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Post by Mister Stewart on Jan 3, 2011 0:16:09 GMT -8
The young man took the water with shaky hands and a little nod, sipping from it in an effort to clear his throat, to clear that odd taste from his tongue. When she began to speak, when she looked him in the eye, he listened...a little bit mystified. She was sad because...she thought she couldn't help him? She was really that worried about him that she would be so upset by his pain? He was still trying to process these odd thoughts, still trying to shake off the haze that had settled in his head...when she started speaking about herself.
He listened to her story in silence, the wildness in his eyes slowly calming to echo some of her sadness. This was...familiar territory to him. His somewhat unusual speech pattern had him called crazy many a time by other children when he was younger. But more than the being called crazy...something else she said resonated with him. Her parents had given her up? So she was an adopted child...just like him.
Once she had finished speaking, he hesitated, trying to work out what to say, what to do. He wasn't...good at this sort of thing. Wasn't good at being the one to comfort. Leaning forward, he placed the glass of water on the coffee table...then, somewhat gingerly, he reached out towards the girl. His hand hovered in the air a moment, unsure....
Then, slowly, haltingly, he placed his hand on her shoulder.
He said nothing, sitting in an awkward, nervous silence, hoping his expression would do the talking.
I understand.
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Post by Ashlin Thomas on Jan 3, 2011 0:42:24 GMT -8
When she felt a light pressure on her shoulder she turned to look at Michael. Smiling softly at him, she felt immense relief. It hadn't been a mistake to tell him then, because he understood. And maybe then she could give him the same feeling, the knowledge that there was someone that could understand. Reaching up she gave the hand on her shoulder a quick squeeze, before pulling it away. Thank you she wanted to say, but thought it would be best to stay silent on the matter. She hoped her expression would say it clearly enough.
After a moment she told him quietly "If you ever want to talk about your nightmares I'll listen. I've been told that's suppose to help." She was blushing she knew, she wasn't entirely sure why but she was. She felt like she should say something else, something . . . she wasn't even sure what. But after all that they'd both confessed it seemed like there should be something that should be said. Ash wished she knew what it was.
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Post by Mister Stewart on Jan 3, 2011 2:42:52 GMT -8
This time, when she squeezed his hand, he managed not to jerk away so quickly...waiting until she had pulled away to drop his hands back into his lap. He was stuck for words, honestly, glad of the momentary, companionable silence. He was glad, in some way, that she seemed less upset...perhaps he had done right with his little motion. Perhaps he wasn't completely hopeless at this...he didn't want to be. She was trying to help him. He wanted to do something in return...he wanted to help her, too, somehow.
Her offer shook him from his reverie...and he thought about it for a very long moment, trying to work out what he should say. He didn't...talk about his nightmares, really. Not with anyone. But...maybe...it would help? Maybe just...a little.
"...In...my dreams, there is...fire...and smoke," he mumbled, turning his eyes down to where his hands rested in his lap. Turning his eyes down to his scars. "...And...the screams stay with me...long after I have awoke." His voice and eyes were both troubled...there was certainly much more than he spoke of. Especially lately. But he couldn't quite grasp it...not enough to put it to words.
He felt the smoke in his throat again, reaching forward to retrieve the glass of water for another sip.
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Post by Ashlin Thomas on Jan 3, 2011 10:09:35 GMT -8
Frowning she wasn't quite sure what to say to Michael's confession. She'd always been told talking about one's nightmares helped, but no one ever said what the listener was suppose to say in return. How was she suppose to help make it better. She might understand being plagued by nightmares but she didn't know what Michael had gone through, and those scars certainly seemed to suggest this wasn't some hypothetical fear. When she was younger she used to hold onto Bo-Bo for comfort, the presence of the doll making her feel safe.
That was it! Maybe if Michael had something he could hold on to, something to offer him comfort he'd feel better too. It might require some lost sleep but she might even be able to make him one by the time she'd finished the modified burn paste.
"I don't know if there's anything I could say to make it better," she confessed softly. "because that sounds absolutely awful. But, well if you ever need anyone to talk to I'll be here. I'm not so good at-- at talking, but I'm a good listener I think." There was genuine compassion in her eyes, not pity, and she hoped he could see that. She wasn't sure what kind of comfort she could offer in this situation that wasn't a hug (something she suspected Michael wouldn't welcome.)
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Post by Mister Stewart on Jan 4, 2011 2:57:28 GMT -8
Catching her gaze, he caught the compassion in her eyes, in her voice...and finally, finally, he seemed to calm. He watched her for just a moment, unsure what to say - before managing a small, flimsy smile, another of his sad, small attempts to return some of the comfort she was trying to give him. It still looked a little forced, still looked as if there was something weighing in the back of his mind, pulling him back and away from really being happy, really being calm....
But it was anyone's guess if even he knew what it was.
"...Thank you, Ashlin, that is very kind...I shall...certainly have to keep that in mind." His voice still sounded rough, but much better than it had just after he had awoken. He sat there for another moment, very quiet, unsure what to do or say...until something seemed to dawn on him, his expression shifting to that of a different sort of dread.
"How long did I sleep? If I am late, I must flee....I have a schedule to keep, and Mister Stewart needs me." He looked about the room for a clock, easing the quilt off of himself and setting it carefully aside.
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Post by Ashlin Thomas on Jan 4, 2011 18:22:31 GMT -8
"Oh!" she said in surprise when Michael asked about the time. Digging into her pockets until she pulled out a small pocket watch she quickly checked the time. "It is getting rather late isn't it. . . " She showed him the watch face so he could check the time himself. "I understand, you must be very busy after all."
Getting up to show him out (that was the polite thing to do wasn't it?) she brushed some unseen dust from her pants. "Perhaps we could have tea again sometime? Properly that is, I'll make tarts." It had certainly been a rather, interesting visit. She was a little surprised at herself for telling him about the doctors, but then Michael had trusted her with a secret of his, it was only fair she return in kind. "I'll stop by in two days to deliver the solve, though if I'm not to tell Mr.Stewart the truth what should I say?" She'd never visited anyone socially before so she wasn't sure what to say as her reason for being there.
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Post by Mister Stewart on Jan 5, 2011 3:00:06 GMT -8
Sure enough, the face of the watch told him all he needed to know - he was late in getting back. Cursing himself mentally for falling asleep, he stood to prepare to leave, rolling his sleeves back down and tightening his tie again. When she suggested that they could have tea again, he gave a nod...in fact rather pleased with the idea. Despite the...strangeness, despite the exposure...he rather...liked the company.
As he pulled his coat on once more, he paused for just a moment, his back to her, thinking about what to say to her question. After a long moment, he finished buttoning the jacket, turning to face her, his voice soft. "...If he should ask why it might be...then...simply tell him the truth...you're there to see me." He smiled - a slightly more genuine smile than he had managed so far. He didn't really...have friends. If someone showed up at the Mansion specifically to see him...well...wouldn't that make Mister Stewart happy enough?
He hoped so. He hoped he was doing the right thing.
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Post by Ashlin Thomas on Jan 5, 2011 9:52:10 GMT -8
Ash smiled brightly at Michael, for some reason ridiculously pleased that just saying she was there to visit Michael would be enough. That meant he thought of her as a friend to didn't it? It must, why else would it be not unusual for her to just visit. Seeing Michael smile like that, more genuine than she'd seen before left a sort of fluttery feeling in her stomach that she didn't quite understand. It wasn't unpleasant, just . . . different. She'd never felt like this before. This having friends thing was certainly an interesting new experience.
"Alright," she told him still smiling, a little flushed (was she coming down with something, she kept feeling her face heat up. ) "I'll tell him that." Noticing that his tie was just a bit crooked, Ash quickly fixed it for him, nodding in satisfaction when she was done.
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Post by Mister Stewart on Jan 5, 2011 14:31:03 GMT -8
There was an odd tightness in Michael's own stomach that he was unaccustomed to, his own face flushing ever so slightly as she moved up to adjust his tie for him. He didn't jerk away from her, but he did freeze up a little bit, his eyes locking upon her face. Half-formed, unfamiliar thoughts drifted through his mind, but he wasn't sure what to make of any of them.
So, in place of speaking, he just gave a little clearing of the throat and a mute nod of thanks, turning away as he noticed his own face going a bit warm. He started towards the door, glancing briefly back at Ash to indicate that he wasn't trying to leave her in a hurry...in fact, he rather looked like he wished he didn't have to leave.
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Post by Ashlin Thomas on Jan 5, 2011 14:44:11 GMT -8
Feeling Michael's eyes on her, her face flushed a little deeper. Was she coming down with something? She'd have to take something, did she have any oranges? Maybe she'd go to the store, she was starting to run low on some things. "I'll walk you out, if you'd like?" she offered slightly shy, not quite wanting Michael to leave either. She really did enjoy spending time with him. He felt- he felt comfortable. Like she didn't have to worry so much around him. Unconsciously she began to play with a loose thread on her shirt.
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Post by Mister Stewart on Jan 5, 2011 15:49:23 GMT -8
Another tiny, mute nod, cheeks reddening a little further. It would be rude to just up and leave, wouldn't it? Of course it would. It was only right for him to linger long enough for a proper goodbye. Granted, part of him had a sinking feeling starting in the pit of his stomach, someone was wrong, something must be wrong back at home - but he mentally waved it away like a cloud of smoke.
The truth was, he felt comfortable with Ashlin, too.
But maybe that thought frightened him, just a little, and he didn't know why.
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Post by Ashlin Thomas on Jan 5, 2011 16:21:22 GMT -8
Nodding slightly she started making her way toward the door, taking a moment to check if Michael was following her. The stairway was a little gloomy, Ash thought. Once she was done with the store and unpacking maybe she'd paint it, something bright. Maybe a green or a purple? She wondered what colors Michael liked. She'd only ever seen him wear white, so perhaps he liked the color white best? Not that white was really a color, but . . .
All too soon it seemed they were at the door. "It was, nice. Having you over I mean." Lovely, why in the world did she suddenly feel so awkward? "You're welcome to come again anytime." After a moment of silence she said, peeking up at him through her lashes. "So, um, well. . . goodbye."
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Post by Mister Stewart on Jan 5, 2011 20:15:37 GMT -8
Standing at the door, Michael hesitated, nodding in response to her comments. The awkward silence hung in the air, almost palpable, as he struggled to find words. For whatever reason, that look she gave him made his stomach tighten, a new sort of dryness arising in his throat. He cleared it, softly, before speaking.
"I enjoyed seeing you, too, Ashlin...farewell, until we meet again." With this dispensed, he bowed low at the waist, turning on his heel to finally leave the place. As he did so, his pace increased...he had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Something was wrong back at the mansion. Momentarily, he paused outside his car, checking the tape on the passenger's side window (he really must get that fixed...he wondered why it had happened in the first place, honestly), before hurrying to get it started.
He had to make dinner, after all. He would have to decide what to cook.
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Post by Ashlin Thomas on Jan 5, 2011 21:47:14 GMT -8
Ashlin didn't think it strange for Michael to bow, he'd done as much when they'd first met after all. Waving goodbye (despite the fact that his back was turned and he couldn't actually see her) Ash smiled lightly, cheeks still rosy. Turning back into the building Ash decided it would be best to go shopping after all, maybe even explore the town a little. She'd have to change out of her pant clothes of course, they really weren't her usual cup of tea. Perhaps her blue, and red plaid shirt, with some leggings. She did enjoy wearing leggings after all.
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