sweethymns | Mι∂ηιgнт ιη Ƥαяιѕ

[HAND ON GUS'S HEAD ONCE MORE.]

Will never be found again.

Edited 2015-11-30 06:42 (UTC)

Ah, I'm joking! Joking!!

[ PUTTING HIS HANDS UP... in the universal surrender motion! ]

I didn't want to make it too heavy, because sad things aren't things I want to talk about? But I want to promise that as long as I live, I'll always find a way to come back here. Alright?

[Iona lets out a laugh because of Gus, because of Oren, because of them both.]

You know what? Knowing you, I'll believe that and I'm holding you to that promise, okay?

Good!

[ And he really looks pleased, genuinely, as he sits up and grins with his whole face.

But wait, speaking of promises and being here— ]

...And I'm pretty sure Claude feels the same way? He's kind of. In house arrest right now, but he'll be back too! I'm sure of it!

[Her expression falters slightly upon hearing that.]

Ugh, really? [She rests her chin on the table, miffed.]

Well, if you can, tell him not to get too comfortable there okay? I told him he's supposed to visit.

Haha...

[ Some dry laughter here, because... well. You Know. ]

I've been trying to get them to ease up on his house arrest, but they keep saying that he doesn't seem to have learned his lesson...

...Probably because he's not that inconvenienced...

...

You know how he is...

[ The hikikomori life. ]

I did not rip off my skirt for him to just be holed up in there.

[Sitting up and crossing her arms.]

Although, I guess Oren could make a care package if he's gonna be there for a while.

He'd probably like that? In his own way, even if he never talks about liking anything. Except for his job, maybe. And even then, he's roundabout about it...

[ Claude's super secret affinity for sweets: the ongoing saga. ]

He likes you, too! I think. He usually doesn't bother, you know, going out and seeing people. Or talking to them for longer than he has to.

Does he now?

[... Iona's not sure why, but she feels pleased upon hearing that. For some reason. Like, she may have a idea, but it's a troublesome thought and there's a lot of problems on the plate she and the boys have to balance already and--

Ooooverthinking it.]

Alright, care package it is. Oren can make the package look discreet enough so it won't look suspicious.

[Aka, look like something that came from the FUTURE much less a magic cafe.]

That sounds good to me! As long as it doesn't earn him another week or two of being holed up.

[ He rests his chin on the wood counter, feels how warm it seems to be even with nothing on it. Magic, maybe? ]

He says that he doesn't like looking forward to anything, but he'll probably look forward to seeing you and Oren again. I wish he did that more, but I'm not gonna push him.

Delicious sandwiches, a simple dessert, and a nice sweet tea shouldn't be a problem! Unless people think the tea is magic, which it kind of is because it's delicious...

[Oren's gone back to keeping himself busy with cafe work again and Iona sits up straight, smiling again, back to a good mood.]

So, since you're here, want to try something new? It's fall so we've got pumpkin cheesecake!

Pumpkin cheesecake?! Get me three slices!

[ Gus, how are you planning to play for this...

But of course, he's thoroughly content with everything that happens hereafter, content with talking and laughing and getting full on cake and coffee, content with almost falling asleep at his table, content to stagger out of the Grind in a half-sleepy haze. He makes sure to take the box of goodies that Iona hands him on his way out, and finds a way to funnel it to Claude discreetly and without incident; he's sure of the latter because he receives a note the next day, immaculate handwriting saying, simply:

Regards to the chef.

Claude will be Claude... ]

[ And it's a few days later, almost bordering on a week, when the front door of the Grind rattles open and a smartly-dressed figure ducks in to avoid the light Paris drizzle that'd greeted him on his first day following his release.

Brushing aside a few drops of water from his shoulder, Claude looks up as if there's absolutely nothing out of the ordinary, as if this is the first time he's coming into this cafe. ]

Table for one, s'il vous plait.

[ nerd.................. ]

Such indecisive weather today— one wonders if it's a sign that I should have stayed indoors.

[And much like before, it's Oren who's there to greet Claude first. He was drying some cups before looking up to see who the customer is. It's been another slow day so Claude gets the cafe to himself. Lucky.

Oren nods in acknowledgment.]

Not pouring. Not like first time.

[He gestures at the newly installed table and bench.]

Take if you'd like. Plenty of room.

You've remodeled. I barely recognize the place.

[ Is his comment regarding the new furniture, which he recognizes with a sharpness that would be characteristic for him, but also: he usually doesn't care to comment about these things, so his dryness is largely wasted. He missed you, Midnight Grind. Maybe.

Obliging the offered seat, Claude settles down and shrugs his coat off, hangs it over the empty chair next to him. ]

Alone today, butler? I've avoided the storm, have I?

[Oren wordlessly pours out a cup of fresh coffee, sugar cubes and cream on the side and serves it to Claude.

And then continues over to the door. Looks like someone's doing some fetching.]

[ Ah. Claude's not entirely sure if Oren's silence is a good or bad thing— he was going to hand Oren a note in the event that Iona was out, but now he?? Doesn't have to, he supposes.

So he takes a sip of coffee, watches as Oren purposefully strides over to the door.

(He'll have to drink quick, he figures. He has a feeling Iona is going to do something rash...) ]

[For Oren, he opens the door slightly ajar as it reveals the sleek apartment room. And from inside, there's soft music playing inside along with that certain someone singing along quietly and dreamily.]

"What did you say?
I know I saw you saying it
But my ears won't stop praying
Long enough to hear those sweet words
Spoken like a melody..."

[Oren actually pauses as if he... May enjoy the sound. It's hard to tell because Oren is someone whose blunt words and straightforward actions painted him.]

"...Come on in
Did you have a hard time sleeping?
'Cause a heavy moon was keeping you awake
And all I know is I'm just glad to see you again..."

[And then Oren speaks up.]

Visitor. You know the one.

Hm? Oh. OH!!!

[And thus, Claude is doomed because Iona jumps up from her spot in the kitchen where she was writing down some notes and zooms over to the cafe entrance, poking her head in, and lighting up at the sight of Claude Aubert. She's dressed in casual clothes, a white long sleeved blouse, a long indigo skirt with a white pattern, and she's barefoot, save for the silver anklet around her right ankle, that jingle when she moves.]

Took you forever! Welcome back!

[ There's something nostalgic about it, the sound of singing through open doors. Claude can't say that he appreciates music beyond his ability to identify most pieces written during his time (for 'conversational purposes', he'd been taught), but he probably could have spent the next few minutes listening to Iona if he'd been given an opportunity.

He has his coffee brought to his lips when Iona finally appears, and he smiles carefully over the rim of his cup before he takes a sip and sets the porcelain back down onto its saucer. ]

Do try to smile less, you might blind someone with how bright it burns.

[ Play nice, Claude. He tips his head to the side. ]

It's been a while.

Literally weeks, Claude!

[One can see the bounce in her step as Iona steps into the cafe, bare feet and all as she bounds over to Claude.]

I'm happy to see you! I'm guessing Gus safely gave you the care package from us?

Come, come. There are people who I see only once a year, and even that seems excessive. I would have thought you'd be fine with putting a few months between my visits.

[ Victorian social standards mixed with Claude's standards, a dangerous combination. ]

But, yes. I've received your package, despite every effort to dissuade the tedium of gift-giving. I suppose I'm obligated to give you something in return.

Once a year? Excessive? C'mon, I'm not like that one relative you're obligated to see once a year! At least I hope not...

[She plops herself down across from him and lays her arms across the new table.]

Do you feel like it though? I remember telling you to at least visit and so far, so good.

Edited 2015-12-01 01:04 (UTC)

Miss Iona. If you were a relative of mine, I assure you that I would have walked out of this door the moment I stepped in.

[ Which, in his language, means that Iona is far from being a social contract that he has to obey; if she were, he wouldn't be here. But he's not generous nor honest enough to offer that information without extreme digging.

So he quirks his lips up instead. The expression isn't lightly crooked like his half-brothers'. ]

As for the gift-giving, I suppose you'll have to be content in the knowledge that I came straight here instead of dawdling around Paris for a suitable offering.

I'll consider that an achievement. Go team!

[Iona beams although now she has to ask him...]

So if it's not too much, I could ask you to tell me what exactly happened after you both returned from the cafe? I'm sure Oren left a lot of people wanting.

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