theleadingman | avalon: inbox

It was kind of hard for me to pretend nothing happened when all of Camelot witnessed it. Not... that I normally pretend nothing happens.

[Because she doesn't. It's usually the opposite. She winds up obsessing about it and trying to figure out how to fix something. If it can be fixed.

After a moment's contemplative hum, Aerith shakes her head, though he can't see it in the slightest.]

Mmmmmm, I don't really agree with that, but go on. What are you defining as 'of use?' Like, what would be 'of use' to you?

[A nagging voice in the back of her head is saying that this isn't a good idea either. She's inviting him to say something that she probably isn't going to want to hear. Something else she might possibly have to attempt side-stepping.]

[Though there is a slight pang of guilt at the public nature of his display, he can't bring himself to apologize for it— not when he would do the very same thing all over again, given the opportunity. If he hadn't, he has no doubt that one of her many friends would have stepped in to say something, as well— or perhaps telling himself so helps him to feel slightly less foolish.]

While I appreciate what you have offered in the interest of fuller understanding, what I would find most useful is to see with my own eyes that you're safe.

[It's more than that, but it's better that he be simple, direct. The weight a situation like this must put on someone's heart and mind are what worries him the most, but that's not a conversation he wants to have like this, not when just thinking of it makes an uncomfortably familiar feeling tug at him somewhere deep in his chest.]

You called to make your demands regarding my own safety. I remain invested in yours.

[Bad idea number two. She's expected this. Aerith says nothing for several... very long moments. It's evident that she's trying to find a way to refuse him. Something that he might accept. But if it's only that he wants to ensure her safety, they can meet at a neutral territory, right? Like the flower shop. Nothing suspicious about that at all.

It's a show of good will, right?]

I mean, I could tell you that I'm safe, but I'm going to guess that's not good enough for you. I can meet you at the flower shop? Only for a few minutes.

[Of course there is evasion— there always is, these days, but he's chosen to pre-empt her efforts this time around.]

Reasonable, but I have a better idea.

[At which point he hangs up without further ado, and a sharp knock comes at her front door.

He's always been fond of dramatic entrances.]

[The knock at the door calls her attention. Up until this particular moment, she's busied herself in tidying up the kitchen. It doesn't need it, per se. It's just to keep herself busy. Stepping into the entryway, Aerith pauses for a breath or three, and eyes the door.

You didn't.

No. Of course he did. Of course he did. For just a moment her heart contracts. Because he knows she isn't unkind enough to send him back into the cold.

Taking a moment to eye her phone, she looses a sigh, holding it protectively to her collar and eventually, she steps to the front door and she braces herself for the kind of impact that she knows she isn't ready for. Something that will end up coming anyway. Maybe. Unless she knows how to handle herself.

Get a grip, Aerith.

Door opens in part and she offers him a quick look from head to toe before it opens the rest of the way and she stands aside for him in wordless invitation. She can't tell what her expression looks like. Worry, perhaps. Disapproval. Uncertainty. Regret? Perhaps everything rolled into one. She doubts she's anywhere as close to even as she'd like to be.]

...Hi.

Edited (there only needs to be one she; i got excited) 2021-11-15 18:00 (UTC)

Hi.

[He echoes her, as he has in the past, though there's none of the usual warmth— an anxious sort of neutrality, instead. He hadn't expected her to be glad to see him, and so being met with what looks, perhaps, like concern and disapproval doesn't come as much of a surprise to him. Even so, seeing her in person for the first time in weeks nearly knocks the wind out of him— that something so simple has such an effect is almost unsettling, but he shoves it down as he does so many things.

He has no delusions about the reality of the situation; this isn't what one would call a pleasant social call, and the smile he usually has for her is completely lacking as he crosses the threshold, simply grateful he hadn't had to convince her to open the door.]

Is it just you here at the moment?

[He gives her a questioning look as he turns to face her. If Tifa is here, he thinks he'd feel significantly better about the whole situation, but even then, he's worried for her, as well.]

[She can't read his expression as well as she'd like to. There is something in his eyes. Aerith won't say it's 'wild,' but it's something very much akin to. He comes in and as if she's uncertain about what she ought to do next, it takes her some breaths to kick back into gear. She shuts the door after him, locking it because that seems like the safe thing to do and Tifa and Nanaki have keys.

He turns to address her and she pauses, a subtle thrum of tension lingering in her that she has to push aside, in favour of even amicability.]

It's just me right now.

[With some care, she moves past him, folding her hands together, which seem to be the things that most betray her nerves. It's... strange to have him so near in the face of all that's happened as of recent.]

I told you I was safe. Are you satisfied?

In a hurry to send me on my way?

[He'd counted on her not being able to turn him away, their situation being what it is, but given her current stance on things, he knows he's not a welcome guest as he might have been for a time. In either case, he doesn't seem like he's in any sort of hurry, and he shakes his head as he folds his arms firmly in front of him.]

'Satisfied' will take some doing. I'm not leaving you here alone.

[Not when he's just starting to grasp the gravity of the situation that's followed her to this place from home. She may insist that man's interest is only really in Cloud, but that's hardly convincing enough for his liking. Even if it means the air between them is thick with tension, he intends to stay put.]

It occurred to me that up until now, I've just been doing what you say despite not being allowed any input. I think I'm rather tired of that.

It's not—

[It is kind of that. Not that she can say as much. She sits on his words some and then clears her throat. Seems he's not going away until someone else arrives on the scene to evidently babysit her, or whatever it is Balthier's expecting at this point.

She turns just enough to offer him a long look and finally shakes her head.

Have it your way ~~at burger king~~.]

I... see.

[Tapping her fingertips together, she can't say she's really disappointed. That probably wasn't going to work forever. He's not yes ma'am, errand boy, after all.]

...Tea, then?

[It could so easily escalate into an argument, and yet Aerith stops herself before it can truly do so. For that, he should probably be grateful. He didn't come here to fight with her, after all— even if their current clash of opinions and refusal to budge from their respective stances might suggest otherwise.]

Tea sounds lovely. I'll help.

[Because he's not going to invite himself into her home when she doesn't want him there and then allow her to wait on him. Before she can protest, he starts towards the kitchen.

The circumstances certainly aren't what he would have hoped they'd be when it came to getting her to see him again, but if this is what it takes to get her attention and impress upon her that she needn't shut everyone out and bear her burdens alone, he's more than willing to weather it.]

[The kitchen is simple, but accented by plants, like most of Aerith's life is. He helps himself before she has a chance to properly stop him, and she suspects that even if she tried to, he might not listen.

This isn't exactly how she envisioned things going. Admittedly, she doesn't feel as if she's got a lot of resistance left to give. Perhaps leniency will be just enough for him to move forward. As he ought to. As Cloud has. As Tifa and Nanaki should.

She follows after him and opts to let him take control. At least he can feel like he has some sway somewhere, even if it's over tea. She passes through the open kitchen, patting the stove where the kettle sits, and then pauses by cabinets, opening and showing him her collection of tea, which seem to be largely floral in note. Probably things from the shop, knowing her.]

I could have done it, but... Feel free to help yourself. My home is your home.

[Which is true in many ways. He's stayed here long enough to be familiar with it, after all.

She pulls up a chair to the island section opposite the stove and seats herself patiently.]

I'll have whatever you're having.

[He does note that she seems to concede even before she says anything, allowing him to roam her kitchen freely. It does cause some of the tension in his countenance to soften, just slightly, and he nods once she opens the cupboard and steps away to help herself to a seat. He knows the kitchen fairly well from the weeks he'd spent here, but he hadn't had many opportunities to navigate it himself— even when he'd been on the mend, cooking isn't one of his many skills, but he can certainly make good tea.]

You've done enough looking after me that the least I can do is make tea.

[He does, just for a moment, offer her the barest flicker of a smile, but it fades before it has the chance to fully bloom, and he turns his back to her in the interest of filling the kettle.

There's still anger in him, frustration, that much is clear, but he is doing his very best to set it aside. He understands her position to be a complex one, but he maintains that he is rather tired of being kept at arm's length, especially as someone who was an expert in such practices himself.]

Hibiscus?

[Even if she'd already said she'd have whatever he's having, it's still polite to ask.]

[As she's watching him, she's cycling through the possibilities of what she can say, what she can do to convince him to leave. If Tifa and Nanaki show up, she'll just have more to explain, considering she gave Tifa the 'low down' of the situation. The last thing she really wants is to discuss why Balthier's... there. But truthfully, if they show up while he's there, he'll probably just leave, knowing Aerith's in good hands.

She's still thinking when he asks her about the tea. Leaning onto her forearms as she eyes him, Aerith offers him a nod.]

Yeah. Nothing in mine, so just the tea itself. If you want anything in yours, there's sugar up there in the cabinets and lemon or milk in the refrigerator. I don't know how you take your tea.

[Does he feel as if he owes her something? He doesn't. Caring for him back then had been unconditional. As is all of Aerith's kindness. But she suspects Balthier is not the type of man who enjoys a debt.]

[He glances back over his shoulder and nods once in confirmation before he goes about setting things up. He helps himself to the appropriate tea from the cabinet, setting it on the counter along with a pair of cups before putting the water on to boil properly. When there's nothing left to be done but wait, he turns to face her, leaning forward against the island to rest his weight on it, hands clasped in front of him as he studies her.

It's incredibly difficult to stay angry when she's this close, even though the past weeks have been, in his opinion, truly miserable.]

Won't be long.

[Gods, but he is terrible at small talk— or rather, he was far better at it when things weren't so tense between them. He sighs, dropping his chin as he does so, his shoulders rolling forward just a bit.

He hadn't thought ahead about this part— about what they might actually talk about if she didn't turn him away or if things didn't otherwise escalate.]

... I don't like arguing with you, you know.

[It's easier when he's not focusing on her. It was easier when he couldn't see her either. As long as he's in her space, Aerith feels that she not only has to have her guard up, she has to come across as very strong. Not that delicate, demure demeanor that she sometimes can give off. In consequence, the moment his attention falls onto her during their waiting game, his posture shifts and she finds herself sitting a tad straighter.

She keeps a healthy distance between them. She didn't have a list of topics to go over with him about. Probably could have asked about the weather. What he starts with is... awkward and uncomfortable.]

We're not arguing.

[And they didn't really argue before either. He either just gave in and voiced his frustration, or she's deferred and said very little. Neither of those really classify as arguing.]

Unless I'm missing something. Pretty sure I'd know if I did, though.

[He raises an eyebrow at her from across the island, questioning.]

Not at the moment, no.

[But in his opinion, they had been— perhaps that speaks to just how little time he's actually spent cultivating relationships close enough to have such conversations. It might have been closer to bordering on a squabble, but even in his limited experience, it's probably safe to say that the last few weeks— and how he's felt throughout— have only served to amplify things, alter his perception.]

Though it certainly feels that way when you've gone out of your way not to speak to me for so long.

[And not see him for even longer than that. He presses his lips into a thin line, raising his hand against the protest he's certain he knows is coming.]

I understand why you did it. That doesn't mean I like it any more, nor do I like that I don't know where I stand with you any longer.

[What she'd said earlier— it was certainly something, yes, and he wasn't about to forget it, but it doesn't change the fact that she didn't want him here.

Apologies, Aerith. This discussion is happening.]

[He's right. She's just steps away from having something to say in reply to him and he manages to keep her from doing precisely that. Not just with his little gesture, but with the rest of what he says.

He doesn't know where he stands with her? She'll do whatever she has to, whatever she can to protect him. It's the same that she'd do for anyone that she cared for. Undoubtedly, her feelings for Balthier go a bit deeper than simply care, but...

For some moments, her lips pucker together, some kind of unamused duck bill fashion of expression before she she shakes her head. He can't make her talk about this.]

We're not going to make a regular habit of this.

[She gestures between the two of them, implying him coming over for tea. At least, not for her. Aerith's not going to tell Tifa she can't spend time with him because they were friends before anything happened and that's simply not how Aerith is.]

I couldn't just send you back out in the cold after you came all this way.

[Which she's... still not exactly happy about, but she's doing a very good job of holding herself together.]

No, I imagine it won't become a habit no matter what I say.

[She's made her decision, sour as he is about it, but there's nothing to be done about it if she isn't willing to budge. She's convinced this is the best way to protect him, but given her interest in protecting everyone she cares about, he has to wonder what comes next. Will Tifa, too, be shoved to arm's length? Nanaki? Or will they be exempt because friendship was somehow safer?

He frowns, shifting so that he's leaning back against the counter behind him now, arms folded in front of him. Just as Aerith has put effort into making herself strong and unflinching, so too does he seek to close himself off, regardless of whether or not he realizes it.]

I came because I doubted I'd ever get to see you otherwise. You've made it clear you don't want that— I was nearly here already when you suggested the flower shop.

[That doesn't necessarily make it better, but his tone is injured regardless.]

We're not even going to be friends going forward?

[Of course, even as he says that, he knows it's impossible— it's a foolish question, especially because he has made it clear that's not what he wants. He's been plain that even knowing she's thinking about him just as much as he is her, it's not enough.]

I didn't say that.

[They are friends. And she knows they're more than that. Friends is a simple way of putting it. Friends is the way to put it if she wants to pretend there isn't anything else there. She knows that isn't the case.

Thinking about him to the extent that she does, very willing to put herself in harm's way for him without almost an extra thought, and the pace at which she's been determined to keep him at a distance all tell her that her feelings for him are... Well. They run extraordinarily deep. Much deeper than she expected them to.

When she thinks of him, her heart aches. It's almost consuming.

Aerith drops her gaze from him, leaning onto her arms and in dire need of something to distract herself with, she reaches for the nearby vase of lilies and adjusts them slowly. They're the same type that she gave to him when he first came to her shop and that is all intentional.

It's a way of being close to him even when she feels she can't be.]

I don't want to talk about this, Balthier.

[He can't blame her in the least for looking away, for needing a distraction; even being in the same room as her makes his chest feel impossibly tight, something akin to grief now tangled up in all the rest of what he feels when he thinks of her, speaks to her.

She doesn't want to talk about this. For weeks, he's done what he can to let it be, to respect that a decision was made and that whatever effort he had to put in to talk her out of it would be wasted— because would it ever be worth it, if someone walked back such a choice because they felt pressured to, when it wasn't what they wanted?

But no. This is what she doesn't want. It's what she thinks should be done, and there is a world of difference between those two things.]

I do.

[His gaze moves to where she's begun to adjust the flowers to busy herself, and of course he recognizes them— he had tirelessly taken care of the ones she had given him for quite some time now, though they had begun to droop as of late. Maybe they picked up on her absence, as well.

He sighs heavily as he steps forward, reaching out to lay a firm hand against her wrist.]

Aerith, this is ludicrous. I know what you're trying to do, and it's admirable, but terribly misguided.

[You don't understand at all.

How can he? She won't tell him anything. It wouldn't change anything even if she did. She'd still feel the same. She'd still be trying to do the same thing. He'd still be trying to change her mind. This moment, the very present one where he puts merely touch on her wrist and she can feel it practically resonate along her insides, is precisely why she's not wanted to see him again. He tests her resolve and he hardly knows it.

It's a lot easier to put him aside when he isn't near her. When he doesn't bother to contact her. She just wants to move on. She looks up from her flowers and for some moments, can only stare at him.]

You don't have to agree with why I've chosen to do things as I have.

[After some moments, she settles a free hand atop his and for a breath or two it lingers before she carefully tries to remove his hold.]

Did you really come here to see if I was safe, or was that just an excuse? Did you come here just to lecture me? That's unnecessary.

Edited (don't look at meeeeeee) 2021-11-16 05:19 (UTC)

[When she gently moves his hand away from her wrist, he lets her, though his gaze darkens as his hold falls away, his own brow furrowed. He curls his fingers against the surface of the island, drawing them into a loose fist as he tries to ground himself, and he feels something thick at the back of his throat that he's forced to swallow down.]

No— I didn't come here to lecture you.

[Even though that is, to a degree, precisely what he's doing. Even the word 'lecture' leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, reminding him of the person he's tried very hard not to become over the years. He clenches his jaw, his gaze dropping to avoid hers now.]

I wanted to see that you were safe. Physically, of course, but what we talked about— what you told me, and what I saw of that exchange— I'm worried about you. That's a great deal for anyone to carry— for their mind, their heart.

[That's not the only reason, but certainly a large part of it. Just because she doesn't believe Sephiroth is going to come after her doesn't mean she's safe. There are other ways to hurt, and some are far worse than physical injury, gnawing away from the inside.]

And I've missed you, though gods know why that should be.

[Except he knows exactly why. Even so, he huffs softly, turning his head towards the door leading back out into the living area to further avert his gaze.]

Normally, I take rejection far better than this.

[Normally, he doesn't care this much.]

[At first she isn't inclined to believe him. It's a very good opportunity for him to get out every scathing remark to her face. She couldn't blame him for that either. That's likely why she isn't completely shutting him out. She knows she deserves everything he has to say. She hasn't given him the opportunity to express himself. There's no time like the present, right?

"That's a great deal for anyone to carry—"

At that, Aerith looses a laugh. Kind of. It's a little stilted and awkward, but surprisingly warm. Wearing an amused expression, she turns her attention back onto the lilies.]

I live my every day knowing that each one passing brings me closer to not having any more. I don't even get the chance to fight it or stop it. I just have to accept it and you're worried about my exchanges with Sephiroth?

[She shakes her head, draws in a breath in an effort to cool any additional laughter that might escape from her.]

Sorry—it's a little funny to hear that. I appreciate the concern. I do. I wish you weren't worried, but I understand why you are and I can't stop you from feeling that way. All I can do is reassure you that I'll do the best I can to keep myself safe.

[She can't address the rest. Rather, she won't. For any number of reasons that Balthier is likely already privy to.]

[She laughs, but he pointedly does not, his gaze narrowed as he turns it back on her. Did she think, somehow, that he had forgotten?]

Don't you think that's part of it?

[Part of why he worries— because in truth, he's been concerned since long before what he saw on the network, knowing what he does. What living with that kind of knowledge must do to a person, how heavily it must weigh, how it colors each and every one of their actions, their choices.

He thinks he understands better than she gives him credit for.]

I have thought about what awaits you every day since you told me, wondering how knowing something like that must change a person, and it's too much, Aerith, for you to bear on your own. Not because you're not strong. Nobody could do it— and even knowing what you know, even being so certain as you are, I don't believe in inevitability.

[Not that he can change it for her, not that anyone can— but if he had learned anything, anything from his time caught up in the struggle for Dalmasca, from the Occuria themselves, it was that fate has far less of a hold than such powers would have men believe.]

It hasn't happened yet. You're living life as if you're already gone, pushing people away from you.

[So it was a mistake to tell him, is what she's hearing. It's what has made it so difficult to tell Tifa what little she could. She's kept it to herself because she knows what it does. Balthier has never deserved to get pulled into all of that and now he can't even look at her without thinking about it. If he's trying to reassure her, it's not working.

"Not because you're not strong."

Is she, though? What she displays--is that strength or cowardice? Both, maybe. Why can't it be both. She can feel her heart steadily attempt to lodge itself into her throat. She's never talked about it like this with someone before. Talking about it makes it weigh heavier. It's still heavy just thinking about it, but in her thoughts at least she can distance herself.

She feels boxed in. As in she doesn't have a place she can retreat to.]

I should just be grateful that I have your attention, right? That I have Tifa and the others to look after me? [She can feel herself getting heated over it, something she wants to crush under foot.] ...I am grateful. It's so much more than I deserve. I want to sit here and say that just having that is good enough. If I say it, I'm lying. I feel like a part of me is dying every day. Before, at least I could just keep it to myself. Now I have to live with you feeling the way you do. With Tifa feeling the way she does. That only makes it worse.

[She has to force out another laugh because she knows it she doesn't, she might just cry instead.]

I never should have said anything to you.

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