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

[ Zephirin's first thought is that Francel feels dizzy, if full of bliss to have tasted this brand of apple juice — then the words Francel juice leave the boy's mouth, and his delicate fingers prod at his flushed cheeks, and Zephirin's brows rise upward once more. A strange expression crosses his face.

Fortunately, his amusement doesn't manifest as a fit of laughter, successfully stifled before it develops into something truly discernible. ]

Would you object to diluting yourself with a glass of water?

Water sounds good.

[if only because the apple juice has whetted his throat for more, and cold water sounds immensely refreshing right about now. francel remembers that there was water at the beverage bar, but right now, he wants to be spoiled and guided there. he stares expectantly at zephirin, stretching out his hand...

please... take his hand... and guide him there...]

[ Not dizzy after all, Francel looks fine to walk to the beverage bar and get himself some water unassisted, but he stands there with his hand outstretched, as if Zephirin has a glass ready to give him, and although Zephirin could ask the boy to wait where he is, he chooses instead to acquiesce to Francel's unspoken request — it saves them both some time. Taking Francel by the hand, his other hand on the small of Francel's back, poised to steady him if he should stumble, Zephirin leads him to their destination.

Once there, filling a glass with water necessitates letting go of Francel, who needs his own hands to hold it while he drinks. ]

[francel doesn’t seem to mind having his hand dropped so that zephirin can fix him a glass of water, but he holds it with both hands, as if he has suddenly found himself with a child’s fragile fingers, and he requires the assistance of his palms to keep the glass steady.

after a few successive swallows, he has the glass half-drained, but he doesn’t seem to want to drink any more. he lowers the glass to his chest and smiles.]

...Are we going home yet?

Edited 2018-01-03 22:08 (UTC)

[ To lessen the impression that he is hovering near Francel like a bodyguard or an overprotective parent, Zephirin fills a second glass with water, sipping from it as he observes the goings-on around them, rather than staring at Francel's manner of drinking his water, charming though it is. Francel's question pulls his gaze away from Haurchefant's performing an odd gesture with both arms raised in the air, in time to catch Francel's smile.

The party is Emmanellain's idea of fun, Zephirin supposes — it isn't Francel's. ]

...If you're ready to leave, then yes.

[ Setting his glass aside, Zephirin offers Francel his arm for support. It would be polite to thank their host for the evening, to say goodbye to the other guests, but Emmanellain seems preoccupied, and Francel's siblings will head home themselves eventually. ]

Good night, everyone! G'night, g'night, g'night...

[francel mumbles unheard farewells to his friends and family, clutching zephirin's wrist against his chest as if his professor's arm is his most beloved childhood toy. he leans on zephirin as he walks, not heavily, but just enough to maximize the contact between their bodies.

(of all of the guests at the party, it is only aurvael who notices that zephirin and francel have chosen to leave early. he half-turns in their direction as they make their way toward the door, but his face is expressionless, and he doesn't seem to approve or disapprove either way. after a moment, he loses interest, and turns back toward the acquaintance he is speaking with.)

once outside, francel lets out a sigh, disappointed by the cold air lashing at his warm cheeks. he pulls zephirin's blazer tighter around himself, though it's already a snug fit on account of his thick sweater.]

Nnnn.

[ On the way out, Zephirin manages to unhook his coat to retrieve from the stand in the foyer, but with Francel currently attached to him, it stays draped over his free arm. Pressed against Zephirin, Francel makes a soft, warm barrier between the cold breeze and that side of Zephirin's body — Zephirin's exposed side feels the chill more keenly for it, and even Francel isn't unaffected. ]

Which house is yours?

[ A quick sweep of Zephirin's gaze from building to building accompanies the question before Zephirin turns back to Francel. ]

[francel blinks up at zephirin, slow and unhurried. the strange stillness of his expression belies his understanding. a flicker in the boy's eyes suggests he knows precisely what is being asked of him; his flushed and innocent face implies otherwise.

he smiles.]

We're going home together.

[ Francel himself has become an obstacle to taking him home safely to let him sleep off the night there, and Zephirin has no choice but to adjust his modified plans. In the morning, perhaps, the boy will be in better shape to notify his family of his whereabouts. ]

...Yes. This way.

[ Zephirin guides Francel as far as the locked gates, which pose another obstacle. ]

Do you have an access card, Francel?

Mm-hmm! It's me. I'm the access card.

[what francel means by this, apparently, is that the card slot to the gate is also equipped with a fingerprint reader — which doesn't always work, on account of its fussiness in bad weather conditions, but fortunately it spares francel the effort of fumbling for his wallet (which is just in his sweater pocket anyway). he presses his hand to the scanner; it takes a moment, but eventually it beeps and allows the gates to slide open.]

We're fancy here.

[ The "fancy" security gates behind them, without the need for another change of plans to interrupt the party and approach one of Francel's siblings for help, the rest of the way is clear. Thankfully, Zephirin's car is where he parked it earlier in the evening, still intact. One-handed, he unlocks and opens the passenger side door, waiting there until Francel is comfortably seated, his seatbelt fastened. ]

We don't have far to travel, but if you feel tired, go ahead and sleep.

[francel giggles as he slides into the passenger's seat and obediently pulls his seatbelt on. this isn't his first time riding in zephirin's car, by now, but he seems oddly overjoyed, as if this is some fun new adventure and he cannot wait to see more of the city streets.]

I'm going home with Zephinyan...!

[at least he's happy...]

[ If Zephirin finds it strange to be given a cutesy nickname, he masks it, starting the car and setting out on their journey. Every so often, when stopping at traffic lights permits it, he checks on Francel — it's unlikely that the boy is in any danger, but Zephirin can't be certain that Francel's body takes no issue with the amount of alcohol he has consumed.

Naturally, too, there are other consequences to drinking juice and water on top of several glasses of wine.

The trip home ends before long, just past Saint Reinette's Park, though they have one final leg to cross between the underground parking lot and the apartment complex proper, between them and the front door. Zephirin stands ready to help Francel out of the car, to the elevator and beyond. ]

[fortunately (or unfortunately?) for zephirin, francel's excitement seems to wind down by the third or fourth time they are stuck at an absurdly long red light, and by the time zephirin comes around the passenger side to help him out of the car, the boy has, indeed, fallen asleep. or passed out. it's hard to tell which.

his expression is placidly content. he seems as though he'll remain fairly well-behaved, at any rate... perhaps zephirin will simply have to carry the boy, either in his arms or upon his shoulders.]

[ Francel's breaths are warm puffs of air tickling Zephirin's palm when Zephirin checks his breathing, and the boy looks too peaceful to disturb. It would be much easier for Zephirin to carry him on his back, if Francel were awake and able to hold on to his shoulders; as it is, Zephirin's best option is to gather Francel into his arms. Leaving his coat in the car, he locks the doors with a press of a button on his keychain, and carefully navigates the path to his apartment on the fourth floor, privately hoping for few neighbours out and about.

Mercifully, the elevator is empty, as is the hallway outside. A small light set on a timer illuminates enough of the apartment's interior that the very last steps left to take don't end in painful collisions with pieces of furniture in the dark.

Zephirin places Francel upon his bed, moving onto selecting clean pajamas and a fresh toothbrush for the boy to use. ]

[francel's impromptu nap does not last the duration of the entire night. he wakes after an hour, mostly on account of the fact that the belt loops of his jeans feel uncomfortably tight around his hips, and he decides that he would like to use the restroom — but when he opens his eyes the scenery is unfamiliar. the bed he is lying on is also unfamiliar, though strangely more comfortable than his real bed at home.

francel sits up properly and rubs his eyes.]

...Where...?

[ Zephirin's bedroom is dark, the curtains drawn, but a light burns further down the hall, coming from the kitchen. There, Zephirin has just finished drying some dishware to put away. His footsteps soon grow louder, then stop; for a moment, he stands silhouetted in the doorway to the bedroom. ]

Francel. [ Entering the room, Zephirin switches on the lamp on the nightstand. ] Are you alright?

[francel nods in response to that question, hoping to put zephirin's concerns away. it takes effort and great deal of willpower, but he convinces himself to sit up in bed — too quickly, perhaps, as he presses a hand to his forehead to dispel a sudden bout of lightheadedness.]

...I'm fine.

[he... remembers mostly everything...]

...Er, thank you for putting up with me...

It was no trouble.

[ Zephirin shrugs, moving the waiting pile of garments for Francel to borrow, toothbrush on top, closer to Francel's side of the mattress. ]

"Zephinyan" may catch on... In any case, you're free to sleep here tonight, and help yourself to anything in the kitchen. The bathroom is at the end of the hall.

[ Tomorrow, should Francel finalize his plans to move in, they will have time to rearrange the apartment to accommodate two people again. ]

[blushing furiously at "zephinyan," francel scratches his cheek sheepishly and chuckles.]

I'm not hungry... I should wash up, though. Oh, are these for me?

[the bundle of clothes and toothbrush bring francel sudden joy, as though he has never been gifted with anything so fine before, though he is a rich man's son and he has no doubt never lacked for pajamas or a toothbrush in his life. he smiles, hugging the garments to his chest; they feel soft and cozy.]

I'll go get changed, then. Where should I sleep?

Here.

[ Zephirin indicates the bed. The simple checkered sheets are newly changed, retaining the subtle scent of fresh laundry. ]

I'll sleep in the living room.

[ The couch there, narrower than the bed, with considerably less leg room, will do for one night, but it's inadequate for a guest. ]

[francel is halfway to the bathroom, but he pauses and tilts his head at zephirin in response to that answer.]

...Shouldn't it be the other way around?

Would you prefer the couch?

[ Looking up from collecting his own sleep clothes, placed aside in a corner of the room, Zephirin tilts his head at Francel in kind, brows raised. ]

I don't recommend it.

[ Even Janlenoux, normally laid-back, regretted a night spent there when a visiting Adelphel claimed his bed... ]

I wouldn't mind if that would make you more comfortable...

[...though francel trails off as he says that, mostly because he is well aware that zephirin is precisely the kind of man who would not, in fact, be more comfortable sleeping comfortably upon a mattress while his guest was consigned to the couch. fidgeting, francel isn't entirely certain that the words come out of his mouth when he squeaks out a nervous:]

...W-What if we shared the bed?

If you're comfortable with it, that would be a solution.

[ A hint of surprise colours Zephirin's expression, but he agrees to Francel's suggestion without hesitation — it's a sensible compromise that spares them a prolonged discussion over their sleeping arrangements, and any concerns on Francel's part that he has inconvenienced Zephirin. If neither of them hogs the blankets, or tosses and turns, or invades the other person's space with cold feet, they'll both have a peaceful rest of the night.

Deeming the matter settled, Zephirin returns to his pajamas to change his clothes while Francel washes up. ]

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