Strange Feelings (Adara and Emilian)

[Emilian Sota]

Emilian put his elbow on the desk that was beside him and rested his head on his hand. "I would love to hear a story," he said softly as he watched her dress. Now that he was thinking about it, he wanted something of hers, but there was nothing he could take. But, he had taken something from her, hadn't he? A small smile turned up the corner of his mouth. Yes, he had, and that was enough for him. He didn't need a memento from her.

[Adara Snow]

Adara turned to see Emilian smiling, a smile that sent warmth through her no matter how sore or tired she might be. She blushed lightly as she made her way to Emilian's side, taking the seat next to him. "What kind of story would you like to hear?" she asked. Again, it was only fair. Especially considering the knowledge that she would continue this game for as long as she could.

[Emilian Sota]

"A story about a girl. About a moment she'll never forget, good or bad," he answered, still smiling. Adara's words were so wonderful to give back to her. Emilian watched her, looking into her eyes, his own sparkling. He was interested to know what she would come out with. What kind of stories could she have for him?

[Adara Snow]

Adara's lips curved in genuine delight at Emilian's phrasing, at knowing with certainty that he listened to her, that he found her words pleasing. "All right," she said, thinking for just a moment before deciding what she wanted to tell him.

"She had been practicing her letters since she could properly hold a quill, in some journal or another. Her tutors gave no praise, but she needed none. It was the day she received one certain journal that she will never forget.

"It was her thirteenth birthday, and the gift was from her father, an old book covered in rose and gilt brocade. The book, he explained, had been her mother's, though she had never written a single word inside it. She was to use it as she saw fit, not to practice her script or her grammar, which she had long since perfected. The book was freedom.

"The first pages were echoes of her practiced writings, descriptions of a particular flower or the day's events. But one day she wrote a dream in the book, and soon, tucked between her usual entries, a story unfolded, her dream, and forever after, her secret."

Adara stopped then, folding her hands to wait for Emilian's response. Would her story be enough?

[Emilian Sota]

Emilian watched her and listened intently, trying to catch any idea from it. The story seemed fairly normal to him, girl gets diary, girl writes in diary. But then she called it a secret. "Why a secret? If her father gave her the book to use however she wanted, then why hide it?"

[Adara Snow]

Adara's lip found its way between her teeth, and she looked down at her hands, folded demurely in her lap. "Dreams are not reality," she said at last, "and as such, they are not productive. The time spent in dreaming could be spent otherwise, in improving other skills or in learning. Dreams accomplish nothing more than dissatisfaction with one's lot in life, something one must accept." Adara watched the tension in her knuckles and forcibly loosened them, but did not look up.

[Emilian Sota]

Emilian thought on her words for a moment, and could understand the reasoning, though he didn't exactly agree with it. "But if one doesn't dream, how does one better their life? Learning can only take someone so far." The objective 'one' came out naturally in response to Adara using it. But who was he to challenge what she had been taught? "Did she always accept what was dealt her?"

[Adara Snow]

"For as long as she could recall, yes," Adara replied, looking up at Emilian again. "Who better to guide her than those who had lived longer, and who had more experience than she? In learning all that one can, one begins where others have left off, past their mistakes, and one can only move forward from there, improving on what has already been improved."

[Emilian Sota]

"So there was never a time where she went out to find answers on her own? How did she know that what they were telling her was right?" Emilian always doubted everything that everyone told him. Though that was how he had been raised, he had grown up around dishonest people so it was only natural to be skeptical. He wondered how long Adara would let the questioning go on before asking him for another story, and his mind started working to be prepared whenever it happened.

[Adara Snow]

They had finally hit on the issue of trust, and though Adara had not contrived to draw the conversation to this point, she was glad that they had reached it. "She simply trusted them, and never discovered a reason not to trust them. She found things as they had been described, and found that things worked as she expected. They never failed her."

Adara paused only a moment to let those words settle before speaking again. "Did the boy ever trust someone?" She paused again before correcting herself. "Did he ever find someone worthy of trust?" Adara had no thought of herself, only a hope that some time in Emilian's life, he had been able to trust as she had.

[Emilian Sota]

"Almost." That was all that Emilian could say without lying. "There was one person, another boy, that he thought he could trust. It was as close to trust as he could get. And then that person shattered the phantom trust that had been there." Emilian's family would have sold him if it would have helped them out, even Michael's family couldn't be trusted. He put his elbows on his knees and messed with his fingernails, focusing his gaze on his hands.

[Adara Snow]

Emilian had never had anyone to trust? It was difficult for Adara to comprehend, but she forced herself to accept it. His life was so at odds with her own, and yet, in this arena, with a thin veneer of pretense between them, they felt so very alike. "If he will watch and wait," Adara said softly, "the boy will find someone that he can trust, I promise you." She would not ask that he trust her, but she would ask that he let her show him what trust could be.

[Emilian Sota]

Emilian turned his face towards her, but didn't really focus on her face, he appeared lost in thought. After a few moments he met her eyes, "He'll find someone to trust when she can accept her dreams, when she can question what people tell her." A small smile came to his lips before he looked away again. "I don't believe that he can ever trust someone as completely as that girl did."

[Adara Snow]

Adara worried her lip between her teeth. When she can question what people tell her. Was he asking her not to trust? Adara tried to argue with his other requirement, that she accept her dreams. She had accepted them in continuing to write them, had she not? But no, she had told Emilian why dreams were unacceptable. She wrote, against what she believed. That realization, that her writing was more than a guilty pleasure, that it was, by her own definition, wrong, rocked her. Adara's breathing shallowed as she tried to recall how she had made the decision to do such a thing, but there was no moment of conscious decision. Her writing had developed into what it was now. Adara's eyes were unfocused as she slipped deeper into her mind, struggling to piece together her beliefs with her actions, and perhaps trying to justify them both.

[Emilian Sota]

Emilian watched Adara, wondering what was going through her mind. How had she interpreted what he said? A part of him was afraid that she would accept his terms and that he still wouldn't be able to trust her. He wished he could trust her, it would be sweet relief to be able to tell her all of his secrets and to not have to worry about being betrayed or laughed at. He shifted, uncomfortable with his thoughts, and refocused on her. "Are you ok?"