Making Friends(Willow/Silver)

[Celyn Corvus]

Celyn watched and waited patiently, wrestling with the many thoughts fighting for dominance in her head. The cynic inside was telling her not to wait, but to demand while a more reasonable side told her that she should exercise her patience. As he handed her his notebook she was more confused than before. Taking it she slowly read, with ever line her eyes softened by just a fraction until she came to the end. Her eyes were transfixed on the last line, lips parting to speak, but there was nothing.

With his notebook in hand, she had become aware of her own sketchbook rolled up and tucked away in her own robes. He had just made it that much harder to pull away and for her to tell him that it was best they moved on or whatever it was she planned on doing. "Silver you..." she lkept her eyes on the book, her eyes scanning the words over and over again, heart racing; confusion much like before was setting in and it was her turn to be the one not knowing what to say.

Somehow, this had answered her question, no one would write something and only do it for kicks, she knew he was a writer, but this was unexpected. "Then who is she?" she finally looked up, biting down on her lower lip, she tried not to show the emotions she was feeling confused, flattered, ashamed, degraded and a strong emotion she wasn't even sure how to explain, but it was warm and welcoming and she almost succumbed to it, but there were to many others that was holding her back from turning into a mesh of someone 'sweet' she wouldn't be brought down that easily.

[Silver Blackwood]

Silver hoped he didn't feel as stricken as he looked, and he hoped she couldn't tell that he was mildly distracted by the many potential fates of his notebook, should he say the wrong thing. "She's... a friend," he said, though he hadn't even tested the word out in his own mind yet. "I... haven't known her... that long..."

Silver mentally winced at himself. Now he sounded like the jerk she thought he was, kissing girls before he even really knew them. But he'd felt like he knew them. That one conversation with Celyn had seemed to say so much, and Willow had been reading his poems and trading quotes... It sounded like a weak excuse without even saying it, but he didn't have the self-control his brother did. His self-control with girls had never really been tested.

[Celyn Corvus]

The only response she could form was the tiny 'oh' on her lips. She's... a friend., the words stung her, so was Celyn herself just 'a friend'? She couldn't believe that, his writing spoke volumes, but she couldn't seem to believe that Willow was just a friend as well.

The next line threw her off. What was he thinking? Where was all of this going and why was it that no matter how much she wanted to tell him at that exact moment that he could go have more with with his apparent friend- why couldn't she respond? Her mind was screaming at her to stop with the masochism and just make things easier for herself. "So are you going to just string us along for a bit longer? Where do we go from here?" another blunt statement, one which even her mentally cringe. Celyn eyes scanned his notebook, this time trying to memorize the lines just for herself, for inspiration, for the drawing that was coming to life on her sketchbook, just beyond his reach. She gently extended his notebook, for a moment forgetting it was still with her, perhaps not wanting to part with it so that she cold confirm that he really had written something for her.

[Silver Blackwood]

Celyn's words reduced Silver to feeling like a mangy dog strewing trash around an elegant mansion. His hopes fell, and he dropped his gaze to the notebook as he took it back, glancing down at the poem he already knew by heart. "I didn't mean to do that," he said. "I just... I met you the other day, and we talked, and... and then you left and I met her and like, maybe you forgot me 'cause... I know girls don't like me, I'm just a friend... then we were talking..." It was terrible speaking a stream of consciousness like that, but Celyn only seemed to be getting more hurt.

[Celyn Corvus]

Celyn tried to understand, but it was all so confusing. She shut her eyes trying to see if that would work, but his words were just a mess. Picking out bits and pieces she opened her eyes and shook her head.

She placed both her hands on either cheek of his in a jester to show he needed to get a hold of himself. "Silver, why would you make such an assumption? On the basis that yeah the ending of our last meeting was pretty screwed up, but we promised time to think." she couldn't see what was so hard about that minor detail? Celyn tried his 'just a friend' that seemed to be the only constant in his whole speech. "Has it ever occurred to you that a girl doesn't just want you as a friend?" Celyn had been outside the 'dating circle' favoring friendship, but Silver had been different, why was he underestimating himself?

Frustration was being added to her list of emotions and it was getting harder and harder to control. The mix was noticeable in her eyes, a reflectance of the bubbling emotion stirring under her facade of control. She was trying so hard, but the lack of progression was making it harder to control and the mixed emotions had seeped into her tone which was not softening, but getting quiter with each word, she felt defeated.

[Silver Blackwood]

Silver was completely confused, and more than a little unnerved by the feel of Celyn's hands holding his face. Why would he make such an assumption? Perhaps because he'd heard girls talk about him before and he knew he wasn't anything to look at. Perhaps because he'd heard the friends speech more times than he could count, in various forms.

He caught Celyn's hands and lowered them from his face. "I don't understand you," he said. It wasn't about her words. They were easy enough to interpret, but why was she doing this? They'd had one great conversation that had led to one amazing kiss and she'd walked away. Then shown up days later, pissed at seeing him with another girl that most definitely was not his girlfriend. She'd acted angry and hurt, got him so spun up that he could hardly think, and now she was questioning his motives again. He didn't know what was going on, but when he was this confused, he didn't just sit back and follow, he stepped back and thought about it, wrote about it until he understood.

[Celyn Corvus]

Had it been any light hearted situation then her response would have been a gentle laugh. He caught her off guard with that little comment; she had been so immersed in her own questions and confusion she hadn’t realized that the product of such was a mass of perplexity even as she rewound the conversation in her head.

Celyn had fallen silent looking away from him, she allowed her hair to hide her face; she was trying to figure out a way to respond. Celyn couldn’t understand what it was the she exactly said to make him say such, for she was a person who preferred simplicity. “If you meet someone and expect to understand them, then you might as well have never met them.” she looked up searching his eyes for some form of leverage, where was all this going?

[Silver Blackwood]

That wasn't at all what Silver had meant, and the continued misunderstandings were enough for him now. He let Celyn's hands go and took a step back. "A woman should soften but not weaken a man," he said. It was what she'd been working on since she'd found him here, and it had taken him this long, taken him seeing her pretend to be contrite and still subtly accusing him, to figure it out. "Sigmund Freud," he finished. His own words had met with failure after failure, and it felt like a lost cause.

[Celyn Corvus]

Celyn watched his movement deciding then and there that she would do both of them a favor. She crossed her arms, chewing down on her lower lip knowing that she wouldn't allow herself to regret the words she was about to say. "Then maybe I'm not the right women... if that's how you feel."

She replayed her own words and knew that it was best to leave things at it was and forget what had happened days ago. He had seemed content with Willow, from what she saw, and who was she to impose on that? She turned to look away towards the lake, her expression a frown.

[Silver Blackwood]

Whatever was left of Silver's hope for Celyn died with that. Since the moment she'd shown up here, she'd been trying to break him down, weakening him, and now, when he'd used someone else's words to tell her it was too much, that she was pushing too hard, she'd told him that if he felt that way, she wasn't right for him. Did she really mean that? He shouldn't be with her if she couldn't control him? He was thinking far too hard.

Silver shook his head, and his gaze dropped. "I'm sorry I hurt you," he said. "I won't do it again." He took another step back, then turned to walk away. He couldn't hurt her if he stayed away from her.

[Celyn Corvus]

She just nodded her head words were not right anymore. Celyn would not allow herself to be hurt, but she still was. Maybe it was best this way, she somewhat 'helped' him to make his decision and simplified things for the both of them.

Celyn couldn't seem to express how she was feeling; with his back turned to her she allowed her face to flicker to an expression of remorse. She should have just continued to talk to him that day, not kiss him. She tried to reply the past only with slight modifications and the general vision was a lot more simpler and less strained. She shook her head, she'd learn from this and make sure the shortest chapter of her life would just be forgotten, she had to...

Turning towards forest, she continued on turning her back on the little exchange that occurred. She had come outside to go to a quieter place and she would not change that. She sat down on a raised root and pulled out her rolled up sketchbook. Flipping through the pages she momentarily paused on one specific sketch eyes scanning it. Up until that point it had become one of her favorites, but all it did was induce more emotions she didn't want to handle. Shaking her head she flipped to an empty page and pressed her pencil harshly to the page the drawing taking a harsher look than her previous ones.