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Tyrese flipped his book back to the current page to finish up what checks were left, as he often did them in alphabetical order by last name. It was certainly very organized, though it was practical for nothing more than giving him satisfaction, and speeding up the rate at which he could pass out each hand-labeled envelope. He should consider working the weekends, especially since it meant having Sela on school days; he wouldn't be burying the sitter any less just because of it, not unless he brought Sela here- which he wouldn't with how much he was often moving around or busy in the kitchen. He himself would rather home school than have someone else more or less raise his kid. Even more so, he could arrange to have the same days off as Aubrey. So why not?

His hand dropped from his own navy tendrils as he heard Rylee speak, his head shaking. "I get how some parents don't have anywhere to leave their kids during the day if not school, but that certainly is a selfish risk to make other children and parents take." Not that he couldn't sympathize; he was in a relationship, but still very much considered himself a single father. Would Aubrey want to mother Sela if it risked involvement with Lillian? He couldn't blame her if not. While he didn't feel she disliked Sela...The wolf silently dismissed his thoughts while handing over the check. Sela had managed to get her fairy wings on, running over to wipe the glitter off on his pants. He huffed at her, pressing one eyebrow inward. Her swore, this girl sometimes.

"Ug, baby girl, just ask daddy for a wet wipe next time. Daddy isn't a towel." Tyrese dusted his pant leg, imagining a nightmare of months full of stray glitter fragments appearing all over his office. The Hoover never got them all. Nodding when Rylee said she must leave, the wolf set aside his pen and rose to walk her to the door, even if it wasn't far. "Sure thing, travel safe, yeah? We won't be much longer either" And without a prompt, Sela said goodbye as well, or rather, "Good day old chap!" Which she had learned from her father. He hummed amusement, taking hold of the door knob and tucking his other hand along his belt loops. "Ah, tell him hello." Even if he was only saying it just for show, if not because he annoyed the blunette with texts any other time of the day.



Out Of Chamomile:

Tyrese worked the pads of his good fingers against his left temple, his head leaned down as he willed himsef to work with the fluorescent white computer screen stationed in front of him, it’s usual programs on silent display. Day two, though it really felt like a second lifetime. Despite the occasional dependency on caffeinated teas and coffees, the wolf had graduated to monsters since just yesterday, mostly inspired by the products Aubrey kept in the fridge along with his insomnia leading to two nights of no sleep. Why should he be able to sleep? Barring family, Lillian was the first woman he’d ever let into his life, and the lost of her felt so...mechanical and removed from him. It was a repeat of his mother if anything; the only difference being his ability to keep functioning -on some level- for Sela and Aubrey. Right hand stitched, bandaged and mostly immobile- active working attempts were frustrating, but made; its not like the sum of it could reflect on the emotions he’d already let pile up since the days before, anyway. In that time he had done, perhaps, some of the worst things he could do: he’d torrented the video, that video, and had watched it. His reaction had been to scream on the bathroom floor for God knows how long, and then he’d not only avoided telling his girlfriend what was wrong when she arrived home from work later that hour, but he had then lied about the injury to his hand. Well, he had never been much for lying, it was more like he didn’t word the truth in a way that was forthcoming about the harm being fully intentional. Paranoia that a confrontation over it lurked at the end of the day kept Tyrese more on edge, his vaguely conscious mind already made up that he would perhaps leave rather than confront. Even knowing deep down that Aubrey would be supportive, a bigger part of himself was convinced that lamenting over his ex was inappropriate on it’s own level; all he wanted was to hang onto who he had in his life right now, but not at the expense of making the brunette uncomfortable or even insecure in communicating what enshrouded his thoughts as of late.

The wolf sighed heavily, lightly shifting his mouse to keep his computer from switching into sleep mode. The rain kept him from feeling entirely consumed, the warm drizzle bringing to mind the picture of the petite brunette who found content in this kind of weather; and the loud mouthed little blueberry who began her morning by dancing in it. He was glad, in a way, that Sela’s little mind couldn’t understand what he had told her two nights ago. As her father, he had put it the simplest way possible, with gentle vocabulary and soft terminology; all she really knew to do with the information was to repeat it, lighting up as he mentioned ‘mommy.’ Though, the rest? There was no recognition for the permanence of her ‘sickness’, no reflection on the explanation that Mommy was taking a very long nap, and that they had to tell her goodnight for just as long a time. The mindless way she’d turned her attention to her toy, next chanting his name and pointing at what she wanted him to look at, it was what Tyrese expected. The father had gone through great lengths, too, more so to prepare himself for the talk. The plan had, in its final execution, involved taking her to the aquarium, followed by a long walk on the beach to collect sea shells, and ending with dinner at Micky C’s. He couldnt manage dinner with a shreaded palm, besides; it’s functionality had already weaned since having to bare through getting stiches sewn into it just prior to picking Sela up -late- from the sitter. Still, her naivety had come as a relief; though just the same, he let her teachers know what was going on in the rare case the toddler should suddenly start acting out or shutting down in class. Their mortified and pitying looks were almost wounding, though not without the assurance his daughter would be well looked after- and in the long run, she’d be okay. He really hoped so.

Tyrese ground his jaw, curling his fingernails into his jeans until he could feel them sting the flesh of his leg underneath. Shoving his face into the bandaging of the remaining hand, abrupt sobs began to escape his lips, heavy tears soaking into his shirt, the same as he’d worn for two days strait- and counting. Damn it, damn it! The feelings had been numb, almost empty until now, but in the moment of his slipped guard, they rushed forward and claimed the what ground he had won. Vivid images of running a razor the short length across his arm played in his mind’s eye, making him consider as he strained to bottle the pain back up. For the immediate moment, it would almost feel pleasurable, the utter reverie he’d feel as the physical pain overrode the crazed chemical imbalance keeping him just under the surface, despite his desperate struggling. He almost gave in, knowing the razor was in the desk drawer, clattered there after the last time he failed to deny the urge. He wanted to this time, body shaking with quiet wails while another side of himself attempted to reign it all in. What was he supposed to do? He just wanted to go back to bed and not leave it for another week. That simply wasnt an option, even if it was it’s own battle just to push the blankets aside each sunrise. Dammit with this, the way it was always her throwing these wrenches into his life, one way or the other. Tyrese wiped one cheek with the gauzed appendages, clamping his lips down until his sobs were barred. He couldn’t afford to do any of this right now, he would just have to suck it up until the day was over and he was in his bed. Lord knows that couldn't happen soon enough. He just wanted to sleep.

Out Of Chamomile:

Tyrese chugged at the tangy liquid of his energy drink as he made his slightly bustled way towards the front lobby, crunching the tin can in his hand and slipping behind the counter space his receptionist and -by sheer circumstance- secretary, found refuge. As he half collasped into his rolling chair, he let the time on the face of the analog clock burn into the back of his eyes, soon snapping them over to his wrist watch as if to compare their respective accuracies. Time always felt slower when no one was coming in, but rather than wait while his own sanity chipped away in his office, the wolf decided to vist reception to find much needed company with the quiet bookworm. Searching for something to speak into the silence, and saying, ”Hey. What’s well?” he crossed one leg over his knee and settled into staring out of the textured glass of the automatic doors. One hand was free to resume his book, which he’d brought along with him just in case, only for it to really act as intelligent decor on his thigh; he instead busied the limb with flinging his trash into the rubbish bin, afterwards hooking his elbow on the back of his chair and laying his pointer finger over his lips. That last can out of his fridge had better last him the rest of his shift, hours it’d hurt to cut out of his paycheck by sending himself home early. Well, it wouldn't really hurt all that much, but he’d still rather have the hours.

”And how’s Leon?” This question would somewhat bring on a smile, his resting leg slowly helping his chair idle one way and then the other. The notion of her significant other working beneath his own had incited a few harmless toe to toe threats between himself and Aubrey, perhaps to the two teen’s exasperation. He’d -playfully- threaten to have the blonde screen the bar owner if he suspected she’d be dropping by with a devious plan to distract him during work, but in what way would she threaten to punish Leon if Sarah didnt let her past? She always had a card up her sleeve. The author simmered his smile as he blinked, averting his focus back to the seemingly unchanging clock- the numbers playing confidently into the illusion. Three days was impossible, he’d realized that last night; unlike his mother, or even when Lillian cheated, the bluentte simply couldn’t find it in himself to shut down this time. The process felt too exhausting, and yet...Trying to talk to her the several times he had last night, all failed. Each time he willed himself to open his mouth, he would feel outmatched by the anxiety and energy of doing so. The more he pushed to say it, the higher that intangible wall of effort climbed to exceed it, staying just enough ahead to desolve his efforts into their trademark silence, jaw grinding and eyes tearing all the while. Frustrating.

Aubrey hadn’t seen this side of him yet, what he was like during one of his spirals, as he called them. There were all these things wrong with him that he hadn't told her about, things he would have to explain before even starting to believe she could understand why he behaved the way he did. The BPD, the depression, the eating disorders, the self harm, the alcoholism, the occasional way he slept around; the self destruction and the self sabotaging; the self loathing, the codependency, the insomnia— And wasn’t that too much baggage? He found himself waiting until it felt like telling her wouldn't also bother or burden her, but it wasnt like the time would ever come where the scenereo felt as perfect and safe as he imagined it should. The threshold he needed to cross before being strong enough to reveal that side felt insurmountable, as much as it was simultaneously eating away at him on the inside. The fear of judgement or rejection, the vague but looming pressure to be the ideal image of masculinity, of which he struggled to uphold even during his episodes. Too much, too much. The night had ended with defeat, the lupine laying on the couch strumming sour notes on his ukulele with his bruised thumb, singing ‘You Are My Sunshine’ to Sela as she laid on his chest, her giggles from how the vibrations tickled on her back, long lost to her sleep. When were they going to start hating him?

Tyrese shook himself free, rubbing the inner corners of his eyes before turning his gaze back to the droplets clinging to the glass doors. He needed to get out of his own head, and maybe, since it was the weekend, he’d be able to. Come to think of it, what was it that the grey eyed meta-human did with herself on her days off? The conversation was small talk, but it helped keep him present. ”Any plans for the weekend?”

Out Of Chamomile:

-- Enter --

By the time the two had arrived at Amour de la Mer, the restaurant section had been laden with the girls wanting to have a great time, minus the rowdy atmosphere associated with nightclubs. In fact, the place was fit for the moment tonight with some minor adjustments set up for the attendees, though she had to pay the fee of $75, which included the menu selection that would be served for them. Cassie was betting that the food would be worth the fee, but having fun and conversing with Esmee were the real reasons behind her showing up at that fine place. After paying for the fee, the ice mage had to find a vacant chair fit for two. It was a shame that the tables near the window were occupied, so she was resorting to the spot close to the middle.

"I have to admit that this place looks nice," she commented as she sat down, her eyes also scanning the view through the windows. The sky was reddish-orange with the sun setting down, but after a few seconds, Esmee was once again the main focus of her attention. Cassandra put the bag on the table. "So, any more that you want to describe about your first meeting with Solaris? I'm indeed so curious."

Cassandra's own hands were interlaced on the surface of the table as she listened to Esmee's story. Her lips curled up in a smile knowing that the raven-haired girl was becoming a fan of the fallen angel's music. "That's quite lovely, but you wanna know who is her biggest fan? My cousin who has become her beloved fiance. They are just so good together and I can't wait to become an aunt to their children in a few years once the two would get married. You see? Solaris is still sixteen years old when she was proposed by him. Ah... Love at first sight," she gushed; once again, the fair-haired girl was just so full of herself, proud of the relationship between those two as if it was trophy kept safe in the glass case.

Thankfully, an employee came by with two glasses of water, one for each of them, together with the menu for the food, drink and dessert that they would pick for tonight. Her blue eyes were inspecting the list with curiosity. "I have to say, they look delicious. I would like to have the meatballs drenched in tomato sauce, with the refreshing orange drink. Care to tell yours, Esmee?"

The huntress nodded upon hearing Esmee's choice for the food and drink, though there was one more detail yet to discuss with the waiter: the dessert. That would be served later once the two would be done with the entree and drink. "Oh, those desserts look lovely. I may want the hazelnut praline. Better state what you want so that the order would finished." And after Esmee would state out her choice, the waiter asked to clarify the order, and after the affirmation, he left the two alone. The place was now even more vibrant with the chattering everywhere. Definitely like every social party that took place in every Ice family household in Lumiere. It was a shame that not all of them would lead to a pleasant ending, more so when there were people tracking either the Ice family or even the lovers.

But no, Cassandra should change the subject. "It was a shame that your illness made you cut the conversation short with Solaris, but I bet you like traveling a lot. Tell me the countries you have visited before," she spoke while having to look at her fingernails. Despite being a fashionable woman, she couldn't let her nails grow because of her assassin training, so they were always neatly trimmed, though still clean.