[PRP] You were clearly meant for more (Shiloh & Melany)

[Melancholies]

It took a minute. It took a minute of Melany's silence and the words that followed. It took that pause after 'you're my'. It took everything right up to the apology and then—then and only then—he cracked. He crumbled. Something in him broke and he sobbed. He wasn't a resigned noble right now, nor was he any sort of dignified principal, nor was he anything except for skin-and-bones Shiloh Beaumont. He didn't look nineteen. It looked like all the years of his age suddenly washed off in an instant, all the stress that had been wearing on his shoulders since Blackfriars having come crashing down. The sound was raw in his throat and raw past his lips as he crumpled in on himself.

He felt so small.

"I-I don't want—" He croaked, "I-I don't want to see her again." His eyes were screwed shut behind his hand, "I don't w-want you to—"

He shook his head, feeling and looking and sounding defeated.

"Th-There can be a second chance," His hand fell away and he looked up, eyes already red, some frantic sort of fake-hope worn in the slight curve of his mouth, "We can fix it—w-we can fix it—there has to be a way." It sounded like he was trying to reason with himself, trying to convince himself. Instead it just brought more tears.

shibrogane

 

[shibrogane]

Melany wasn't crying. She wasn't a crier, maybe. She wasn't even a person, maybe. But she seemed human enough as she inched forward, if tired, if terrified of doing something wrong, hesitant and uncaring about the way the otherworldly sidewalk chafed her knees. Her shoes, expensive heels, were scuffed at the toes as she pulled her legs up beneath her. "I don't want you to see her either," said Melany. "I want to stay with you. I'd do anything if I knew I could do that."

She couldn't stop herself from reaching out, but she did--clenching her hand into a fist and pulling it back--she bowed her head and didn't cry, didn't cry, didn't cry. "It's okay to cry," she said. "Listen, it's okay. Just let it go. I won't leave you."

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

There was something agonizing in the way he watched her. She looked human to him—was human to him, like this—apologetic and remorseful and hurt and tired and everything that he'd never seen in the Spinel Lady. He made to attempt to subdue his tears. He hardly cried in front of other people but there wasn't any way he could go about stopping them, not when they'd already started. "You weren't supposed to find out..." He confessed his guilty conscious, "I-I was so scared when I found out it was you. When I texted you and saw you at the mall. But you were so—" He shook his head, "We were friends. I just want—no one deserves what happened, neither of us, it wasn't you, it wasn't it was her."

He took a deep breath, laden with sudden exhaustion. There wasn't anything graceful about the way he wept, his palms turned up in his lap and his eyes fixated on them, the thick tears landing heavily in them.

"Do..." He hiccuped, one of his hands rubbing furiously at his cheek, "D-Do you mean that?" He looked up again to search her face, search her posture, search anything, "You'd do anything? You mean that?"

His lip trembled for a second like he might be regaining his composure, but instead he wailed, "I really was your best friend, wasn't I?"

shibrogane

 

[shibrogane]

"I would cut off my legs if it would spare you pain," said Melany. There was something awful and earnest in the way she said it. Something true, and horrible in its truth. "I would break every bone in my feet. If there was a switch, I would flick it, if there was a button I would push it, if I could cut out the part of me that hurt you I would do it and I wouldn't even hesitate, Shiloh, you're my friend and I will not hurt you, not if I can stop it."

She reached out and this time didn't stop herself. Her hands were gentle as she thumbed away a tear. "You still are, if you want."

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

Shiloh blinked rapidly when the fingers brushed away his tears, something blank crossing his face. "D-Don't do that..." He sounded a little sheepish as his voice rattled with his sobs, "You couldn't dance anymore..." He wasn't moving away from the touch. It was gentle like Jamie's when he was in the same position. He was the only other one who ever saw him cry after all.

"Sorry..." He sniffled, "I'm not usually like this." He was echoing her from before, his expression an indescribable mix of 'still-really-upset' and 'but-I'm-still-a-d**k'. "But I still... I still wanna try. I want you to... to have a normal life and dance and—" He sighed, "I wanna be friends, too. I don't want anyone to hurt anymore. That's all." The tears didn't stop, but they slowed and ebbed, "That's all..."

shibrogane

 

[shibrogane]

"That's really brave," said Melany. No mockery. Her voice was sincere, and so was her expression. "I think you're really brave, too." She turned to her purse, on the ground beside her, and fished out one of those little packs of Kleenex. She offered one to Shiloh. (It smelled faintly of chamomile.) "Look, I don't understand what it was like, what the other me or the same me I don't know, what she did, but if that's who's trying to call me then I'll fight her with everything I've got."

She meant it.

People aren't meant to be sigils or seals, Noeh had said. Melany had been made one anyway. Noeh had said: It breaks them. If you're lucky it just breaks them physically. If you're not, their bodies are whole but their minds shatter. The Spinel Lady had been whole and beautiful. Melany was beautiful too, but in a different way, a safer way. They were the same, though. There were no cracks now... but maybe later.

"Do you still want me to text you if I black out again," she asked.

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

Shiloh took the Kleenex without much fanfare, sighing when it felt soft against his cheeks that had otherwise been rubbed raw by his hands. "I think it is..." He mumbled, sounded a little sullen, still a little small, "That was her voice that I heard. I won't forget it." A shudder of a breath, "I can't."

They said time healed all wounds, but Shiloh was still full of oozing gashes that refused to close. The scabs were finite. They always broke or ripped or tarnished in some way shape or form, but he was used to this. He knew how terrible of a demon recovery was. Usually it didn't feel like recovery at all. He didn't feel brave.

He seemed calm now despite that, shoulders still slumped, the tension eased from his body with nothing but exhaustion in its wake. He wanted to go home, but he questioned if he'd be able to actually sleep. "I do." He said slowly, "If you hear her or—or anything." He looked down at the tissue in his hands, "There... there's probably not much I can do, but I'll—I'll try and help. I'll come find you. Even if you follow her voice and get lost, I'll come find you again." It was a promise he didn't make lightly, but also one he worried he wouldn't be able to keep.

"But... I just want you to text me anyways. Even if you don't hear anything." He sniffed, "I wanna see you dance sometime and we gotta get together to study for math and—and I just wanna hang out too, lots." Shiloh nodded along with his words, smiling somberly at the Kleenex now, "Make up for lost time." And let you be human.

shibrogane

 

[shibrogane]

Melany sat with him, still and quiet, her forearms resting on her knees. "My hero," she said. She smiled, and leaned over to bump shoulders with him. The corner of her eyes crinkled up, the sparkles in her eyeshadow catching the light as time started to speed up again. Other people sprung back into motion, and she climbed to her feet, offered a hand down.

"No worries on that. I'm a good texter."

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

Shiloh made a soft huff at the comment and the shoulder bump, but he didn't shy away from the touch. He accepted it quietly, thoughtfully, seemed to be mulling over the gesture before finally deciding it was just okay. Melany wasn't going to hurt him, not like this, not how she was, not how she should be. People started to move around them like clockwork. It was like nothing had happened at all.

Despite everything happening at once, of course.

"Don't call me that..." He said finally, voice still weak from the outburst earlier. He wasn't crying anymore, but the rims of his eyes were red and his cheeks were flushed. A part of him sounded... amused? Yet not. Everything was a weird muddy feeling of self doubt and distrust and hope, god he wanted to hope. What a dangerous goddamn thing.

He took the hand tentatively, carefully, barely there until his palm slipped into hers and he helped himself up. He didn't let go; not immediately.

"Sorry for hurting you." He wasn't sure what else to say as he looked down at her, tiny and strong and yet more vulnerable than he'd ever expect to see someone with her face wear. "Before, I mean. And—" He sniffed, wiped at his face for a final time with the tissue, "Thanks for staying. Really."

The smile he wore was genuine, laden with gratitude. Even with the people around them, it felt like everything was slow motion, and besides that; Shiloh Beaumont was never one to really care.

shibrogane

 

[shibrogane]

"You didn't mean it," said Melany comfortably. "And I've had worse. Wanna see my feet sometime? 'Cause you will stop feeling bad so fast." She looked around at them, at the quiet street. "Hey, can I hug you? Is that okay? We should probably get home, but you know, it feels like a hug moment."

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

He snorted, "Yeah alright, you got me there." Shiloh had been through worse too, except not really. Court was kind of the worse thing he'd ever been through by far. The people around them had meandered off on their own little ways like nothing mattered, and Shiloh was fine with that.

"Is that okay?" He was redirecting the question like it might not be, a hint of worry evident on the way his smile faltered. He shook his head, cleared his mind of it, "No, it's okay. It's okay if you're okay with it."

Was it obvious that Shiloh didn't do the hug thing very often?

He admitted to this a moment later, "Hugs aren't really my thing," except, he sort of craved comfort contact a lot these days, "I dunno how to handle them." Or how to not talk in circles when he was nervous. Despite that, he opened his arms, somewhat goofy (if not bashful) smile crossing his face again.

shibrogane

 

[shibrogane]

"It's okay," said Melany. She flopped into his arms, her own about his shoulders like a comfy scarf. "You're pretty good at it. Don't be shy 'bout asking for these, by the way, I'm like, so good at them."

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

It was fine. It was more than fine actually; it was pretty goddamn comforting and he sunk into the hug like a lifeline. It was warm and about a million other things that a hug with Melany probably shouldn't be, although he was already splitting distinctions in his head. This was Melany, she was the Spinel Lady, she was Madam.

Melany. Melany was his friend.

Is his friend.

"It's kinda in my name," He joked. Haha, Shiloh. "I can't not be. You're askin' too much." Melany was also like, the perfect height for hugs because she was so short. His cheek rested comfortably against the side of her head. "You are pretty good at these though..." His voice got a little more serious, a little more sleepy. Panic attacks were exhausting.

"You want me to see you home?" He didn't actually know where she lived, but it was the thought that counted. He also didn't let go of the hug immediately either, much like the hand. Dumb clingy Beaumont.

shibrogane

 

[shibrogane]

Melany laughed. "I'm changing your contact name to that. Shy-loh." She let go once he did, and smiled at him, bright and calm and carefree. "I'm okay. I didn't have an anxiety attack just now, you know? And besides--" she rummaged in her coat pockets, and pulled out a keyring "--I have a car. C'mon, Shiloh, I will deliver you safely into Jamie's waiting, manly arms."

Melancholies

is a wrap here probly