly and he said — what was it? Ah — "This is why no one will ever love you."

[francel forces a laugh, but it sounds just the tiniest bit hollow.]

So, um, it was totally a joke. But I'd actually just gotten dumped the day before, so I took it really seriously and I started crying... it was really embarrassing. Professor de Leusignac was actually kind of nice about it, though? I mean, he said, "Are you really going to ugly-cry in my classroom?" and he sent me outside, but he gave me a pack of tissues, so...

[ If Francel is a kitten, Zephirin the cat has come to include him in his territory, driven by a sense of responsibility for a student taken under his wing. Charibert could claim that his insults are tough love, but there is a middle ground that neither coddles students nor crushes their spirit.

Zephirin's frown is slower to fade than Francel's smile. ]

He may have been joking, but to my knowledge, a good joke should be funny.

Some people laughed...

[retreating from the problem, francel finally succumbs to switching his phone screen on for a moment, just to look at the notifications — but of course every message is a nagging one from emmanellain. he switches it off again.]

...Um... by the way, this might bad timing, but... my friend from last time, Emmanellain...

He seems rather serious about throwing a party, and he asked me to invite you. Would you be interested at all? It wouldn't be anything too rowdy or too formal. Just a... a get-together with our families and some people we know from school.

[ Some people only cause Zephirin's frown to darken, and so the change of subject to Emmanellain's plans seems poorly received. By now, the jam cookie is unlikely to make it to Zephirin's mouth; Zephirin curls his fingers around it, folding his arms atop the table.

Discussing Charibert's class any further is of no help, however. It's obvious that Francel wants the topic closed. ]

A party?

[ Zephirin's tone retains its clipped edge until, at last, it smooths out into something too calm, even flat. ]

Your parents would be there?

Oh! No, not our parents. Just us kids. So our brothers and sisters and friends like that. They’re all working, though. I mean, only Emm and I are still in college.

[unsure of how to approach zephirin’s seemingly sour mood, francel says too much, mile-a-minute. in his haste to turn the conversation towards something less dark, he leaves his elbows up on the table.]

And you’re not that much older than me, are you, Zephirin?

[ Francel's explanation allows Zephirin to gauge Emmanellain's expectations. A party with Francel's parents present would lean towards a more formal affair, perhaps uncomfortably so — unsurprisingly, Emmanellain's "get-together" leaves them out. A party whose attendees are predominantly Emmanellain's friends would probably devolve into a rowdy gathering, but his decision to invite a stranger adds a degree of formality to an otherwise casual event.

If Zephirin accepts, what he is to Francel might become one question to field. ]

That depends. [ A guess would put Francel somewhere around his late teens to early twenties. ] I would assume that I'm closer in age to some of your siblings than your parents.

[francel was paying close attention to zephirin’s explanations in spite of his aggressive snacking, but his interest in this matter of zephirin’s age obviously outstrips any interest he had in advanced verb conjugations. he does not move, not exactly, but he watches zephirin so intently that it may well feel as though he is leaning over the desk.]

My oldest brother is thirty years old, and I am currently twenty-two. [suddenly he wonders if zephirin thinks that far too young.] I’ll be twenty-three in March.

[ Francel's gazing at Zephirin like a curious kitten focused on a dangling toy bespeaks his undisguised interest in an answer that confirms his assumption. Consistently, the boy seems younger than he is, but he is older than Zephirin estimated, a mere seven-year gap between them.

Zephirin leans back in his chair slightly, taking his arms away from the table. ]

Is your brother "much older", to you?

Ah... Stephanivien?

[francel volunteers his oldest brother's name, though zephirin has no need to hear it — like a kitten whose wiggling body belies his intent to strike.]

Not especially... He's so ridiculous that most of the time I feel as though I'm the elder brother. And thirty isn't very old at all, really. Though we do like to tease him about it, now and then.

[ Finally, though his eyes remain on Francel, his attention on the conversation, Zephirin takes a bite of the cookie in his hand. As if its taste has lifted his mood, all displeasure is gone from his expression, something warmer than neutrality there as Francel opens up a little more about his family. ]

I see... If I'm able to accept the invitation, I look forward to meeting him. Has Emmanellain given you a date and time?

[after watching the way zephirin’s mood seems to lift after biting into his cookie at last, francel finds himself wondering if his baking skills are better than he thought. he smiles in relief.]

Knowing him, he is planning something for Saturday evening, at our homes. Not too late, of course. Six o’ clock or so, I’d imagine. I can give you a finalized date after I speak to him later... Would that work for you?

I'll keep that evening free. Janlenoux has mentioned some plans of his own, but as they're nothing concrete yet, I don't think his will clash with Emmanellain's. Are you interested?

[ The tutoring session has turned into a chat between friends. Checking the time, Zephirin resolves to steer the conversation back to Francel's coursework at the end of their allocated hour without upsetting the boy. ]

In Janlenoux’s plans?

[again, francel’s sudden and obvious eagerness might lend the false impression that he is interested in the odd-eyed baker; in reality, he is merely excited to receive any kind of invitation from zephirin.]

Oh, I always have free time! What is he planning?

[ Now Francel perks up like a puppy anticipating a treat — Janlenoux has moved up from a source of anxiety to someone Francel seems eager to see again. The cat soaking up the sun's rays makes a return. ]

You'll hear from me when I have an update, then. Knowing Janlenoux, he would like us over for lunch or dinner, but I can't speak for Adelphel's input.

[ Adelphel's input is guaranteed, however, and Zephirin thinks it prudent to give Francel a heads-up, hoping to avoid driving him to panic the way he did at the Forgotten Baguette. ]

Adelphel... ah, that really pretty boy?

[adelphel is likely francel's age or older, but "man" somehow does not seem to accurately describe his impossibly pretty face.]

He was cute... but I got the impression that he's very aware of it...

[ Every remark is objectively true, but Zephirin only nods, confirming that Francel is thinking of the right person. ]

You're the same age, I believe. He and Janlenoux live together.

[ Which means that Adelphel must have been especially impatient to pick up his macaroons. ]

Oh, do they...?

[francel mulls this over for a moment, wondering if janlenoux and adelphel are living together or living together — but either way, it doesn't much matter, and it's not terribly relevant to francel. suddenly, he snickers.]

Zephirin, did you get dumped for a cuter roommate?

[ The sound reminds Zephirin that Francel has a playful side, one that appears to help him lose his frequently recurring nervousness. Not above playing along this time, too, Zephirin lifts his shoulders slightly in a shrug. ]

Perhaps thirty is too old after all.

[ It had nothing to do with age or appearance, of course — Janlenoux simply agreed to Adelphel's suggestion, and as a roommate, Adelphel likely appeals to his friend's penchant for taking care of others, in ways that Zephirin does not. ]

...Thirty is just right.

[just right for what, francel does not specify. suddenly, though his playfulness does not dissipate, his confidence seems to. he draws back into his seat, giggling shyly into his hands as he holds them close to his mouth. the effect is rather as though he is a mischievous faerie laughing over a secret.]

Is it?

[ It's an odd choice of comment, if Francel means to reassure Zephirin about his desirability as a roommate. Instead, it comes off as a private joke.

Zephirin asks his question with a subtle quizzical quirk of one eyebrow, but he prefers Francel's seeming delight to imagining him in tears over his French literature class. ]

How so?

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