[PRP] This is fine (Shiloh & Melany)

[shibrogane]

"It's okay," said Melany, patting his arm again.

The little coffee place she led him to wasn't a starbucks. It was one of those fancy faux-Parisian places with crepes and quiche on the menu. It wasn't so fancy that there were waiters, but like, there were tablecloths. Judging from the jokes she exchanged with the cashier, Melany came here fairly often. She got black coffee and a crepe Suzette. Then she looked over to Shiloh. "The usual?"

The cashier smiled close-mouthed at him.

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

Shiloh tried not to be bothered by the touch.

"The usual." He affirmed, completely unaware of what the usual was, slightly bothered that he had apparently done this enough times to have a usual. He found himself focused on the tablecloths; this place was still way expensive, especially for his tastes.

"So, did I miss anything else?" He tried to make idle conversation after the order was placed. Was he being empathetic enough? It felt weird to use the word empathetic in regards to Melany, but he added, "You... been okay?"

shibrogane

 

[shibrogane]

"Nah. You didn't come for my exhibition though, jerk." Melany paid and led the way over to one of the more isolated tables. "It wasn't much though, don't feel bad."

She sat and a busboy brought over their coffees. (Shiloh got something frothy and caramel. The foam on top had a cat face.) "I got your class schedule for you since I figured you might've forgotten," she said. "I didn't think sociology was that intense, so, good for you!" She passed it across. "We have the same math class."

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

Shiloh watched the coffee as it was set in front of him. Despite everything, the cat face was actually extremely cute, and he found himself genuinely happy at the presentation of it. Made it hard for him to actually want to drink it though.

"...Sociology?" He went from looking calm to utterly baffled as he plucked up the schedule, eyebrows scrunching up at the list of classes. He was already completely sure that he was going to fail everything. "The ********...? looks like it." His hand shook a little as he set the paper back down. "Thanks."

He looked to the coffee again, watching the cat foam as it smiled up at him. What was your secret to happiness, cat foam? At least he didn't feel like throwing up on his shoes anymore, he was calm, could keep calm, was calm. He found himself glancing around the cafe a few times, keep a lid on it Beaumont, "When... do classes start again?" He was trying to keep from looking too exasperated.

shibrogane

 

[shibrogane]

"The twenty-fifth," said Melany. Shiloh's cat latte was in a huge latte mug, but her coffee was just a boring black in a boring tall mug. "D'you want to go get textbooks with me? You can get your own syllabus, I'm not your mom. And study group will pick back up on the twenty-seventh. You know, if you and Delacroix wanna show your faces."

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

Oh my god why do you know Jamie leave him out of this why—

"Sure." He picked up his mug, swirling the contents around. How much would textbooks cost, he wondered? Considering that was about all he ever heard about; the woes of the poor college student and their $200 a piece books. "Jame prolly wouldn't mind." <********. ********. ******** sure if I don't turn up I'll flunk." He kept swooshing the coffee, "Maybe I'll flunk anywa—"

An overestimated swirl sent some of the probably-overpriced liquid over the edge, splashing onto his hand. It wasn't bad or even enough to burn, but it stirred the flowers in his skin up anyway. One bud, two buds—he swore and smashed his hand over top the area.

shibrogane

idiot moronloh

 

[shibrogane]

Melany's response was as immediate as Shiloh's. She smacked a hand over his, probably harder than was strictly necessary, and squeezed. Something oddly, blessedly cool spread from that point of contact, dulling the magical impulses in the same way as anesthetic dulled nerve response. "Be careful," she snapped, and for a moment the angles of her face went eldritch, her dark hair seemed to absorb all the light in the room. There was lightning in her eyes beneath the vantablack of her hair.

Then that moment was gone. No one seemed to have noticed. The cafe continued to trundle along. Matching crepe suzettes were set down before them, the candied orange supremes glimmering invitingly in the light.

"Don't play with your food," she said. "Since when do you grow flowers?"

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

"I-I?" Shiloh was absolutely shell shocked, panic evident. Melany looked human, but whatever just flashed by, whatever that was—

His hand flinched in a light tug, but it remained under Melany's touch. Terror was etched on his face. That was her. That was her. He couldn't hide it anymore, not after that, even if it was brief—a snippet—her.

Don't make a scene Beaumont, don't make a scene, "Court." He said in a hushed, rushed whisper. "Court—that doesn't mean anything to you, does it?" He was searching her face for any sort of expression, biting his lip, willing something out of her, anything—a clue to what the hell was going on, why they were here like this, what any of this meant. Being in court meant being removed from the cycle right? How could Melany be anyone different? it didn't work that way, did it? Or didn't it?

"I—I'm sorry, I—" His hand was shaking, but it had never really stopped, "I have to—" Have to what? He couldn't get the words out. His memories of being a tithe ripped him apart in ways he couldn't even start to describing.

Christ.

shibrogane

 

[shibrogane]

Melany's face went very still. Her eyes narrowed for a heartbeat. But that eldritch quality, the alien angles, didn't come back. "Have to what," she asked. "You're going to pass out, Shiloh. Sit down."

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

"Have to go, ********, I don't know—"

He took a deep breath, writhing in his seat, fighting the urge to bolt. If Melany was wondering as to why he looked so exhausted lately, this might be a window why; Shiloh was prone as ******** to stress, but he usually kept he panic under a tight lock. Anxiety attacks weren't something he experienced frequently.

"Your face, it—" He stared at his hands—anything to keep himself grounded—"You think I'm crazy don't you? You don't know, don't remember—"

Another deep breath, though this one wheezed. He was trying to keep it quiet, trying to keep others from looking at their table, god for ******** bid.

"Or do you?" His voice was rough when he looked up at her—looked absolutely broken—with something caught between fear and hostility and pain; the sort of look a friend probably shouldn't give another friend. How can you trust a friend who's only ever hurt you in the past, their inherent fault or not? Either way, he was pretty sure it was ruined now, but that was the last of his concerns.

shibrogane

oops

 

[shibrogane]

Melany did not know what to do. This was obvious. Her hands fluttered and she glanced away towards the counter like she didn't want anyone to see. "No, I don't think you're crazy," she said to him under her breath, "Can you like, I don't know--" She made an abortive movement towards her phone, stopped to think. "Can you like, breathe with me or something? Does that help? I don't have a paper bag or anything."

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

"You don't?" Because he was pretty sure he was crazy, absolutely one-hundred percent sure he was out of his goddamn mind, because in no other instance could he be sitting in some cafe venue with Melany of all the goddamn people. He took a deep breath, looking at her gestures, following her glances to all of the other people present. Public, right. Composure. Get it together Beaumont.

He breathed again, still shaking, but not necessarily on the verge of hyperventilating. "It—I'm fine," He said this out of necessity. He was fine because he had to be. "I'm fine, everything is fine, this is fine." How was he supposed to go about this...?

"When you touched me, I saw—I saw something really bad." He looked to his lap, voice quiet and still a little scratchy, "It reminded me of something really bad."

shibrogane

 

[shibrogane]

"Oh," said Melany, and she still took a very obvious, very deep breath, as if inviting him to breathe along. "I'm sorry?" She settled her hands around her coffee and took a sip of it. Her eyes (still a clear gray) drifted down away from his face. "I didn't intend to."

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

Shiloh followed the cue, breathing with her, settling down. "It's..." alright? was it though? "You didn't mean to?" exhale.

He searched her features for a second before added, "I don't remember you." He looked at the crepe's, "I don't... remember anything. It was November 1st, and then it was December 18th." It felt good to get it off his chest, but he was guilty about it too; his voice was sill quiet though as he spoke, intended only between the two of them. "That's why I wasn't responding to you. I don't know what happened..."

Except he did, but in his defense it still didn't explain the massive time gap.

shibrogane

 

[shibrogane]

"Did you hit your head," asked Melany, whose face gave little away except what looked to be concern. "Concussions can do that. Um, do you need to see, like, a therapist? There's a guy I know who does..." She twiddled her fingers. "Magic stuff. So he could help? Maybe?"

She looked kind of helplessly worried. It was weird, and made her look very little like the Spinel Lady at all.

Melancholies