May 15, 2015

In Which Farilon Makes It Personal

January 28, 1192

"Farilon! I thought you would have gone back to your house by now."

"I'm on my way there right now." Farilon kissed CeeCee on the cheek and stepped back, his hand still on her arm. She didn't brush him aside, which was a good sign. So... surely there was an explanation that wasn't personal? "I was just passing by and thought I'd come see you."

"Really? I would have figured I'd see plenty of you once term started."

"I guess so." Was that an opening? It seemed a little obvious. But maybe it wasn't? He wasn't good at this. "But, uh... if you want to see even more of me, there's still time to rearrange your class schedule."

CeeCee pulled back her arm. Yes--too obvious. "What."

"Well, you said you'd maybe take one of my classes this semester, but you aren't signed up for--"

"You do know the meaning of 'maybe', right?"

Someone needed to write more books on social situations. "Yes..."

"So you realize that there was always the possibility that I wouldn't."

"Yes, but... I thought we were friends."

"So I'm obligated to take your classes just because we're friends?"

"No, but..."

"But what? A lot of other people signed up for your classes, so it's not like you need me in there to fill a seat. Why do you keep pestering me about this?"

Did he really have to spell it out? Should he spell it out?

"Damn it, CeeCee, there just aren't many people I feel comfortable around!"

"And not many who feel comfortable around you, if this is how you act when you don't get your way!"

God. She had a point there. But what else was he supposed to do? Rolling over and being miserable didn't work either. "I'm sorry, all right. I just... damn it, I thought you'd be interested in my classes."

"Well, maybe I'm interested in other things too. Or maybe you just thought wrong. Or maybe--" She scowled, riled further by the mere thought. "--I just don't like other people telling me what I should or shouldn't be doing!"

"So it's personal?"

"At this point, maybe it is." She tossed her head to the side, at just the right angle to allow for the sight of her flaring nostrils. "Now, would you rather leave on your own, or should I find a guard to escort you?"



Van said...

The narrative in this post didn't want to exist. My throbbing frontal lobe didn't want to force it. So, meh.

S.B. said...

I am so happy to be back and reading your work again!

Is this one of those circular therefore doomed attempts to discover an intention that is changed by the attempt to discover it? The sorry I feel for Farilon is strong....

Van said...

Welcome back! It's good to see you around the internets again. :)

Quite possibly. CeeCee does have more on her mind there, which we'll see in a few posts.