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[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...

...Mm.

[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.]

Edited 2023-04-28 19:45 (UTC)

[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.]

...Something like that.

[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.

[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.]

Did you?

[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.]

I thought that maybe you had wanted to stay.

[He wasn't sure what to expect, but her suddenly digging into the cupboards and pulling out... Peanut...butter...?

...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.]

[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.

...Ah.

[A small awkward clearing of the throat. He really didn't think she meant anything like... A continuation of that night, but hearing this still somehow tickles him in a way he can't explain or understand. So he just averts his gaze as he tries to find his own words.]

I did... Wonder if I should have stayed to make sure you were all right... But it felt like you wanted me to leave.

I guess I misunderstood.

[Is that a laugh he gets out of her? It's one that's neither pained nor forced. Still a little awkward, but at least it's more sincere than the last few she's given him.]

You did. I think I went to sleep feeling a little upset that night.

[A little is an understatement. Although she did pass out hard when she finally did, it had taken her a while to really fall asleep. Her mind kept going through the events of the night over and over, all the way up until she watched him leave, and it was the last part of it that had really stung. More than anything else that they had said or done.]

Though, I suppose I misunderstood as well. I went to sleep under the impression that you wanted to leave. Wanted nothing to do with me.

No.

[—That came out quicker than he realized so it takes him a moment before he continues.]

...It's true I did want to leave, but only under the assumption that you were uncomfortable around me. And I was also feeling a bit confused as well, so I needed some time.

But I never thought that I didn't want you.

[...

WAIT.]

—Want anything to do with you, I mean.

[Primals help him he didn't mean to misspeak like that.]

Huh—!?

[Ilsa almost drops the spoon out of her hands, much to Valo's dismay, before he corrects himself, and even then... why does she feel that twinge of disappointment in her chest? It's not like she wants anything—at least, she doesn't think so, but she does wonder how much of it really was the drinks, and how much of it was them actually wanting something?

She shakes the feeling off. No sense in letting her mind spiral again now. She's just glad that they at least managed to clear that up without any trouble.

And, trying to lighten the mood a little, she does let herself grin.]

Oh? So you don't want me then?

[She might regret this in a few seconds...]

[And just going to stiffen before he KEEPS HIS HEAD TURNED AWAY.]

Ilsa, please.

[...There's a slight flush, though, a flash of heat that he tries to wipe away with his hand as he runs it over his face.

But the question won't leave him. He's neither denying nor confirming, because... He still doesn't know. Still doesn't know what to make of what happened that night. His thoughts, feelings. Even now he's not sure if his views are being colored. Ilsa has always been an objectively pretty, attractive woman. An idiot would be blind to that much. The thing is, he just never thought or felt anything beyond that.

Now, however... Now that he's been made of aware of everything, seen more than he should have...

....]

You?

[In the end, he ends up turning the question back on her...though he's not really hoping or seeking a real answer. It's more to to see if she's also having the same issues.]

[Okay. She does manage to get a pretty good reaction out of him, and she even chuckles quietly to herself about it. It's so rare that she manages to get Eustace a little riled up like that, even if she was... somewhat joking around... and it's all fun and games until...

"You?"

He turns it around on her so effortlessly that she doesn't see it coming at all. Now it's Ilsa's turn to stiffen, the flush in her cheeks only darkening as she tears her eyes away from Eustace to look at Valo, who is now blinking at the two of them, confused, as he licks away the peanut butter on his face.

Ilsa doesn't have an answer for him. Not even a response of any kind right away. She spent so long thinking about that exact question only to come up short, and with more questions for herself than answers.

Though, maybe...

...

Maybe it's time to work through them with the only other person in this or any world that can help find those answers, and perhaps knows what she's feeling.]

I can't say I know how much to blame the drinks versus what I was thinking myself.

[There's a soft exhale as he's finally recomposed himself and he leans against the door frame.]

Same here.

[...And he's still uncomfortable about it, for many reasons.]

It's obvious we can't take all of what happened to seriously since we don't know what was genuine and what was under the influence. We could stay here spinning our thoughts, but I think the more practical way is to figure out...

[He looks at her. Really looks at her. Looks at her with the same eyes he always had...and note the changes now that it's been colored by the other night.]

...Where we go from here.

[Another beat before he looks away slightly.]

We can either ignore what happened and try to act like we did before. We could accept it and just carry on with just some...better understanding of each other.

[Physical. Understanding. Apparently.

And then another beat before continues a little quieter.]

...Or we see if anything really did change between us.

[Attraction.

It's at least more clear that both don't want to sever their original relationship, and really even after all this he could deal with either of the first two options. It might take some time, but as long as they can still interact with each other, that's fine enough. They're adults, these things happen, it's not something they need to begrudge or hang up over now that they've talked things out a bit.

But the new issue that seems to be lingering between them is... Do either of them see each other as more. Do they want something to develop between them? And if they do, is it better to quit before they're in too deep and get hurt, or just risk it and go with it?

Thus it's a question of should they end it here or...peek through that door.

A door that, for some reason, he's not completely ignoring right now when normally he would.]

[With the peanut butter finished, Ilsa gives Valo a soft scratch on the head and pushes herself up to her feet, all while listening to Eustace very, very carefully. She may not be looking at him, but her ears are telling, still turned in his direction even as she walks away to the kitchen. She just finds it easier to busy herself with something, finding it too awkward to simply stand there and watch him as he tells her all these things that have been on her mind for just as long, confusing her and making her doubt herself...

...?

But she feels his eyes on her, fixing her with an intense stare that has her lifting her gaze to look at him and meet his. She immediately regrets it and drops them back to the counter where she's set down the spoon for now.

This is certainly not a conversation she ever imagined would happen. Ilsa has gone over it all in her head so many times—her ideal relationship, the perfect wedding, how she wanted it to start and end... She had it all planned out, and then Eustace swooped in and shook it all up. To no fault of his own.

And honestly...? She's not completely turned off by the idea of it. Not when she thinks back to how much fun she did have with him on the dance floor and at the bar... and then everything that happened after.

It's just that there are so, so many complicated feelings, all of them influenced by the drinks that they had... Without them, she thinks she might be surer of what she wanted. She always is, and this is the first time she's taken this long to even begin to figure it out.

Her train of thought is why she takes a while to answer. Not because she doesn't want to work through whatever this now is, if it's anything at all—how presumptuous of her—but because she is almost mad at herself for not having a solution right away.

Why is it that the one thing that she wanted in her life is also the thing that's weighing her down so much?

Ilsa runs her fingers through her hair again.]

I can neither ignore what happened nor accept it and carry on.

[It's the last part of what he said that's grabbed her.]

I think something did change. I knew that it did when I remembered that, even when I didn't know who you were, I was... drawn to you anyway. [She very deliberately avoids "attracted".] It wasn't like that with anyone else and I think there was a reason for that.

[He doesn't mind how long it takes for Ilsa to answer. It's a heavy topic he knows... And maybe it could have been pushed for later, but they were already "pushing things for later" and who knows how long it would be? He's a patient man, but he's also quick to try and figure things out so it doesn't hang over him. Whether that's good or not, time will tell.

And he gives Ilsa all the time in the world, after their eyes meet. He can see the same thoughts, the same questions and uncertainty in her eyes, and he knows Ilsa will need the same time and deliberation he needs. So he will kneel down to give Valo attention after neglecting him for a bit, scratching him behind the ears and letting the dog lean against him. Even Valo is looking at him with concern, nudging him with his nose. As if feeling some support, he quietly smiles.

But even so, like her his ears are trained on her, and when he feels that shift that she's about to speak he looks up a bit to listen.

...And find once again they are of similar mind. It's enough to make a small laugh escape him.]

...It's funny. I remember how we used to be incompatible when we trained together. But now... It almost feels as if you're the one I feel most compatible with.

[There a soft if wane smile as he looks at her before he stands.]

I feel similarly. While I am prepared to take this however you prefer, I can't deny that something has changed.

...But not for the worst. I don't think I would be standing here if it did. That's as far as I've gotten, though.

[A small pause.]

...What would you want to do?

[A week is already much, much later than she would have liked. Ilsa doesn't like leaving loose ends, and that was certainly the loosest end that she's ever had to deal with, and for so long, too. Better that they get it out now than let it fester for longer, and for things to inevitably get worse and even more awkward whenever they did talk again.

His laugh surprises her a bit, small as it is... It's a lot for Eustace, or so she feels at a time like this, so she blinks at him for the several seconds following it.

And then still when he voices his opinions on the matter.

"Prepared to take it however she prefers"? Why her, though? What does Eustace want that isn't influenced by alcohol or her own decisions, good or bad? Does that mean... that he does want something? That he would be okay with it?

And does her humouring the idea silently in her head mean that it's what she wants, too?

... No, she has no idea and that's the problem.

Finally, Ilsa turns fully to face him, and she's just going to be as honest as she can be right now.]

I don't know.

[She really, really doesn't, and her slightly pained expression says as much.]

You and I really had a good thing going on, didn't we? Before all of this.

[It's her turn to chuckle a little.]

I'd rather not ruin that if we can help it, but... [Her eyes skirt away suddenly, and she reins in the words that she meant to say for something else.] ... I wonder if it might be better to see.

[Although he had been prepared for any and all possibilities, including the potential of further development, he had been more prepared for things ending where they are. Thus his eyes widen a bit at her actual answer, his heart strangely racing for a moment before it quiets.

...

Should he take that as a sign?

However, he understands her uncertainty.]

Then...

[The word hangs in the air as he once again considers his words.]

...How about this. It's clear we're still uncertain about things, but we are in agreement that we do not share any negative feelings towards each other. And if we think about it, we've only known each other through work. We've never really spent any time together outside of it.

So let's just...be around each other and see how we feel in a more...casual relationship first.

[...

This totally sounds like he's suggesting they date but with the dating—]

[Relationship...

That word hangs so heavy in the air over Ilsa's head that she may look doubtful at first with how her brow furrows. She knows that it isn't what he means by "casual relationship", but her mind can't help but wander past that very blurred line that's drawn between something casual and something more serious between them. Ilsa has been searching for one for so long, and she still wants one, but...

Is it really going to be with Eustace?

There's no denying that even as colleagues or friends, there is chemistry. And there is certainly no denying that the night of the masquerade had been electric. There was a reason that Ilsa was so drawn to him, and even if he wasn't objectively handsome, it was his personality that won out in the end.

...

How long she remains lost in thought... She hopes it isn't long, but she tries to snap herself out of it before they get too far.]

Alright.

[And her answer comes all too swiftly. Perhaps a little too swift because she is looking for some clarification...

Though it's a bit more tentative now because she isn't sure exactly what she wants to hear from him.]

What do you mean by 'casual relationship'? We should try to be on the same page if we are going to pursue anything. [... Wait.] Not that I am presuming that we are.

[... Are they? The way she looks at him seems to imply that question.]

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