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 Posted: Mon Mar 18, 2019 6:45 pm
Perfectly Fine
Mid-December 2018
Rhedefre didn’t use Instagram very much. Days could go by where he never opened the app, and when he did use it, he’d scroll for a few minutes before losing interest. He liked the story function more than anything: the ability to joke with others about his day, or his work, or himself—but mostly, it was of the barest interest to him, to be used only when the joke was good enough or the boredom was strong enough.
Even still, it didn’t take long for him to notice something was amiss.
He liked to check in on his friends: Zurine’s hairstyles, Lulu’s makeup and tattoos, Iorek’s workouts, Vesna’s food photography, and Eden… Eden’s spectacle.
Sometimes, he was mystified by the way she’d grown such a big audience, by the endless different selfies and looks and outfits she could showcase, the claw marks of color swatches on her arms, the delicate closed-eye portraits of the garden in her hair. It was an Eden not even Eden could really be, Cesc thought privately as he’d look at it; this tiny green sublime witch in layers upon layers of glittering pristine beauty and a glisten of authentic vulnerability to draw others to her.
Eden, but Eden in a greenhouse, he’d think to himself wryly, as a video clip of her talking into the camera and smiling would autoplay on his phone.
In any case, it made her happy, he’d think, and that’s all that really mattered. He’d think and scroll on.
But lately, that reassuring thought wouldn’t float into Rhedefre’s mind. He’d scroll and pause and frown without really knowing why: she was still smiling, still beautiful, still performing the same performance. Wasn’t she?
He’d frown and scroll on and close the app and put it from his mind.
The next time he opened Instagram, it was the same. He’d see her post and frown and probe the feeling: what was it that seemed wrong about the photo, or the caption, or whatever it was? He didn’t know, couldn’t put his finger on the shuddering pulse, but it was still there, still wrong, a brain teaser: what’s wrong with this picture?
“I told to him that I will come next week, but not this,” Vivi was saying, prompting Rhedefre to lift his head and attend to her, trying to catch onto the last part of a conversation she’d begun while he was distracted. “But if you would like to go, I could tell Andres.”
“Tell Andres what?” Cesc replied, putting his phone down. Andres Antoine, a friend of Gertrude’s, was a minor investor in Vermillion and a restauranteur primarily in Barton.
Vivi fixed him with a look. “Tell Andres if you want to go to the opening weekend of the Palais Rose in Barton, Andres’ new venture. It is to be quite stylish, I have heard! He was quite taken with the design.”
Cesc shrugged. “Do I need to?”
“Mais non, I will go next week.”
“I don’t really need to eat more sweets than I do,” replied Cesc, checking the time on his phone. “Palais Rose, too… I’d look like a gimmick.”
“A beautiful one,” agreed Vivi with a smile. “Andres is confident many young ladies will come to just take the photographs with the food and decor. A brilliant ploy, n’est pas?”
Cesc snapped his head up. “Wait, what?”
Vivi laughed. “I have told you, the decor is quite nice!”
“No—actually, yes—“
“Pardon?”
Cesc swiped open his phone, tapping on the messenger app. “Tell Andres I’ll go this weekend, table for two, if he’s still ok with it.”
“For the Ulla and yourself?”
Cesc shook his head, although the idea of his girlfriend finding out about this particular venture made him grimace internally. “Eden,” he corrected without looking up.
He didn’t care to see the expression change on Vivi’s foxlike face.
>>hey Eden! have you heard any buzz on a new speciality cafe in Barton, Palais Rose?
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Posted: Mon Mar 18, 2019 6:50 pm
Dulled, grass-green eyes fluttered open when the phone chimed, quiet but still insistent. She knew every different noise her phone made by heart: a chirp for Twitter, a shutter click for Instagram, a piano note for Youtube, and something akin to a video game chime for messages. Her room was dim for late in the morning, a set of sheer white curtains drawn across the window casting a soft glow.. They let enough light in to avoid any concern from Ian, but the soft gauzy fabric eliminated the harsh winter glare that had begun to hurt her eyes as of late. If Ian asked, she would say it was an attempt to keep out the cold without living in a complete cave. However, that thought sounded somewhat appealing… She rolled over and let one arm stretch out from under her blankets to reach for her phone. A plethora of notifications greeted her, and she was surprised that it was a message that had woken her. When had she fallen back to sleep?
Eden still managed to post at least once a day, but they were not always very involved. A scenic shot of a dusting of snow outside, her delicate fingers curled around a cup of tea, or a ‘selfie’ focused on her shirt and chin only; it was no doubt beginning to become obvious that she was avoiding her face. Even two layers of concealer on top of color correction left a hint of her under-eye shadows now, and her sallow complexion was unmistakable. Even Ian, who did his best to treat her as if nothing was different (likely to avoid hurting her feelings) was often caught watching her with clear worry on his face. But she didn’t have the energy to discuss it with him. He wouldn’t understand.
It was a message from Cesc that had woken her, something about a new cafe in Barton. Honestly, she hadn’t heard of it--then again, she had been out of the loop lately. The urge to send a minimal reply was strong, but… This was Cesc. Handsome, glowing, easygoing Cesc. He shouldn’t worry about her.
hey! i don’t think so, when’s it opening? what a cute name, too. very fancy~ ♥
That was fine, right? Her thumb hovered over the little paper plane icon as she read and re-read her reply. Should she add more emojis? More letters to stress a word she would normally drag out when spoken aloud? "No, stop being so dumb. Just send the reply or he’ll worry.”
She hit send and left her phone resting on the pillow beside her head as her hand disappeared beneath the covers again. The little cocoon of warmth felt like the greatest thing on Earth at the moment, its soft and gentle arms wrapped around her and keeping her safe.
Looking to her plants across the room, soaking in what little sunlight they could, Eden exhaled softly through her nose. A shy, gentle push of her powers coaxed their leaves a little more upright, a little straighter, a little perkier. But even that small kindness left her head spinning. She could feel them calling to her, crying for her and her essence clawed to reach them. It ached like a hollow weight in her chest, but even that was not an apt enough description. 'Take it back!’ the snake plant begged, ‘you need it more than I do!’ But she just closed her eyes, pulling her cloud-like comforter up and over her face to block out their pleas. She didn’t need it.
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Posted: Mon Mar 18, 2019 6:59 pm
Cesc stared at his message for a long moment after he sent it, hoping to see a cartoon ellipses pop up soon after. He hemmed and hawed, wondering about both the message and his initial concern. Vivi’s mention of Ulla sent him into a new spiral of thoughts: Ulla would not be excited to read that message if she snooped through his phone, and would probably be even less thrilled when googling Eden and coming across her pristinely curated Instagram.
But, he thought with some annoyance, he couldn’t worry about that now. He’d sent the message, he meant to take Eden out and speak with her, and Ulla—as Ulla ever did these days—would have to manage her own jealousy until properly soothed. He couldn’t keep only male company until she decided he was trustworthy, although the thought of Ulla sneering at Eden as she had Jackie gave him further pause.
Oh, ******** it. He’d deal with it if it came to that, and he wasn’t going to sit idly by if Ulla saw fit to lose her mind again. Eden was not Jackie, and while neither of them deserved to be treated with contempt, Rhedefre certainly wasn’t going to let Eden ever—ever—be the subject of his girlfriend’s misplaced ire.
A new message popped up on his phone. The quickness of it calmed him, but the contents less so: for as much as Cesc knew from the rest of Vivi’s conversation, Andres’ new venture had been fairly well anticipated by influencers around Barton, who had been treated to an early glimpse at the sumptuous decor, elegant place settings and colorful, beautiful treats. That Eden had missed it caused his brows to furrow and his resolve to strengthen.
He googled a quick picture from a blogger’s advance visit: one of the cafe’s entrance, with its soft millennial pink plush tufted walls and the glittering gold chandelier that welcomed patrons, with the smallest peek of its broad display case with beautiful macarons, miniature Victoria sandwiches, and other delights within.
Cesc sent the picture to Eden, writing:
>>this is the place. a friend is opening it and offered me a table for two on Saturday around 11 am. thought maybe right up your alley?
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Posted: Mon Mar 18, 2019 7:11 pm
By the time Cesc’s reply came in, Eden had rolled onto her back and brought her arms out of her cocoon. She was scrolling mindlessly through post after post after post on instagram, flashes of vibrant color and utopian scenery broken up by curated captions. She drew in a slow, deep breath and opened the chat again, greeted by a similar image.
It was a gorgeous place, she had to admit. And despite her fatigue and recent disinterest she felt that familiar pull, a surge of giddy excitement that tensed her arms and made her turn onto her stomach to look at her phone more closely.
The invitation even pulled a smile from her lips and Eden chewed her lip between her teeth. Could she go? Should she? Cesc had taken the time and the well-meaning through to invite her, he obviously wanted to see her. But why? Had he noticed that something wasn’t right? Was this some sort of charade to check on her? The thought of talking about what was going on with Cesc made her bite down harder on her lip. Had he noticed?
The sharp tang of blood broke through her spiral and she sighed. She couldn’t tell him no, it would be rude. Besides, she wanted to go even if it would be difficult or awkward. Logically she knew that Cesc wouldn’t expect the expertly lacquered mask or complain about its absence. But what about everyone else?
OMG that looks AMAZING!!! I’d love to go!! ♥♫
At least she had a few days to prepare. Hopefully that would be enough time to figure out how to fix her hair.
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Posted: Mon Mar 18, 2019 7:55 pm
Rhedefre, in the days between, had not worried about how to fix his own hair. He hadn’t actually worried about much of his own appearance, his concern for Eden growing with each passing day. She was avoiding posting her face, he realized: the only recent selfie she’d posted had been a #tbt to the past summer. The cheery captions were the same, the elegance and taste in the curation was the same, but there were some half-photos of her where Cesc blinked and wondered if the color of her hair was quite right.
He knew, intellectually, that it could all be a storm in a teacup, that her breakup could have made her feel somber, that it was something passing and not… not the same as when Zurine had collapsed in the woods, half-mad with hunger, or…
Rhedefre pushed the thoughts away. He stood outside the Palais Rose wearing a pair of indigo jeans and a stylish grey hooded jacket, a grey-and-black ballcap atop his head. The emblem of the sports team on the hat was black atop black, muted, but a contrast to the shock of pink curls that spilled from beneath it. He’d thrown on the hat last-minute when he remembered where he was going, unwilling to look like the gimmick he’d warned Vivi he could become.
He put his hands into the pockets of the jacket, his breath visible in the air as he leaned against the building in wait. Several fashionable girls had come to the doors, giggling and talking, wearing shorts and large fluffy coats and tall boots or stiletto heels, dressed for picture-taking and not as much for eating. A few had small ring lights on their phones, and several even brought real, professional cameras. Andres would be delighted, Cesc mused. It was, he supposed, a different type of enjoyment.
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Posted: Mon Mar 18, 2019 7:59 pm
In the days leading up to their excursion Eden had tried multiple options regarding her faded glamour. Ian had even let her try hair dye, but it had refused to stick. Or perhaps she'd done it wrong; who knew? But the clawing doubt never went away. Filters and a change of editing style could help disguise her wilting online, but real life would be much more difficult.
When the day came to meet Cesc, to say she was anxious would be an understatement. Where normally she might have been bobbing excitedly in the air and eagerly rushing out the door, Ian practically had to push her. She had agonized over her outfit as usual, finally settling on a trendy cropped sweatshirt with embroidered roses, accompanied by an oversized denim jacket. She'd managed to hide most of her hair with a floppy black beanie and a braid, which made her feel just a tiny bit better. She managed a single red rose to match her top, but the small blossoms that normally decorated her ribbon were few and far between.
But the most distressing part had been her makeup. Hovering before her mirror, she just hadn't been able to bring herself to reach for her eyeliner. Eyebrows were a must, but… She didn't feel sharp and fierce, or bold enough for her signature wings. Cesc would likely notice instantly when he saw only a soft dusting of maybe shadow and a coat of dark mascara. A fresh face was cute, right? Besides, just covering her dark circles and making sure her foundation blended nicely had taken more effort than she would have liked.
As she drifted off the bus feeling small and brittle, the nymph caught sight of her friend immediately. Even in his very neutral, 'please-dont-look-at-me’ ensemble, his pink hair stood out like a neon sign in the winter gray. Would he say anything? Even if he didn't, she knew she would be able to see it on his face: brief shock, followed by concern and confusion, and then a pitying and gentle smile. She was used to the combination scrolling across Ian's face these days.
“Hi! Wow, this place is so cute!” She grinned brightly as she drew closer, huddling into the bulk of her jacket for warmth. Normally she was not the best with cold weather, but this year it seemed to pierce right down to her bones in an instant. Her fragile wings were tucked safely inside her hoodie. She would never reveal that it was yet another attempt at camouflaging her withering state.
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Posted: Mon Mar 18, 2019 8:01 pm
Cesc tried not to dial into the auras of those around him--years of practice had allowed what used to be a din to become soft white noise: some patrons were happy and secure, others weren’t, it wasn’t his business. He’d accepted that these days.
But today, he kept one ear open, waiting for Eden’s familiar aura to come into his space and ripple through the others. He noticed her before he would have visually, looking up with the alertness of the animal he partly was. There she was--a small figure in an oversized jacket and a black beanie, with less than half of her usual brightness. Cesc was surprised despite himself; he’d forgotten what her eyes looked like without her usual eyeliner, and he could hear Ulla’s voice chastising him in his head when he fished for words to say: Oh, I don’t look good without makeup on?
But the rest of Eden’s suspected pattern didn’t come; he went directly from his brief surprise to a broad smile. She’d come! She was able to float, she was able to apply some of her usual makeup, she cared about her appearance. That there was something the matter was no longer a question, but that she was at least trying was, in itself, a relief.
“Eden, hey! Thanks for coming! Yeah, it’s pretty nice, right?” He reached out to hug her and tried not to linger on the way she felt miniscule in his arms, patting the thinness of her back as he ushered them both through the doors. “Let’s go in; it’s pretty cold.”
A hostess dressed in a gentle blue smiled at them as they entered. Behind her, the group of girls Rhedefre had just seen were taking pictures. One main girl posed, smiled, shifted, smiled, shifted, and smiled again for her crew.
It wasn’t difficult to see why. Inside, the cafe smelled gently, appetizingly, of rose and cream and champagne. The gentle tufted pink walls called out to be touched, the glittering chandelier above decadent and warm. There were tableclothed tables in the middle of the space and booths that lined the perimeter, upholstered in the same pink as the walls. The booth tables were bare but made of something veined like marble, and set with golden forks and chargers.
The proud display table up front were filled with cheeky desserts decorated to look like vintage quilted purses, and strings of pearls. A tower of champagne flutes stood behind the main cashier, and a hand-calligraphed sign proclaiming a champagne of the each weekday stood elegantly beside it. More traditional desserts--colored macarons in flavors like ‘bubbly’, earl grey, moroccan mint and raspberry and rose--also stood in their own soldierly lines.
“Bonjour, welcome to Palais Rose,” the hostess said primly. “This is our friends and family event… do you have a reservation?”
Cesc tried not to watch the scene behind her, turning his attention to the hostess. “Rhedefre LaCelle, yeah.”
The hostess poked at a white iPad, nodding. “Two for a booth, is that right?”
“That’s right.”
“Right this way, please.” She took two crisp white menus from a stack and beckoned for the two to follow her, leading them to a far booth in the space. She took the small golden ‘reserved’ sign from it and set down the menus, leaving them with a smile and a quick: “Enjoy.”
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Posted: Mon Mar 18, 2019 8:08 pm
Relieved to see nothing but warmth on Rhedefre’s face, Eden’s own smile widened. She returned his hug as best she could with her arms determined to remain close to her body, and she managed to keep her jaw from chattering when she replied. “Yes please, it’s freezing!”
She followed him inside almost shyly, peeking around his shoulder once they approached the hostess stand. She instantly caught sight of the group of girls posing for and taking countless pictures, but her lips didn’t twist into a smile like they normally would. Instead her smile faltered and her lashes fluttered as she took a slow, deep breath. They were having fun, and it looked so effortless, so easy. Was it really? Did they care what people thought, how many likes they got, or if their clothes were arranged just so? Or did they post willy-nilly just for the fun of it? A bitter, sour knot lodged itself in her throat before she looked away and focused instead on the cafe’s decor.
It was gorgeous--there was no other word suitable. Millennial blush pink, pristine white marble and shining gold, the perfect aesthetic. The chandeliers that hung above them glittered and cast an aura of soft light over the big open space. How had she not heard of this place before Cesc’s invitation? Oh, right--she hadn’t left the house in weeks unless Ian had dragged her. Occasionally she would venture down to the shop to waste some time or play with the arrangements in the back, but those trips were always short. Eventually the dull roar of all of those plants would give her a migraine and she would have to leave. And she wasn’t blind; she always noticed the way Ian watched her go, like she might never come out again.
Once she and Cesc were seated--thankfully toward the back of the cafe--Eden let herself smile again. “This is gorgeous! You said your friend owns the place? Lucky~” She eagerly grabbed her menu with a click of her nails on the marble table, but the visible excitement on her face flickered like a dying bulb. Why was she bothering? She couldn’t eat any of it. And if she could, it was only the simple, boring things. She swallowed thickly and set the stiff white paper back down and her bright grin was back in a mere moment. Unfortunately, the impeccable lighting in the cafe only highlighted what was wrong. Her braid was clearly not bubblegum pink, and her eyes were definitely not their usual bright spring green. Though she had never been tan, the soft golden hue of her skin had faded to a pale cream.
“So! How’ve you been? How’s Ulla, you engaged yet?” Her wry, teasing smile was stretched too wide and showed too many teeth, but her eyes were warm.
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Posted: Mon Mar 18, 2019 8:12 pm
While she looked around and at the menu, Rhedefre took the moment to study Eden. It wasn’t a trick of the light, filters, or his imagination. Outside, in the cold, he held some hope that the winter gloom cast itself over her face. Inside, surrounded by beauty and luxury, she was unmasked: her face was carefully made up, but the color was perhaps just off of what seemed to be paler skin, her hair was stripped and her eyes dulled. Her aura, too, settled on her like itchy wool, fluttering with discomfort.
She set her menu down with dissatisfaction and Cesc could not quite bring a smile to his eyes. Her question, too, almost dragged an audible groan from his lips, but he managed a wry shake of his head instead. He looked down at his own menu, reading the appetizers (English tea sandwiches, cheese whirls, cucumber cups with shots of gazpacho), and answered:
“I’m pretty good! Not engaged—Ulla’s been good, but she’s been pretty stressed lately,” he said with a shrug. He looked up at her, locking eyes. “We’re ok.”
Cesc held her gaze, his eyes quiet. “How about you?” His voice was gentle without being prying or pitying, and the words fell soft like a blanket unfurled.
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Posted: Mon Mar 18, 2019 8:19 pm
Yikes. The less-than-warm reaction to her question was enough to give Eden the feeling she’d poked a frayed nerve. If Ulla was stressed, Cesc would be stressed too--she knew that for certain. Sure, he had the whole emotional radar thing, but stress in any relationship tended to reach out with its claws and sink them in whenever it could. It had happened with her and Peter, and quite insidiously at that. Even a hint of a sour mood on his or her part would ruin their shared aura or even an entire date. Near the end, just the sight of his jaw hitching forward had made her own clench.
But the way Cesc looked at her then, determined but cautious, made her polite smile fade. There was a long moment where she merely held his gaze in return, but then she stretched her lips into a sweet smile and propped her chin in her hand. “Oh, I’m good. A little bored and tired with all this cold weather, but good. I guess winter doesn’t agree with me. It’s a shame; I like how cozy it is.” Was she rambling? Probably. Even if she didn’t see pity in his eyes, she knew the unmistakable look of someone who was afraid to push too hard, afraid of dropping the fragile vase. “But I’m good! I mean--Christmas is coming up, why wouldn’t I be good?” Her laugh was a bit too sudden and breathy for her liking, but she maintained the grin that came with it.
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Posted: Mon Mar 18, 2019 8:20 pm
Why wouldn’t I be good?
The words hung in the air and Cesc let them float without an answer, watching her, the sweet tilt of her smile, the practiced grace and nonchalance in her pose. He didn’t know how to approach it, this particular armor she wore, the gentle prettiness that covered the lack of vibrancy and quiet exhaustion. This, this was her strong suit, putting a better face on things. This was a power she was not born with, one she’d cultivated until it was practically magic.
He didn’t know what to do against it, or if he even should. In the wake of her smile, his eyes were quiet and his face drawn, his mouth an even line. He did not wear a complementary mask. The rolling sun in his eyes seemed to try to coax her, like the star would a flower: please, it said, please unfurl for me. But he blinked the expression away and glanced down, drawing in a breath as he chose his words.
A waitress dressed in blue walked up, filling their water cups from a glass pitcher.
“Would you like a few moments?” She asked after telling her name—Madeline—and welcoming them to the cafe. Her smile was invincibly oblivious to the table’s mood, for which Cesc was thankful. Cesc pulled up the menu and took the respite willingly, still unsure of what to say to his companion.
“Actually, no—“ he said quickly. “We’re new—I guess everyone is, yeah?” He smiled up at Madeline. “I’ll have a… Bellini, whichever one you think is the best fruit flavor. And I’ll take the English tea sandwiches and two of the desserts you think taste and look the best. Surprise us.”
Madeline smiled. “That’s going to be hard! We’ve got a lot of those. Do you like chocolate or fruit more?”
“Let’s do one of each.”
“Absolutely. And for you, Miss?”
She looked expectantly at Eden, and took her drink order as it was given. She collected the menus and then left again with that same smile, seemingly taking Cesc’s away with her.
And when he decided she was far enough away, Rhedefre let out another breath, putting his palms on the table.
“Why wouldn’t you be ok? I—I don’t actually know that, Eden. But I don’t believe you,” he said with quiet, apologetic frankness. “I just…” Cesc lifted his shoulders. The intensity in his gaze softened.
“Let’s pretend for a second. Let’s pretend you like listening to a song, like you’re used to hearing a certain type of music every winter. Something chill, sure, maybe even subdued—that’s fine—but definitely a certain sound you’ve grown accustomed to. And let’s say this winter you turn on the radio, and you’re waiting for the song, but instead…instead, god, all you get is mic feedback. Let’s say you wait; you say, someone else will fix it. Let’s say you’re willing to believe the radio’s broken, or the musician will tune that right up, or… or something. But you wait weeks, and you check in, and it’s still there, you can’t…” He looked down, then back up at her. “You can’t stop hearing it. Tell me you wouldn’t at least try to see what was up. Tell me you’d believe it, really believe it, when they tell you the song’s the same.”
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Posted: Mon Mar 18, 2019 8:32 pm
The waitress’s arrival came just when she needed it, and Eden let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She ordered without really thinking, an all-fruit smoothie that was sure to be beautiful but also entirely overpriced. At least she’d managed to order; only the long pause that had echoed between them when the waitress turned to her had drawn her attention away from the delicate veining in the marble table.
She should have known he wouldn’t believe her. Last winter, she’d been happily posting away online with no sign of any faded colors or other issues. He wasn’t dumb. In fact, Cesc might just be the most observant person in her life. Not that Ian didn’t try; running a business often kept him busy and tired.
But she didn’t have the opportunity to attempt an explanation or even to try dismissing his worries. She watched his face as he talked and the metaphor sank in. Her whole life was on display--and not even involuntarily. She’d practically broadcasted her every thought to the world, albeit the most perfect and expertly groomed version. But when Cesc looked up at her again she couldn’t meet his eyes and looked down at her hands as they hung uselessly in what would be her lap. She picked at the skin beside her thumb nail in silence for a long moment until she couldn’t see it anymore. She felt the pain of broken skin, but it was all a cloudy blur.
The tears came before she could even think about stopping them, a messy tangle of emotions clawing at her chest and tightening her throat. “I don’t--” Her voice came out shaky and broken and she sank down her seat. The denim jacket she wore seemed to engulf her, but she regretted not letting her hair hang loose. With it carefully twisted into a braid she had nothing to help shield her face. Instead, she was forced to bring her hands up to cover her wet cheeks and wobbly grimace.
But at the same time… He’d noticed. Someone had noticed, and been brave enough to say something. Had she been doing this for that reason all along? No, it couldn’t be. She had always made a point to camouflage her sadness and hide her suffering in any way she could. How could she possibly explain? Even Cesc, having lived all of this before and survived, couldn’t completely understand.
“It’s just… i-it’s too much,” she croaked. Thankfully their booth was more secluded than others, but she still turned toward the wall slightly. He shouldn’t see her like this. She knew her face was crumpled and red and ugly; if only this soft pink velvet could swallow her whole! Trembling fingers swiped frantically at the tears that continued to fall as she drew in a shaky breath. “I--I don’t know...what to do anymore. Nothing I do is right, it’s--never enough! I’m a ******** leech!” Her voice twisted into a pitiful whimper before a quiet sob finally broke through.
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Posted: Mon Mar 18, 2019 8:41 pm
Cesc exhaled audibly, like he’d been struck, watching Eden’s mask crumble, his eyebrows lifting and his lips parting. Eden! His heart tightened in his chest as he watched her hands flew up to her face, trying desperately to wipe away the emotion betrayed there. He half-stood, unsure--would it be worse to sit beside her, to crowd her? Would she hate it, the feeling of someone close and invasive while she felt so terrible? Would he make it worse?
But he couldn’t, he couldn’t stay as he was, watching her helplessly. His throat dry, his jaw tight, Rhedefre did it anyway, stood and switched sides of the booth, perching himself on the corner and reaching for her, a hand on her shoulder. His touch was gentle, his presence steady: if she wanted to turn toward him, he would be there. If she wanted to turn further away, he would go back again.
At the edge of the booth, a small glittering barrier appeared, as though the sun was reflecting off a shining surface--subtle, but enough to keep any prying eyes turned away from the glare, giving Eden privacy.
“It’s ok,” he breathed, gentle. “It’s ok, let it out.”
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Posted: Mon Mar 18, 2019 8:50 pm
Eden’s throat ached with the effort of holding back her louder sobs, and her fingers wrapped tightly around the edge of her beanie as she curled in on herself. Just allowing the tears to finally fall felt as if she had thrown the door wide open. She couldn’t explain, and didn’t try to; all she could do was cry now. So when Cesc’s hand landed softly on her shoulder it came as a surprise. She hadn’t noticed he’d moved from his spot across from her. The gentle weight helped to ground her and her sobbing slowly tapered off.
The small faded Frei hiccuped as she drew in a shaky breath and finally pulled her hands away from her face. There were soft black smudges on her sleeves, and just the sight of them caused a flare in her panic and she wiped at her undereyes again. Her sniffles were wet and ugly and she let out a heavy, long breath through pursed lips. Despite Cesc’s cautious comfort she neither turned toward him nor away, and she swallowed thickly as she focused on the marble table.
After a very long moment of silence broken only by more sniffles and another heavy sigh, Eden finally lifted her head. She looked toward the ceiling and blinked frantically, her fingers careful and delicate as she wiped at her cheeks but tried to avoid smudging her mascara. Her eyes and nose were red and puffy, her lips swollen from biting them between her teeth to silence her cries. “Hoo, sorry, I--” She had to swallow hard again and wiped at her nose with her sleeve. “Ugh, gross…” It came out as a soft laugh, but there was none of the usual music in it. She pressed a hand firmly over her mouth before her spine straightened.
“I...didn’t know that much had built up--sorry. You probably weren’t expecting that, huh?”
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Posted: Mon Mar 18, 2019 8:52 pm
She didn’t move, and neither did Cesc. He stayed where he was, his thumb smoothing gently over her shoulder, his face drawn and his eyes quiet. There was such discomfort in her aura, so many conflicting emotions he couldn’t dig through, and all he felt was sorry. Sorry that it took him so long to reach out, sorry that this was how she had to unburden herself, sorry that she didn’t have the support she needed to never, never feel this way.
This was the second time he’d heard her call herself a leech. Where did that come from? Why was that even in her vocabulary for how to describe herself?
“Can’t say I did,” he replied with his eyebrows lifted. “But I’d say you needed it.” He straightened slightly, dropping his hand from her shoulder. “Eden, I’m so sorry for whatever is going on right now in your life that’s making you feel like this. I know I probably don’t have any good answers for you, but do you want to talk about it?”
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