[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.
[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...]
[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.]
[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.]
[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.]
[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.]
[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.]
[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...
[A low, quiet hum as he averts his gaze, his thoughts still racing.
He always keeps his thoughts to himself, only sharing when it's needed and even then sometimes not at all. That kind of secretive, closed off nature had almost been his and the world's downfall. So perhaps... He should just say what's on his mind. Maybe it will help her, and hopefully the both of them, too.]
...Ilsa. [His voice starts slow and quiet as he continues to weigh his thoughts and words.] I don't want any misunderstandings between us. You are someone I respect and trust, someone I hold in high regard, and value our relationship. I do not want that to be broken because of something that wasn't in our full control.
[He looks at her now, eyes clear as he continues.]
It's clear the drinks were enchanted, affecting our judgment and...thoughts. And it's perhaps fortunate things ended the way it did.
[As in, interrupted before they could go any further.]
I... [A small hesitation.] I don't want you hurt.
[Something that had been on his mind is that while he can move on whether they had actually hooked up or not, he's not sure how Ilsa would feel. She's the one who is seeking a relationship, a true romance to find love. Perhaps he's worrying too much—they're both older adults so perhaps it's not as important anymore. But he's still considering her feelings—and he's found he would dislike it greatly if he was the cause of some regret.
If he was part of something that she did not want, something that was against her will... It really wouldn't sit well with him.]
[His words surprise her, and she stares across the room at him, stunned and silent, her hand paused halfway through another run of her hair while she listens. These are all things that she knew and things that she would agree with if she could find the right words to say right now, but it still surprises her anyway. She's hardly known Eustace to be very forthcoming with his thoughts or feelings, and even on the days when she could get a decent read on him, it was never one that could reach so deep to hear this.
It's the last part, however, that makes something lurch in her chest.]
Hurt?
[It's so tight that her controlled, steady voice almost cracks as she looks at him.]
Have you been afraid that you've hurt me since that night?
[Forget the drinks, forget whatever bad judgements they made... That's the last thing that she wants him to think.]
[It does feel...strange telling her all this. He can see it clear in her eyes and body language that she's unused to it as well. It's only thanks to his recent developments that he's able to do this, even if it's still difficult.]
[Ilsa remains stiff, almost unmoving at his admission, and she's once again at a complete loss for words. Not because she has no idea what to say... no, she has plenty she wants to say, but figuring out how to put it out into the world in a way that makes any sense of the thousand things she's feeling and has been is the difficult part. It's not often that she winds up tongue-tied or without a rebuttal, but it keeps happening in Eustace's presence.
She waits a little longer, in case there's more that he wants to say, but when nothing comes...
...
Ilsa leans back against the counter.]
If you've thought I regretted anything, then you've been wrong.
[That acknowledgement comes easily, at least. It's the next part that doesn't, and she fixes him with a steady, searching gaze.]
[Here he hesitates. Hearing that she does not regret it both relieves him and spurs new questions to form.
What does she mean?
What part does she not regret?
It's only a beat later that he realizes—or at least hopes—that the meaning is the same for him, so when his expression clears, his eyes are steady and firm.]
No.
[If he did regret anything, it's how it happened.
But... Everything else? He can't think negatively of it. Worried, sure, but no sense of repulsion, no displeasure. Of course, that just opens a whole different can of worms, but at least on the basic level, there's no regrets.]
I only would have if you took things more negatively.
[Eustace's answer comes as a relief to her, too. Even if he did harbour any regrets of ill feelings towards her, she would have respected that. If not being around her would make all this easier for him to process, than she would keep away for as long as he needed... as much as it's pained her to do so since then. It isn't like Ilsa wanted to avoid him—she just didn't know what she would say or do when she no longer did.
So, there's a visible relaxing in her shoulders when he assures her that he didn't.
Which brings about another thought. Something that's been bothering her since the night of the masquerade. She may have been drunk, and maybe she doesn't fully remember all of the details of what happened before she fell asleep on the couch, but there is something that she can recall very clearly in her memories, as if it had only just happened yesterday.
And when the question spills out of her, she only belatedly realizes that she sounds like she's doubting him... That isn't her intent, but she is seeking a real, sincere answer from him about what happened.]
... Why did you leave the way you did, then? After you dropped me off.
[Somehow, seeing her relieved only helps him to relax further... Until she asks her question, which sparks a look of confusion.]
Leave... Ah.
[A small hum as he furrows his brows.]
...I thought you were uncomfortable around me and didn't want me around.
[And realizing how that sounds—]
Given what happened and...your condition, I thought you would have preferred it.
[...But now that he realizes that she asked the question, he wonders... Was that not the case? And the slight cant of his head and questioning look in his eyes reflect that.]
[Ilsa stares at him for what feels like much longer than just a few short seconds, disbelief crossing her features because how did they end up with such a stupid misunderstanding between them? Always so clear-headed, aware of the other, and all this confusion, all this inner turmoil has been happening because of, what...? A miscommunication?
Those seconds pass, and Ilsa pauses the conversation to dig into the cupboards for something. From them, she takes out a small jar of peanut butter, a spoon from the drawer, and takes a small scoop of it. Valo, who has been so patiently sitting and waiting for someone to notice him immediately lights up, his tail thumping against the floor as she approaches.]
May I?
[With his permission, of course.
But regardless of whether he allows it, she'll continue, distracting herself with the dog either way.]
I was... worried about you after you left. Your head wasn't exactly on straight that night, either.
[Except Ilsa knows he's likely seeking more than that, and she has more to give. She just needs another moment to figure out how to word it—not something she does often when she simply says what's on her mind.]
[She either doesn't pick up on his confusion, or she chooses not to bring attention to it. Ilsa keeps her attention mostly on Valo, though her ears are turned in Eustace's direction, listening to him intently, and there's a very subtle shift in her expression when he repeats her words...
She didn't want to have to explain, but... it makes sense. Given the circumstances surrounding the whole thing, given what happened before and how she felt after, she can't blame him for feeling a little confused, either.]
Mm.
[She nods, and a warm smile passes over her expression, ghosting it before it vanishes, when Valo tries to grab the spoon before going back to licking away the peanut butter as if this were his first meal ever.
But a flush begins to creep up into her cheeks when she recalls the bits that she remembers so clearly.]
You took good care of me while I was... [Clearing her throat.] Down for the count. ... I didn't want us to spend the night alone and I thought that we would take care of each other.
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[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.]
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No more wavering.
No more avoiding.
However this ends... They need to deal with this.]
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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.]
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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.]
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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?]
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...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.
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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.
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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.]
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... 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?
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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.]
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[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?]
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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...
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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.
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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.]
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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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[A low, quiet hum as he averts his gaze, his thoughts still racing.
He always keeps his thoughts to himself, only sharing when it's needed and even then sometimes not at all. That kind of secretive, closed off nature had almost been his and the world's downfall. So perhaps... He should just say what's on his mind. Maybe it will help her, and hopefully the both of them, too.]
...Ilsa. [His voice starts slow and quiet as he continues to weigh his thoughts and words.] I don't want any misunderstandings between us. You are someone I respect and trust, someone I hold in high regard, and value our relationship. I do not want that to be broken because of something that wasn't in our full control.
[He looks at her now, eyes clear as he continues.]
It's clear the drinks were enchanted, affecting our judgment and...thoughts. And it's perhaps fortunate things ended the way it did.
[As in, interrupted before they could go any further.]
I... [A small hesitation.] I don't want you hurt.
[Something that had been on his mind is that while he can move on whether they had actually hooked up or not, he's not sure how Ilsa would feel. She's the one who is seeking a relationship, a true romance to find love. Perhaps he's worrying too much—they're both older adults so perhaps it's not as important anymore. But he's still considering her feelings—and he's found he would dislike it greatly if he was the cause of some regret.
If he was part of something that she did not want, something that was against her will... It really wouldn't sit well with him.]
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It's the last part, however, that makes something lurch in her chest.]
Hurt?
[It's so tight that her controlled, steady voice almost cracks as she looks at him.]
Have you been afraid that you've hurt me since that night?
[Forget the drinks, forget whatever bad judgements they made... That's the last thing that she wants him to think.]
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[It does feel...strange telling her all this. He can see it clear in her eyes and body language that she's unused to it as well. It's only thanks to his recent developments that he's able to do this, even if it's still difficult.]
Regret... Or something.
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She waits a little longer, in case there's more that he wants to say, but when nothing comes...
...
Ilsa leans back against the counter.]
If you've thought I regretted anything, then you've been wrong.
[That acknowledgement comes easily, at least. It's the next part that doesn't, and she fixes him with a steady, searching gaze.]
Did you?
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What does she mean?
What part does she not regret?
It's only a beat later that he realizes—or at least hopes—that the meaning is the same for him, so when his expression clears, his eyes are steady and firm.]
No.
[If he did regret anything, it's how it happened.
But... Everything else? He can't think negatively of it. Worried, sure, but no sense of repulsion, no displeasure. Of course, that just opens a whole different can of worms, but at least on the basic level, there's no regrets.]
I only would have if you took things more negatively.
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So, there's a visible relaxing in her shoulders when he assures her that he didn't.
Which brings about another thought. Something that's been bothering her since the night of the masquerade. She may have been drunk, and maybe she doesn't fully remember all of the details of what happened before she fell asleep on the couch, but there is something that she can recall very clearly in her memories, as if it had only just happened yesterday.
And when the question spills out of her, she only belatedly realizes that she sounds like she's doubting him... That isn't her intent, but she is seeking a real, sincere answer from him about what happened.]
... Why did you leave the way you did, then? After you dropped me off.
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Leave... Ah.
[A small hum as he furrows his brows.]
...I thought you were uncomfortable around me and didn't want me around.
[And realizing how that sounds—]
Given what happened and...your condition, I thought you would have preferred it.
[...But now that he realizes that she asked the question, he wonders... Was that not the case? And the slight cant of his head and questioning look in his eyes reflect that.]
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Those seconds pass, and Ilsa pauses the conversation to dig into the cupboards for something. From them, she takes out a small jar of peanut butter, a spoon from the drawer, and takes a small scoop of it. Valo, who has been so patiently sitting and waiting for someone to notice him immediately lights up, his tail thumping against the floor as she approaches.]
May I?
[With his permission, of course.
But regardless of whether he allows it, she'll continue, distracting herself with the dog either way.]
I was... worried about you after you left. Your head wasn't exactly on straight that night, either.
[Except Ilsa knows he's likely seeking more than that, and she has more to give. She just needs another moment to figure out how to word it—not something she does often when she simply says what's on her mind.]
I thought that maybe you had wanted to stay.
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...Ah.
A quick glance at Valo—]
Sure.
[—and the dog is eagerly awaiting the tasty treat. But also waiting politely and patiently... Even if his tail and the bright eyes give it all away.
And he's watching the two of them while listening... But it's not until she voices the last part that he looks up sharply.]
Wanted to stay?
[...
....
Ilsa, please clarify because given the context that could mean a lot of different things.]
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She didn't want to have to explain, but... it makes sense. Given the circumstances surrounding the whole thing, given what happened before and how she felt after, she can't blame him for feeling a little confused, either.]
Mm.
[She nods, and a warm smile passes over her expression, ghosting it before it vanishes, when Valo tries to grab the spoon before going back to licking away the peanut butter as if this were his first meal ever.
But a flush begins to creep up into her cheeks when she recalls the bits that she remembers so clearly.]
You took good care of me while I was... [Clearing her throat.] Down for the count. ... I didn't want us to spend the night alone and I thought that we would take care of each other.
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TIMESKIP TO CRAZY
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TIMESKIP POST NHIE (forgot to label lmao)
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1/6
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done destroying this man's dignity forever
ARE YOU SURE...
NAH
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