life and its complications.

[putrefaction]

[It is a laundry day in someone else's mind.

He took extra steps to leave her alone to her task. She has quite a task ahead of her, and Nigel would only be in the way. Thus, he kept to cat naps, to shifting between waking and sleeping states.

Eventually, his throat demands a trip, and he emerges from his room with the intent to go to the kitchen. An intent that cuts short inches from his destination, when he catches sight of white-gold in the laundry room. Of skin he shouldn't be catching, a floral shape etched against the pale. White with a blue edge. Maybe. It's hard to tell with his sight.

Nigel halts, caught in an emotion unnamed. And as with all his awkward steps, he begins with words.]

A tattoo?

Comments

[putrefaction]

[Ah. It is strange, but Nigel thinks he understands. His hands drop from his face to look at her.]

I can't speak for anyone else, but I don't expect anything from you. To me, you're just Alanna.

[purificatio]

[ She looks up at him, expression neutral. ]

And that's why I wouldn't be settling.

[ OH LOOK ICE CREAM PLACE IS NEARBY. =DDD ]

[putrefaction]

[...Wait. What just happened? Well, whatever it is, it is causing his cheeks to burn bright.

He also turns on his heels and heads toward the light. The light meaning the ice cream place.]

[purificatio]

[ ...Oh. Blushing. Wow. Unexpected.

Welp, time to take his hand and pull him toward the ice cream. Hand. In. Hand. ]

[putrefaction]

[And that, as they say, is that. Nigel is done. Done. This girl he has been trying so hard to define just goes and takes his hand. Takes him toward their destination like she really, actually cared.

He tries not to hyperventilate. He would rather avoid embarrassing her by attracting attention. Instead, he ducks his head and keeps to calming methods.]

[purificatio]

[ She stares at the line and its damnable human occupants. Acknowledges the boy's strange reactions at her side. Asks dryly. ]

Do you even want ice cream?

[putrefaction]

[He doesn't even notice the line. Only the girl.]

Not really, no.

[purificatio]

[ Abrupt turn. Linking elbows to drag the boy with. ]

...Home again, home again, gig-a-gig-gig.

[putrefaction]

[Linked arms and pressing sides cause a strange reaction, and the red that was red goes redder. He bursts out his first thought.]

That is the most disturbing thing I have ever heard from you...

[purificatio]

[ The heights make it difficult but she persists. ]

Then obviously you must be around me more.

[putrefaction]

And traumatize me further, I see.

[It's risky, very much so, but he attempts to touch a strand of her hair with his free hand.]

What would you ever do if I develop a phobia toward you?

[purificatio]

[ She looks to him when he touches her hair, expression neutral and light. It's wanted, that touch. Even if she does not say it. ]

So delicate. Perhaps I should handle you more gently. I'd be sad if you didn't want to be around me anymore.

[putrefaction]

[The look affects him beneath his skin, and he gently lets the hair go.]

I'd be sad if you wore your kid gloves around me.

[purificatio]

[ Aw, no more touching. She releases his arm and spins to walk backward in order to face him. ]

Well, then, neither of us should make each other sad, right?

[putrefaction]

[The release comes as relief. Nigel inhales shakily while keeping his pace.]

I don't know if I can promise that.

[He smiles, the expression strained.]

I'm terrible at promises.

[purificatio]

[ She stops for a beat, in order to reach to touch his shoulder. ]

Then don't promise me. Just don't become scared of me. I want to stay by you

[putrefaction]

[He pauses, then, at the hand. Reaches, in spite of himself, for it with his own, to close over her pale digits with a quiet desperation.]

Then stay by me.

[purificatio]

[ She squeezes his hand and gives a playful smile. ]

Of course. But I notice you didn't agree to my terms.

[putrefaction]

[The smile etched on his lips wavers. At the warmth of her hand, he wonders--

It's not important.]

Your terms are fair, mademoiselle, and yet, it still asks for a promise.

[He lessens his hold.]

I will agree, however.

[purificatio]

[ Her expression falls, though she doesn't know it. She lets him lessens the hold, and withdraws her hand. ]

Apologies, then. I don't mean to trap you.

[putrefaction]

[There is something ruining in this--the shift in her face.]

You didn't. Please don't apologize.

[purificatio]

[ She watches him, silent, something churning behind her eyes. ]

Come home. We can talk there.

[putrefaction]

[He realizes, then, the world around them, the thick fog of white noise. The man hangs his head, unable to meet the other's eyes.]

Alright.

[purificatio]

[ She leans in and bumps him with her shoulder. ]

[putrefaction]

[With such a simple gesture, she gains his full attention, as dwindling as it might be. He looks at her and sighs.]

Trying, Alan. [To regulate, he means.] Give me...a minute.