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

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?

Ehehehe...

[thirty is the age of peak maturity, according to some people, but for francel, at least, zephirin's age simply makes it easier to imagine the man as the calm and attractively self-sufficient bachelor he very likely is. still giggling, francel daydreams about zephirin coming home after work, taking a moment to change out of his stiff collared shirt and into something more comfortable (sweatpants, perhaps? or plaid flannel pajamas?), working on dinner in the kitchen...]

...It means your closet is really organized!

[ Once again, Francel's endearingly amusing preoccupation with Zephirin's closet rears its head. Zephirin, for his part, wears the expression of someone gratified to hear Francel's praise — the calmly smug cat finishes nibbling on his cookie. ]

Ah. Most likely, that was the problem... We were incompatible from the beginning.

[ Living with Adelphel, Janlenoux presumably picks up after his friend on a regular basis. ]

[something about zephirin's faintly pleased demeanor makes francel want to rub a finger beneath his chin and stroke him into relaxation. francel, too, takes up another cookie, although the time of their scheduled tutoring session is nearing its end — perhaps they both linger now as friends.]

Well, if you're looking for a new roommate, you'll let me know, won't you?

[ Zephirin doesn't have enough of a sweet tooth to take a fourth cookie, even if Francel's charming gesture of baking the entire batch puts him on par with Janlenoux regardless of his culinary skills. After a pause, he opens his planner to the coming week, pen in hand, but glances up from the page with a questioning look. ]

Do you have someone in mind?

[ Perhaps circumstances have changed. ]

...I was thinking that if I move out, it'll be easier for me to avoid Emmanellain.

[the fact that francel undoubtedly also wants to take a look at zephirin's organized closet is left unsaid.]

...That's too silly a reason, isn't it? Ahaha...

[ Circumstances have changed. On one hand, Emmanellain's overbearing manner shouldn't exasperate Francel into fleeing, driving him out of his own home — on the other hand, avoiding Emmanellain isn't the only benefit to moving out. ]

You know him better than I do, but he seems... persistent. [ Zephirin lowers his pen. He isn't looking for a roommate, content to live alone, but he suggests a second reason to justify Francel's idea: ] I suppose it would be easier to answer your questions after class as they come.

[taken by surprise, francel blinks, uncertain if he has truly heard the words that he just heard. he was only teasing about wanting to be zephirin's roommate — would the man truly allow a student entry to his home?]

Well.. my parents and siblings are often away at work, so I do live more or less on my own as it is. I doubt they would notice if I moved out... or, alternatively, if I moved someone in...

Another alternative could be to persuade Emmanellain to move out.

[ Francel's expressive face goes from playful to astonished, and so Zephirin adjusts his suggestions to sound less serious, concluding that the boy isn't planning to pursue his wishful thinking beyond joking about it. Should he need them, however, Francel has options. He must be aware by now that Zephirin wouldn't turn him away, despite the nature of their relationship.

Neatly, Zephirin writes the boy's name under the following Wednesday's entry in his planner. ]

Though admittedly, I don't see us as a good fit.

[ Given the choice in this hypothetical roommate search, Zephirin would choose Francel over Emmanellain. ]

Hah?! Wh-Why not?

[francel’s expressive face conveys hurt bewilderment. he has, evidently, misinterpreted zephirin’s remark, and thinks that he is the bad fit for zephirin's hypothetical roommate.]

Edited 2017-12-12 00:29 (UTC)

[ It's not the reaction that Zephirin was aiming for, to say the least. In turn, Zephirin's face assumes a look of mildly puzzled dismay. His sense of humour is apparently something of an atrophied muscle... ]

...What leads you to disagree?

I — I thought you liked me...

[francel seems like a balloon suddenly punctured, floating in zigzags through the air towards the ground. instead of crumpling to the floor, he hunches over in his chair, obviously upset despite what seems to be an attempt to keep a straight face.]

[ Francel the punctured balloon, deflating dramatically, his voice almost inaudible, swiftly triggers the realization that there's been a misunderstanding. Zephirin reaches across the table, laying his hand upon Francel's forearm, only briefly, to prompt the boy to look up.

Bluntly, before Francel progresses to a state any more crushed than this, he clarifies: ]

I meant Emmanellain.

...Oh.

[with those mere three words, zephirin pumps a tiny bit of air into francel's deflated form. francel looks up — his eyes gleam with a faint wetness.]

...Okay.

[he sniffs.]

[ Thankfully, they're not having their conversation in the middle of a crowded classroom, and unlike Charibert, Zephirin doesn't comment on the tears in Francel's eyes, though the sight brings another frown to his face. Without a word, he slips his hand inside the coat hanging over the back of his chair, takes out a packet of tissues, and places it on the table in front of Francel. Averting his gaze for Francel to compose himself in peace, Zephirin then packs up his belongings. ]

[though francel delicately extracts a single tissue and uses it to dab at his eyes, zephirin's silence makes him feel anxious, unwanted. it isn't as though he needs to be comforted, but — he is simply afraid of being abandoned, and he apologizes so fervently that a passersby might think that zephirin had specifically asked him to beg for forgiveness.]

I-I'm sorry... I spoiled the mood, didn't I? I'm so sorry...!

[ Zephirin's gaze flicks back toward Francel. The room isn't perfectly soundproof, and passersby will hear Francel's apologies before long — the boy sounds on his way to crying in earnest.

Once more, Zephirin reaches across the table, opting to intervene somewhat inappropriately: he brings his index finger close to Francel's mouth. ]

No. [ Shaking his head, Zephirin takes his hand away. ] I apologize... My joking was no better than Professor de Leusignac's comments.

[ Francel's recent breakup may be to blame for his jumping to the wrong conclusion, his emotions still fragile. ]

[some less rational part of francel whispers to him that he's ruined everything now, that he looks like a dreadful fool, that zephirin must surely hate him. the finger near his mouth, however, brings his train of negative thoughts to a sudden halt. francel blinks in surprise, wide-eyed and small-mouthed, and stammers out a denial.]

...N-No... that's not true. Professor de Leusignac meant to tease me... in this case, I just misunderstood.

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