smash_logs | He really needs to stop getting himself into these situations.

Who: Cyrus and Voile
What: Tea and sympathy. And lectures about how sympathy is meaningless.
Where: Cyrus's apartment
When: Thursday around 3
Warnings: Oh, the usual.

Something was upsetting Cyrus. Not that he would ever admit it, including to himself, but both the physical and mental signs were there.

He avoided the conclusion and attempted to treat the symptoms. Lethargy, stomachache, loss of appetite--not that he ate much to begin with, but even his daily nutrient drink had gone undrunk until evening some days.

And now Voile was coming over and there was nothing he could do about it. Well, there were a few things. He could hide. He could go elsewhere. He could leave the school and never return (although for anyone to find that device in his spare bedroom, the half-built one that mirrored the ones in the nearly abandoned Galactic lab, would ensure that last part). He could repel her entirely.

But none of those were options for the time being. He'd missed her. Not that he would ever admit it, including to himself, but both the physical and mental signs were there.

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It was like a never-ending dance. A never. Ending. Dance. Cyrus was always going to be the same and while half of Voile had wanted to just give up and let him do whatever it was he was going to do, she couldn't deny when she felt terrible, she felt terrible. In the end, Cyrus was still at least some form of a friend and Voile wanted to try to do something. If she didn't, she'd just be angry with herself for it later and that was truly exhausting. No sense in getting stressed if nothing was going to come out of it.

Far easier said than done.

It was growing colder and Voile had invested in ruffles, of course, but tasteful dresses over dress blouses and rather feminine garb. What a shame it would have been if she'd been a boy. On the other hand, she would have been the loveliest boy she imagined.

Her hands lifted and she dusted herself off before fidgeting with her hair. Not that Cyrus would ever notice. He probably didn't care. And stupid things like that ticked her off. She had no right to get ticked off. It wasn't like she was anything to him except a step up the social ladder to his final... whatever step it was. So perhaps that was what made her so angry.

No matter. She was at the door. And she knew what came next. A knock. Her knock, to be more precise.

He had been waiting by the door for just that sound, and opened it before she was finished. "Voile." After a pause he added "You look well." Another pause and "Come in," accompanied by him opening the door wider and stepping away, still watching her.

She gave him a nice bow in return and took his implied invitation. At least he answered the door. He could have run away with his tail between his legs, which was sort of what she was expecting. Her head tips this way and that and she dusts off the skirts to her dress and wears for him a smile.

Smile, Voile, and the world smiles with you.

"I brought you something," she announced with that ever expected optimism.

"It is unnecessary to do so," he told her, closing the door behind her. "Although I expected that you would. It would be meaningless to decline it." He simply looked at her further, not quite expectantly and not quite blankly.

Of course. He always expected it and really didn't care. She tried not to look too annoyed with him and that was hard. It was like he was stretching her thin and she just wanted to break apart. Or something.

So a subject change, she decided. "What kind of tea did you make?"

That was their custom, wasn't it? He would serve tea, she would speak about his emotions, and they would part. But he went to the counter just the same. "It is only hot water now. Although Selene gifted me with something new, if you would care to try it." He poured a cup of water for her, although he knew it would only go down the same path as always. But he could delay it for a bit. "You spoke of bringing something. May I see it?"

She nodded to him, a quiet affirmation. Of course she wanted to try whatever it was Selene had given him. She was such a nice girl, really, and Voile was very appreciative of her kindnesses.

"Hm... You sound like you care. But I know that can't be true, so no. You may not see it," she replied in that serious tone of hers.

"Very well," and he meant it, as he set the bag in the water and watched it saturate and sink. It would be up to her to strengthen it, and he wondered if there was a hidden meaning in that or if he was simply sleep-deprived.

"I have not slept well," he said while he was thinking of it. "It has interfered with my ability to teach."

"Of course you have," Voile stated quietly.

She remained tentative and thoughtful when she considered what he said. He hadn't slept well? It interfered with his ability to teach? Wiser judgment said she should keep some thoughts to herself. The other side said she wanted to deliberately insult him.

"A little more honesty wouldn't kill you."

He was being honest, wasn't he? He hadn't slept well and it had interfered with his ability to teach. Those were true statements. "I am being entirely honest," he told her. "I have not said any falsehoods."

He really needs to stop getting himself into these situations.

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