escordvi | closed ⚡🪶 and forevermore, i'll be chasing the storm we had.

[Then maybe he shouldn't be acting so mopey and she wouldn't be so worried! Granted, Benedikta still isn't quite sure what to do with herself or him in this situation. Only that she is growing increasingly vexed by the fact that he is not his normal self... The self that pushes her buttons and wears that stupid, crooked smile of his, or laughs at her whenever she so much as pouts. It's only made worse by the fact that she realizes as he grabs her by her wrist that she actually misses it when he isn't there—]

I was looking for this.

[Duh. She holds up the razor and waves it around at his face.]

I already knew where it was, there was no point in messing things around—no, why are you to begin with?

[And grabbing the razor away.]

[And she's just going to reach over to take it right back, thanks.

But at his question, her gaze immediately drops to her hands, and she taps one end of it against her palm, fidgeting. Why is she, he asks? And Benedikta finds herself asking herself that very same question, too.

Tap, tap, tap...

Tap, tap...

She doesn't have any answer for him because she doesn't know. She doesn't understand why she's so concerned for him. Why she didn't just tell him to fuck right off with his attitude, blow all of his papers to the floor, and leave him to his work. She doesn't understand why she feels this guilt pulling at her heart. Doesn't understand why she felt the need to shove herself into his day in the first place by showing up...

Why she's staying when he clearly doesn't want her to.

Why she hates so much seeing him like this, and why she wants the old Cidolfus back.

Why... when she is the one to reach out to him, he would turn her hand away.

Her brows draw together and her lips pucker, and she has half a mind to throw the razor back in his face and stomp out. She even looks like she will.

... But she doesn't. Her feet remain rooted firmly in place as she grumbles.]

Look at yourself.

[Perhaps if he had had proper sleep and rest and just in a general better mood, he would have noticed more about her behavior. Noticed the odd way she's acting now compared to her usual and how she's sticking by him instead of telling him off and leaving him. Noticed how deeply her brow furrows as she continues to peck at him. And while he does notice her odd behavior, it's not all quite clicking. He gathers she's here about Mid's leaving, but from Cid's perspective he's "fine."

Okay, sure, he's not looking his best, but what of it? He just had a lot of things to do, projects to work on, money to make. Several of his new inventions were on the cusp of completion, so of course he would just bury himself in his work, it's what he does, anyway.

So what if it also serves to distract him. Maybe it did at first, but it's fine now. Moving on, accepted the facts, no time to mope and wallow, which he isn't.

Except he is, he just doesn't see it.

What he does see right now is Benedikta relentlessly pestering about his appearance, and with his mind as shot and frazzled as it is, it's getting irksome that she's so focused about it.]

Yeah, so? What's it matter to you?

[The words come out a bit sharper than he might have intended, but his patience is running thin.]

I can handle it on my own, don't need you fussing and nagging about it.

["What's it matter to you?"

She's actually taken aback by his response, and it shows on her face when her chin lifts to snap her gaze to him. It stings. Fucking Greagor, it stings. There's a stretch of silence, so tense that the razor in her hand could probably cut through it with ease, and it feels like it goes on forever...

...

Before she tosses the razor into the sink, letting it clatter, the sound of it hitting porcelain echoing through the whole room.]

Then I will stop my fussing and nagging.

[This fussing and nagging is the only way that Benedikta can show that she even gives a shit about him, that she doesn't want to see him like this any longer, which is why she goes on.]

I'm sure one of the others will gladly come by and tell you how you've never looked better, so you may ask them for their company should you wish for it instead. Or just handle it on your own.

[Under her breath, she grumbles.]

This was stupid.

[Stupid of her to even try. She knew that comforting was not her strong suit—so fucking far from it—but he's made it very clear that she is only making it worse.

So she pushes past him to storm out.]

[The moment he sees her taken aback, there's some waver in his ire, but it's not until there's that clatter of the razor and her words sinking in that he really starts to regret his words.

Whatever the hell he's feeling, and as poor as her attempts are—attempts he's finally starting to see more clearly—that doesn't mean he should take it out on her.

So when she pushes past him.]

Benedikta—

[A tired, rough voice calls out as he turns and reaches out to try and grab her arm to stop her.]

Benna, wait—

[Her whole arm stiffens when his hand clasps around it, and she doesn't whip around to look at him lest he see the bitter, confused look on her face. Or the hurt when he calls her that.]

What? Have you not already finished?

[For a moment his grip tightens before it loosens enough where her arm will fall and he rubs his hand over his face... And the coarse hairs of his beard.]

No—I mean, I'm sorry. That's not what I meant.

[She schools her expression, steels it before she affords him a look over her shoulder.]

Is it not? I thought you made yourself pretty clear that you don't need me here.

[Doesn't need... whatever this is. It's a horrible attempt, she knows, but... what else is she supposed to do? Pat him on the head and tell him things are going to be fine? That would be a lie because clearly things are not fine right now. Hug him and say that it's okay? No, because he needs a goddamn shower.

But no one had ever taught Benedikta how to... do that. How to console people. Her heart is far too stung to feel empathy for anyone, including him, so all she can offer is the cold hard truth.

And perhaps a steady hand to trim that god-awful beard. Maybe even a distraction, should he want it.

Really, all she wanted was to make sure that he wasn't dead. That he was okay. Alive. Living. And when she found him like this...]

[Right, her attitude is definitely not helping—but only because his own attitude isn't helping him see or think clearly. At the end of the day, no matter what he thinks—]

—You were right.

[A begrudging admission said with a sigh. Maybe he's "fine" in some ways, but clearly he isn't in others. He's not that much of a fool to not have at least noticed how things were piling up and his own unkempt appearance. The problem he just didn't care about it, because who was he going to see in this state? No one, if he could help it.

And he was...better in the earlier days when people dropped by before. Benedikta just had the misfortune in seeing how time and everything piled up.]

I...

[And it's then when perhaps all his fatigue and slight malnourished condition catches up to him, with a bit of poor timing he would think. He staggers then, his vision swimming a little as he feels that lightheaded dizziness as he instinctively reaches out to grab something to steady himself.]

[She hears his hand fumbling for something, and that's when Benedikta turns around just in time to spot him teetering on his feet.]

For fuck's sake, Cidolfus...

[With a click of her tongue and a sharp groan under her breath, she reaches out to catch him before he can stumble and fall completely, her arms wrapping around him in a stiff, awkward hug.]

When was the last time you slept?

[A small groan as he ends up having to momentarily lean into her before he tries to right himself on his own.]

I had a nap earlier.

["Nap." "Earlier."]

[She isn't going to let him right himself on his own, and instead, she will readjust them both so that his arm is draped over her shoulders. Fuck, she's forgotten how heavy he is and her knees buckle momentarily before she's dragging him away from the bathroom doorway and someplace safer before he slips.]

That isn't what I asked.

[Slept. Properly.]

Where is the bed?

[Because surely, if he had a nap earlier, that means there's got to be one here somewhere?]

[Seeing as how protesting is useless, he just sighs and at least manages to put some of his weight off her.]

Over there, room down the hall.

[She'll drag him over there if she has to, but fortunately, it won't have to come to that. Instead, Benedikta will guide him that way, glad that he can at least move his legs enough that she isn't bearing all of his weight. There's still a worried look beneath the frown as she brings him right up to the bed...

...

And drops him unceremoniously onto it.]

You're going to sleep and I will not hear otherwise.

[And onto the bed he flops with a moaning groan, though he can't really complain. It's only when he's on it does he feel the aches and fatigue he's accumulated over the past few days, and he rolls onto the back with a hand over his eyes.]

What, gonna chain me to the bed so I don't escape?

[She sits down beside him, heaving a sigh before looking him over with something softer bleeding into the edges of her expression.]

Is that what it will take?

[A rough laugh before it turns into a sigh.]

...No.

[He hates to admit it, but he really does feel as if a ship just ran over him. He knew he had driven himself hard over the past few days, but... It was only now did he really feel it.

Or, rather, forced to acknowledge it.]

Good.

[She leans back on her hand first, looking him over...

...

... Before she's shifting closer. Closer to where his head rests on the pillow. Close enough that she can bring that hand to his hair instead and comb her fingers through it. Unlike the last time she'd done this, it isn't to mess it up but to put it all back into its rightful place.]

But I will make do if I have to. So I suggest you take it as you are.

Edited 2024-01-05 07:02 (UTC)

[He stiffens for a moment, mostly because he's surprised by the feel of her touch at his head. Slowly he lowers his arm away from his eyes and looks up at her, his expression mixed with confusion and...really he's not sure what he's feeling.]

You really plan on staying to play watch on me?

[Is what he says. What he really wanted to know if she just wanted to...stay with him at all, but he knows she wouldn't answer that, so he twists it around instead. Either way, that disbelief in his eyes will still remain.]

[She knows very well what he's asking with that play on his words. Perhaps it's because he's tired that his disbelief gives him away, but it doesn't deter her. Her fingers just continue to fiddle with his hair, combing small locks of it where they should be.]

I didn't say that.

[But perhaps her own mix of frustration and fatigue helps to give her away too.]

... We'll see whether you listen.

[Another careful gaze before he just gives up and closes his eyes with a small huff.]

Maybe I'd sleep better if you joined me.

Now you want me to stick around?

[She's not making any signs of moving from where she is, however, but her fingers have stopped combing through his hair to watch him, now that his eyes are closed.]

[There's just a small stretch of silence, and his lips start to part as if to say something, but they stiffen for just a fraction of a second before he turns his head slightly away, eyes still closed before he answers with something else.]

Didn't mean it that way.

[Well, whatever it is he meant, it doesn't really matter in the end. He'd said those things, and it still stings, but that should be the least of his worries. Or hers. It shouldn't have stung at all, if she's honest.]

Just get some sleep, Cidolfus.

[Whether she stays or not is something she will decide, and he can find that out when he wakes up.]

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