milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Sometimes disappearing into one's room for a few days to work on an idea is a good thing to do. And that's what April's been doing the past few days. That and teaching a certain troublesome kitten to use the litterbox.

However, she is downstairs now, sans notebook and kitten, and is sitting by the observation windows with a mug of hot chocolate, sipping on it slowly while she watches the universe end.

She is more than open to conversation.

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April thinks about that silently for a moment. She doesn't know him too well and she doesn't know what he's thinking. She can hardly even guess, really, not knowing him. But...

"What we dream... if it's a recurring dream, especially, it's... supposedly it's a dream about something that you need to work out. Something that's..." she sighs. "I had a lot of dreams about people... people leaving me. After I got here, I mean. Still do, sometimes." She pauses. "I think it's... either 'cause I'm scared people are gonna realize that I'm not worth hanging around, or because I feel guilty for leaving."

"The dream ends," he says softly, "in darkness. I flee from all things and am alone. And that is all. Loneliness."

He cannot look at her. He dislikes confessing any pain that is so deep to him.

April is an impulsive person. That's why she bussed out of Hartford at 3 am on her 18th birthday, that's why she killed herself, that's why she hung mistletoe around the bar and went around kissing people.

So, if you know April at all (which Faramir doesn't as much), it should be no surprise that she does something impulsive now.

She hugs Faramir. A tight, sisterly hug that Mark and Collins and Angel - hell, even Benny - have received many times. She can't think of anything to say, so that's... the best she can do.

At least she does it well.

He freezes. It's so unexpected a thing, and he is so unused to physical affection. He's not sure whether he should sit still and thank her, or return the gesture... but eventually, slowly, automatically, he finds his arms around her, and his head against her shoulder.

And it's just a little harder to breathe.

"I'm so sorry," she whispers, her voice choked with emotion. She knows that feeling, of being utterly alone with your demons, and as much as she hates it, she hates that other people feel it.

She's just sweet like that.

He takes a deep breath and slowly, painfully, wrenches himself away from her.

"Thank you," he says, his own voice slightly unsteady.

April flushes a little. "I didn't really do anything." Didn't work a miracle.

Faramir isn't sure what miracles are anymore.

"You... are a good friend. I am happy that Boromir has found you."

April smiles a little. "I'm pretty happy he found me, too."

She wants to say more, to say something better that'll... make him crack. Let it go, let himself react the way he wants to. But she doesn't know how to do that. She's too used to being the one cracking.

Faramir sits quiet and still and peers hauntedly at the window.

His hands in his lap twist the hem of his tunic with silent desperation: the only crack in his otherwise calm mask.

She sees it. She can tell that... whatever it is, it's eating him up. Ripping him apart and tearing him down and that's not good. But she can't do anything.

Except she's going to fucking well try. After everything that people have done for her, she is going to try. And if it doesn't work, she might try again.

She reaches out and grabs one of his hands.

"Faramir... it's alright to... not be all cool calm and collected sometimes, y'know?" She's not sure if this'll work or if she sounds stupid, but... well. She's trying.

The Prince squeezes his eyes tightly shut.

"I should go."

He doesn't move.

She notices.

"Why?"

He does not, as a habit, lie.

"Because it's exactly the opposite of what I think I want to do."

And it has nothing to do with attraction. Nothing to do with anything like that. She's Boromir's, and somewhere out in space and time, he has an Eowyn who he is loyal to not because he is honor-bound to be, but because no other woman in this or any other universe could ever satisfy his heart the way she did in their short time together.

It's all to do with the fact that she's the one who took his hand. He feels like a child awakening from bad dreams...

...but it's been 33 years since the last time he was a child awakening from dark dreams and had anyone to go to but his brother.

And that's 33 years too many. In the short time they've known each other, April has grown very fond of Faramir. Really, he's going to very quickly be one of the brothers she's picked up over the years - Collins originally and Adrian more recently.

She tilts her head, not quite understanding. "Would that be such a bad thing?" Staying. Talking. Letting her help.

"I have ever been an unwilling leader of men. Heroes are not born, they are made. I have never wanted to fill the shoes my brother left for me. I..." He bites his lip. "You are very nearly a sister to me. My brother loves you, and that is well. Will you forgive me if I stay?"

April smiles a little, one of those smiles that conveys both "You're such an idiot" and "I love you anyway".

"Why in the world would I need to forgive you?" she asks. "I was rather hoping you would. Silly. All my brothers are unbearably silly." but she says it with such fondness that you can tell she doesn't mind.

He answers her tone with a quiet, shaky laugh, and relaxes a little. His shoulders slump back and his ever-so-proper posture is a great deal more casual. More human. But he has no less of that unbreakable strength of spirit, that light that is in him no matter how dark his dreams are. There is a kind of straightforward purity about him that is almost childlike. But it is childlike in the way that Elvish joy is childlike -- it endures because it can be nothing but what it is. He would be nobility even were he dressed in rags and crawling in a gutter.

And he is a Prince even as he lgrasps her hand with his, allowing himself the touch of another person.

And April feels... honored, really, is the only word for it. Honored that he trusts her, honored that he considers her almost a sister.

She settles back in her chair, her hand clasping his just tight enough to let him know she's not going to let go until he wants her to, and looks out the window.

"It's so beautiful," she murmurs.

"I have seen what seemed to be the end of the universe before I came here. It was beautiful then, because I was not alone. It is beautiful now, for the same reason, gwathel."

He smiles at her, and watches the universe end.

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