us, again

[eyecontact]

Date & Time: 8/16
Location: civic gardens
Characters: Syllona, Jericho
Summary: PLANT DATE
Warnings: teenagers


[he's done picking through the flowers for weeds today, pants already grimy from having wiped on them.

besides, if he needed to text more, it'd take too long to clean up again.

he sits, back against one of the bare, sickly trees close enough to where he's been working, idly scratching at the latest page in his sketchbook. it's frustrating, how little he can make look right, but he's not so frustrated now.

more...anxious, really.

he's waiting for somebody.]

Comments

[eyecontact]

[the smile wanes, watching her. she's a shy, cagey sort of person – that much he knows. but he can't help but feel there's something weighing on her.

the sigh really impresses the notion, and his brow pinches, head tilting at her, questioning.

you okay?]

[lexiconning]

[ She manages eye contact for one whole second.

All the nasty thoughts have been surprisingly easy to keep at bay when she's awake, and maybe it's the lack of sleep, but before she can fight it off a tear comes.

Her hand finds it, wipes it away viciously, eyes squinting up in confusion. No, no, no! This is terrible!!

This time she curls up, already red with embarrassment and murmurs into her knees. ]

No!

[eyecontact]

[it's actually really scary the way she recoils, and most of it's simply because of all the unknowns. as much as he thinks he knows about her – most of it external, generalized, and very small-scale in what she offers him to see – it's definitely not enough to know what can cause such a reaction.

they are already treading well into those tests of boundaries, however, so he knows he's an idiot to just sit and stare. and if they're going to get anywhere beyond awkward silences and miles of text and little eye contact, well...

he reaches over and puts a hand on her shoulder, tentative for barely a beat before fingers settle on more certainly, making himself more of a presence. hey.]

[lexiconning]

[ No reaction right away, for a few moments it's nothing but deep breaths. She has to get a handle on this, has to rein it in because crying has never solved anything. It's never done her any good.

The touch helps though, it's a reminder that there's still an outside world beyond this desperate moment, and Jericho is still beside her. Slowly, shakily, she relaxes enough to lift and turn her head toward him, face pressed against her knee. Her breathing comes in big gulps of air and her cheeks are hot with the effort but any more tears have been successfully beaten back.

She frowns, guilty. This wasn't something he was meant to see... ]

[eyecontact]

[it's heart- and gut-wrenching, seeing her curled up and unhappy like that – especially with no real inkling as to why.

he knows what it's like to have something really weighty on your chest, how hard it is to let others lift that stone away.

he also knows that sometimes...it needs to be there. and maybe this was such a time? and that might mean he has no business in lifting it away, but if he wants to think himself any sort of friend, he's going to try to at least take some of that weight off if he can.

shoulders go up, then down with a slow breath, encouraging her to do the same. the hand on her shoulder slid to her shoulderblade, rubbing her back. it's alright.]

[lexiconning]

[ She nods to him and takes several breaths, a long inhale and exhale that hitch at the ends.

It's so relieving that he hasn't pulled away, but it's frightening too. Every time, every single time someone looks at her like this she can see the same eyes she knew from home, and how that kindness rotted in what felt like minutes...it digs a deeper pit in her stomach, little needles of dread.

Those faces are long gone, she has to tell herself, it was different, not like here.

She shifts to lean herself on him, mumbling an apology, eyelids pressed shut, fighting again to hold herself together. She can hear his heartbeat, and that makes her own ache. ]

[eyecontact]

[heartbeat? more like jackhammer.

Jericho bites on his next breath when she slides closer to him; it's not something he expects. not that he's not thought about being close – it's more on happier circumstances, though.

he lets his hand slide around to her other shoulder to support her settling at his side, fidgeting to sit better to suit. and then he lets out his breath, willfully pushing his jitters aside to make himself more useful for her sake.]

[lexiconning]

[ Syllona stays that way for a full minute, just breathing and listening to his heart pound away. That makes her feel bad, too, what did he think of all this?

She's not even sure what's the root cause of this outburst. Her fear of this is loud amongst the fog of things, but it's so constant it's easier to set aside. That, and she just... doesn't have the energy or desire to sort through it. It'll pass, because these things always do.

Eventually she feels calm enough to peek an eye open. ]

I can't think of what to say...

[ Hey, at the very least, she's being honest. ]

[eyecontact]

[a full minute is nearly enough to ease out of that surprise, and well enough to stop worrying about himself.

his mouth quirks a little at her remark, and he gently pats her shoulder. curious as he is, there's no real reason to say much of anything. sometimes people just needed to let bad energy out, right?]

[lexiconning]

[ That gets just the ghost of smile out of her. She raises a hand up to her shoulder and holds onto his. ]

Thanks.

[ Said solemnly, but she hopes it's enough for him to know how much this all means. ]

[eyecontact]

[he can...kind of. he's not the sort to think what he does has that much of an impact, but he does know how much it means to have someone around to vent, to hug...considering how rare it used to be for him.

he's settled down, content to sit there as long as she wants, fidgeting only a little to keep his leg from falling asleep.]

[lexiconning]

[ There's only been one other person she's ever gone to for comfort like this. This kind of proximity.

Now that the fear has passed, it occurs to her that the proper thing to do would be move away again but... well, he's warm. And Jericho doesn't seem bothered.

A happier topic would do them both good, though. ]

Do you...draw all the time?

[eyecontact]

[the unoccupied hand settled on his lap lifts after a moment's hesitation. held out flat, it gives an uncertain shake. he's not sure how to convey sometimes totally right like that...and he's not sure sometimes is actually the right answer.]

[lexiconning]

Hm. [ She nudges a small, budding flower with just the tip of her foot. Nodding out to it. ]

Just a hobby? Or, um, like when you want something peaceful to do.

[eyecontact]

[he thinks about that for a moment before sending his hand out for the book partly in question. he snags it by its spiral binding and pulls it onto his lap, yanking the pencil out of the coils and flipping pages – not frantically; she's allowed to see – to one with less clutter.

he writes:]

It helps me think and put things in order usually