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[It's been about a week since the masquerade, and Eustace and Ilsa have not spoken to each other except for one message from him checking to see if she was all right. After that... It was understandably awkward for either of them to face each other. He knew it wouldn't do to keep avoiding each other, but at the same time—how the hell was he supposed to face her after how he acted that night? Sure, it was because of the drinks, but...

...

Every time he looked at the orchids she had left for him on the first day they arrived into this world, there was a stab of guilt. They needed to talk, figure out what to do. They were adults, it happens. Yet for some reason it bothered him in a way he couldn't understand, and thus a day would go by and another day and another day. Always restless, he ended up working on the garden, gathering the fruits until there was a sizable amount for him to offer to the dragon. There he made some requests...and then, despite having thought against it, he asked for his dog, Valo.

Seeing the dog helped improve his mood, and he hoped he'd be able to figure out how to approach Ilsa—sooner rather than later.

However, he did not expect that the sooner would be within the next day.

Out on a walk to show Valo the town, he initially avoids the street Ilsa's cottage resides. But on the way back, Valo catches a familiar scent, and with a tug, he leads Eustace down an unfamiliar path...

...

That takes him straight to Ilsa's street. It's not directly in front of her cottage, but it's one over. Instantly he stiffens and hastily looks around. Maybe she's not there?

...

Except she is, right there out in her garden, and all she would have to do is turn around or look up and she'd be able to see him standing there.]

[Even that single message had been awkward to send back. He had checked up on her first, and all she had replied with was a simple, curt, all-too-professional "I am doing fine, thank you for asking. Hope you're well." that she had typed and backspaced on many, many times before finally giving up and hitting send. After that, it was radio silence on both ends, and it was clear to her that she wasn't the only one making a concerted effort to avoid him.

They only lived a street away, but she would take the longer routes just to dodge any possibility of running into him on her way to and from home. Or... she would simply not leave the house or would hide in her backyard.

But no matter what she did to try and busy herself, her thoughts always inevitably would wander back to that night a week ago. If she wasn't thinking about that, then she would be thinking about the even more inevitable meeting they would have again when they decided to both pull up their adult pants and talk about it...

She would rather not, but that is something that people talk about, right? It should be... considering that even after Ilsa figured out who it was, she continued anyway. In fact, it wasn't until after Eustace's identity was unmasked that she threw herself all in and what that meant for her. Never mind the fact that he knew who she was the entire time and went ahead anyway.

...Not that she hated it, or was mad about it, but...

Ilsa could blame the many, many drinks that they had—especially her—but how long would that excuse fly?

Not long, she thinks. Her overthinking has already significantly distilled its legitimacy.

Ugh! Here she goes, thinking about it again, and when that same tingle passes over her lips, she storms out to the front yard to tend to her growing flower garden, trimming the bushes and picking out the peonies and orchids that she has growing out there.

Everything was going fine until she hears the padding of... paws?...on the street, and her ears swivel in its direction first.

...

Before she does make the mistake of looking, curiosity getting the best of her. And as soon as she sees Eustace standing there, she stiffens, and the small shears fall out of her hands and into the grass.

What is he doing here? On her street? And more importantly...]

When did you get a dog?

[...

Ah, shit. Did she say that out loud?]

[He had just started to try and tug Valo away from there before she notices, but if course it would be his luck that she would look up. Though seeing those shears drop...

...

Sensing something off, Valo looks up at Eustace. He doesn't really bark all that much—similar to his owner he's fairly quiet for a dog. But he does whine a little at Eustace, wondering why there is so much tension. The smell he had caught earlier is right there...!]

...Yesterday.

[His own answer is unexpectedly curt, and he belatedly regrets how stiff it sounds.]

...This is Valo, the dog I told you about before.

[When he gave that giant recap on their first day in this world. When they could still act normal around each other. Comfortable.]

Ah.

[There is the tiniest flash of excitement, but it's so brief before she tries to rein it back in, the tension too taut in the space around them that she feels strange even smiling about it. He had talked about his dog, and so fondly too, and Ilsa remembers going home that evening hoping that he would be reunited with him soon... She wants to be happy for him, and she is, but right now, it almost doesn't feel right to be so thrilled?

Considering everything...

She picks up her shears and considers going back to her trimming, giving Eustace the signal that maybe now is still not the time, but...

...

Looking him, hearing his voice and how equally curt he sounds, she decides against it and pushes herself to her feet, moving towards the fence to get a closer look. At least with this, Ilsa can focus more on the dog than on Eustace.]

Hello, Valo. [Her hand stretches out over the fence, offering it to him if he wishes to approach... And Eustace, too, with a brief glance at him.] It's a pleasure to meet you.

[Valo still doesn't know why things are awkward, but the pretty lady doesn't seem so bad? Eustace is also not going to stop Valo, even if he himself is hesitating. But the both of them approach, Eustace stopping a few feet farther as Valo trots right on up to Ilsa.

Sniff sniff, sniff sniff!

Again the dog's ears perk up, his tail wagging a bit as the familiar scent of the flower back at the cottage is stronger, confirming that this is where he had caught it before. So there a happy pant from Valo as he looks up at Ilsa, hoping for some pets.

Seeing this... Eustace can't help but soften a little and loosen up a little. He still can't quite bring himself to look at Ilsa directly, so his gaze shifts towards the garden behind her.

...]

...Looks like it's coming along well... Your garden.

[Eustace initiating a conversation. They really are in dire straits if he's the one to start.]

[And pets he will get, Ilsa setting the shears down carefully atop the fence so that she can reach over with both hands to give him scratches and rubs behind the ears. What a friendly dog... Though, she does wonder if the reason he's so familiar and easy with her now is because he knows her from home? The flowers that she had given him before isn't even a thought that crosses her mind.

Fortunately, Valo serves as an excellent distraction, and she coos at him until Eustace's voice interrupts her.

Straightening, much to Valo's dismay, Ilsa only briefly looks to him before regarding the garden.]

I've been applying techniques I learned from a neighbour about keeping the plants and flowers healthy. [Said in such a professional manner one would think they were talking business rather than trying to make small talk.] I still have a long way to go before it's finished. [A sigh.] But with nothing but time here, I thought I might as well.

[ ...

She's about ready to stop the conversation there, and there's a tone of finality to her voice.

.....

......

But she can't bring herself to do it.]

... How about yours?

[Hearing her tone should be normal... Yet somehow it pricks him, a weird internal flinch that serves to remind him of their awkward distance.

...Really...

It's hardly the first time he's made someone become curt and distant with him. If anything he used to prefer it—not caring what people that or spare anyone's feelings to get what needed to be done. He preferred being on his own so it didn't matter to him what people thought or acted towards him, cold, warm, or otherwise. So he shouldn't feel any different now, but... For the first time, he does. He can't say he's unaffected.

That said, that's all internal. Outwardly he just remains the same, expression difficult to read—though there may have been the faintest flicker, the slightest furrow of his brow at the beginning when she first speaks. But after that, everything is maintained as..."normal" as he listens.

And he really wouldn't have been surprised if that was the end of it, so he's caught a little off guard by her return question, his answer notably delayed by a second.]

....Same. Cleared it up, harvested some of the fruit, and turned it into the dragon for some improvements to the cottage.

[Similar to her, his response is more like a report than a casual return in conversation.]

[When he returns the same manner back, she shouldn't be surprised, nor should she feel hurt. Ilsa was the one who started on it, so it only makes sense that he would do the same. Why wouldn't he? In a lot of ways, the two of them aren't so different... The only difference is that she does care about what people think of her—she never wants her recruits to see her as soft, but with Eustace...

...

Ilsa saw that furrow of his brow, subtle as it was, and she hates that maybe he did see her as a little cold. Still, she tries to maintain the same unaffected outward front.]

Mm. Well, that's good to hear.

[Her ears droop slightly because that feels like such a nothing sort of response...

...

So, she quickly scrambles for something else.]

I have some extra bananas... if you'd like them.

[Still a bit stiff, but it's a start?]

...Sure.

[And that's it, that's all he can say at first.

Why does he feel so terrible He really isn't used to such an uncomfortable feeling. This... Distance between him and someone he actually trusts and cares about. Even before all this mess Ilsa had a place with the rest of the Society group, and she, whether he knew it or not, had been placed a little higher. It was only natural—they had trained together, been through a lot of the same things, and she had been one of the very few he could trust and rely on early on. They had their differences, but they had similar mindsets.

And because they were both high ranking, they would often work or confer with each other about things, the moon operation being the most recent, at least for him, but nothing really changed too much in the time gap between them.

...Maybe it's because things had been so natural he really never noticed anything until that status quo was so horribly disrupted. This sense of... Feeling that fracture in a bond and that fear of losing it. Is that what it is?

All he knows is he dislikes it and he hates being restless like this. Especially when a path is obvious in front of them. They're just both... Hesitant to take that first step.

So there's a few beats after his initial answer, and regardless if Ilsa was speaking or moving he suddenly raises his voice.]

Ilsa.

Mm?

[She had already been on her way to lead Eustace and the pup inside, giving Valo one more head pat before Ilsa picked up her garden shears and turned sharp on her heel, eager to... do what, exactly? She isn't sure... it's not like the bananas were going to do anything for her. It isn't like they were going to solve all of the problems she feels rising in the tense air between them.

So, she stops when she hears her name and, more importantly, the tone with which he calls to her.

Ilsa knows what that means. Whatever the situation, that tone from Eustace means business and she has already figured out what it is he wants to talk about. As much as she would rather not, as much as she would prefer to never think about it again, that isn't going to happen, no matter how many times she wishes for it to be so.

With stiff shoulders that rise and then fall, she sighs.]

Inside.

[If they're going to talk about what happened, she'd rather not do it in her front yard. If he'd like to continue the conversation, he'll have to follow her because she's already making her way to her front door.]

[There's no response as he steps forward and through the gate, as if he knew this is what would happen. And again Valo can only look between the two of them with a quiet whine as he walks alongside Eustace. There's only a brief hesitation once he reaches the door before he steps inside.

No more wavering.

No more avoiding.

However this ends... They need to deal with this.]

[She's going to assume he knows to close the door behind him and Valo because she keeps moving into the kitchen, expecting them to follow.

While the house is still fairly limited in furniture, Ilsa has taken it upon herself to decorate it with flowers in the meantime. She's grown used to it, and she doesn't mind the simple cleanliness of it all. Eustace might spot the pot of flowers he had given her thriving and blossoming bigger in front of the window, perched right in the center for the town outside to see.

And whenever he follows into the kitchen, she's already started distracting herself with the bananas. But before he can say anything else, she asks in a firm voice.]

How many?

[Yes, she's still stalling... only because she doesn't know what she wants to say to him yet, but there's a pensive furrow to her brow as she mulls it over.]

[He will indeed close the door behind him and it's only then that he hooks Valo's leash so that he can roam a little more freely. Of course Valo is a good boy and won't go anywhere he shouldn't, instead deciding to stick by Eustace since there's still the weird tension in the air. Reaching down to scratch his ears as if to give the dog some reassurance, Eustace looks around her home.

It's the first time he's ever been in someone else's home, now that he thinks about it. He's had to enter other rooms on the Grandcypher or stop by someone's apartment, but never has he really stepped into one like this. And her home is quaint, reflecting her personality fairly well. It's a strange feeling...made only stranger given the circumstances. And because of that, he doesn't actually venture that far in, only going so far as to be able to speak with her and keeping near the entrance of the kitchen.

And along the way, his eyes do spot the potted plant of his flowers, distracting him a moment that his answer is a little delayed.]

Ah... Doesn't matter.

[............It's such a normal answer for him but somehow it feels... Insincere due to the current atmosphere.]

[Ilsa pauses in gathering the bananas on the counter, clicks her tongue, and proceeds to carefully slip several bundles of them into a bag. And then some more, and then some more...

She's not sure if she should be the one to initiate the rest of the conversation, so she's silent for a while longer while she ties it up and sets it aside, and sweeps down the counter with a cloth before she finally turns to look at him.

And even then, she can barely meet his gaze, her eyes staring past him or at Valo instead.]

I assume you didn't intend to come here to talk about what happened.

[Given how stunned he looked when he saw her out in her garden, this was all just a chance meeting, wasn't it?]

[He only remains silent until she speaks again and...

...There's a slight shift of discomfort, but they're both adults and he needs to act like one.]

...No, I did not.

[Which is to admit the truth, even if it also reveals the truth that he had also been avoiding her. Though given she was the same, then there's no real fault.

...Still.]

But it's about time we did.

[She figured as much and had done the same, so no surprises on her end, either.

Ilsa is silent for a moment, watching as Valo looks between the two of them with eyes wide with confusion, before she huffs out her umpteenth sigh since Eustace appeared on her street.]

I know. [She can at least admit that much, but whether she was ready to do it or not, that's a different matter. Folding her arms, she leans against the counter.] I owe you an apology.

[First and foremost, and though it is difficult for her to admit...]

It was me who initiated everything.

[He knew she would apologize first, so there's something of a sigh as he briefly closes his eyes.]

Even so, I was fully aware of the situation and should have pushed harder to stop it from escalating. So I also I owe you an apology.

[He is not going to let her take all the blame, just like she wouldn't let him do the same. It takes two people, and if anything he feels a bit more responsible given that he had been more sober and aware of her identity at first. That said he also knows that she will still feel responsible so he won't try and push it. Just take responsibility for his own actions.]

Edited 2023-04-27 15:01 (UTC)

[They could go around in circles forever, apologizing to each other and trying to shoulder the blame, but Ilsa isn't about that. They can both take responsibility here and she won't fight him on it, even if she does think that a lot of it had been her own fault from the get-go. After she had sobered up, she realized how demanding she had been, how forceful, and even if Eustace had tried to stop it before it got anywhere, she does pause to wonder...

... Would she have listened?

She doesn't say as much, however, because that would only put them back into that self-blame loop she doesn't want to fall into, so time to look at the now and the future, rather than what can no longer be changed.

Now that the apologies are out of the way...

Her gaze finally lands on his, and a question burns on the tip of her tongue. One that she's been working through in her head to find an answer, but of course... without him, she couldn't.]

How long did you know that it was me?

[In many ways he's glad they don't argue who was more responsible, so he won't say anything more on it. And while he knew she would ask the question, it still makes him have to think back to what happened.]

It was fairly early... Around the time you started pushing for the dance, and were...

...

[Things were a little fuzzy thanks to what happened after, but he does remember how she was touching and feeling him up. Back then it had been so incredibly awkward and weird, but then once they were basically in heat, her touch was all he wanted.

So just an awkward clearing of his throat so they can just KEEP MOVING AND NOT DWELL IN CERTAIN THINGS.]

It was your earrings.

[And her scent, but mostly the flowers.]

My earrings...?

[Shocked a little by the revelation, her hands instinctively reach up to squeeze at her earrings. What an odd thing to pick up on, especially given that she didn't recognize him at all because of the mask enchantment. How drunk had she been by the time they ran into each other...!?

There's no hiding the way a deeper colour settles deeper into her cheekbones at the thought. He'd brought up her earrings before, but she never realized that it was such a notable feature... or one that he saw as such.]

...

And so you just let me do what I wanted. [While her tone does remain sharp, it isn't entirely directed at him. It's not like he was responsible for her, so there's no blame there. But now for her next burning question:] Why didn't you say anything when you figured it out?

[Why did he just keep dancing with her and put up with what she would call very aggressive and uncharacteristic flirting?]

[He notices her flush, but he tries not to think too much of it. Back then it really didn't seem to mean much that he noticed her earrings. Surely it's a notable feature? But now he's second guessing everything he's ever thought about her, wondering if there wasn't something else that he just never realized. Of course, would be even know or understand now?

At her question... He's silent for a moment as he also questioned why he let it continue.]

I did try to stop you and tell you... But then I thought that... [A small hesitation.]

...That maybe it wouldn't be so bad to at least let you have a good time.

[It was a genuine act that started all right, but then after that... It all just fell apart. He sighs as he runs his hand over his face and through his hair as he glances to the side.]

Maybe I was also too drunk to realize anything...

[That gets a huff out of her. Something that's a cross between a sigh, a scoff, and a laugh, and only because she feels conflicted. She feels like she should be more upset about this—that she should be telling him that he should have stopped them when she started coming on too strong, but she can't. She shouldn't be slightly amused by what he wanted because she wanted it, too...

Folding her arms defensively, she states with a curt tone, though she looks him in the eyes as she says it to make sure that he knows she is being serious. That she means it...]

For the record, I did enjoy myself. Moreso with you than with any other mystery man I met that night. I eventually grew tired of the others, but...

[Ah, she's already said too much, and she almost wants to backpedal. Instead, she closes her eyes and steels herself as if this was some giant confession she was making and not an obvious statement.]

Not with you.

[For some reason, her words bring him some relief, as if helped soothe some unknown tension be had been harboring. Perhaps... Perhaps he had been worried about how she felt being with him he certainly had worried over how things would change between them.

So perhaps because of that, he was going to be honest, too.]

...It's the same.

[His voice is quiet, but firm as it also reflects the seriousness of it. The same seriousness that is reflected in his eyes as he looks at her directly.]

Anyone else, I would have left without looking back, and I almost did before I realized everything.

[And now... A heavier pause before he continues.]

I only allowed it...because it was you.

[Not just the dance. Not just the drinking. But what happened as well.

It took him quite a long time for him to really come to terms with it, but no matter how he looked at it, Ilsa was the main constant and that he would feel much differently if this happened with someone else. Now, what that means towards any deeper meaning, he doesn't know yet still.

It could just be the familiarity and trust he has with her. Friendly hookups are a thing and this could very well be just that.

The problem is, neither of them are that shallow. At least he certainly isn't.]

[Now, it's a real laugh. Not a mocking one, not a self-deprecating one, but a genuinely amused, albeit quiet, laugh. She also hoped that it would ease some of that tension that still hangs there between them, but for her, it doesn't... because thinking about it again brings her thoughts elsewhere...

The meaning behind that, if there is any.

Because for Ilsa, as much as she dotes on the idea of finding some grand romance arc for herself someday, she isn't a shallow woman, either. She wants it to be with someone that she truly cares about, someone that she can relate to, someone that sees her for who she really is beneath the title. A man that she understands as much as he does her.

The most frightening part of that is... Eustace is only man she's ever met who checks those boxes, and not even in the romantic sense. They have gone through too much together, and even more than what she knows given everything he's told her, so it makes sense. They have always had a deep understanding and respect for one another, and Ilsa still respects him too much to think that this would simply be a shallow, one-time pursuit to let out some pent-up frustration.

Nor does she think that he would do such a thing.

As for what that means...

Ilsa runs a hand through her hair.]

I'm not sure what to make of this. It's one hell of a frustrating puzzle, huh...

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