[ P ] delicate

It was not typical that Florence wandered so far from Melrose, especially lately. She'd been sick on and off, sicker than she had been in a while. The nosebleeds, thankfully, had stopped, but she could not seem to shake the near-constant migraines. Nephele had examined her thoroughly and could find nothing wrong with her, and Florence had even gone to the College once or twice to be seen by some of her old professors. One thing was clear: there was nothing physically wrong with her. But there were rumors of an alternative explanation, one that sounded outlandish to her Outlander ears. She simply did not believe in the Fae. That was not fact or science -- medicine was.

But today she was feeling better, and she had decided to go and stock up on some herbs and poultices they were running low on in the clinic. She wished she could have spent the time to visit Victorian, though. They had not seen one another in a very long time. She had been busy with graduation, and starting her new job at the clinic. She loved it, but it had been daunting being on her own. There was a lot to learn still, and every day was different. But Nephele was an excellent teacher, and she believed she was in good hands.

She moved towards a stall smelling strongly of earth and spice. The merchant began to hark his wares, but she was most interested in the yarrow he had on display. And there was something else, too, but she couldn't get a good look. As she stepped forward to peer closer, she accidentally jostled against someone standing nearby. She half-turned and said apologetically, "Oops, sorry, I --" She broke off when she realized it was not a stranger, but someone she knew. Her heart dropped into her stomach. "Oh -- Caspian."

"We are all young and naive still."

@Caspian

CASPIAN SEAFARER

"..."

He hadn't seen her in quite some time. More than a year really, he realized with a start. And with that awareness came a strange sensation of foreigness where familiarity had once been. There had been a palpable chunk of his life that had been spent with her by his side, tending to his burns and bringing him water. She had been with him at one of the darker points of his life—or at least the most threatening.

And he'd offended her deeply. He'd played too roughly and shoved his foot in his mouth in the process. Since that moment, she'd withdrawn. More often than not, he had woken from sleep to find his wounds freshly cleaned and dressed. Rarely did she come when he was likely to be awake.

He hadn't seen her when he'd been discharged either.

Normally he would have left her alone but the guilt had gnawed at him so thoroughly that he'd gone to seek her out. And blood had been dripping ceaselessly from his nose but that had been a minor point. That affliction had taken care of itself at some point—another realization he had when he saw her. Not that Florence had done anything to help him, but he didn't begrudge her for that. Apparently she'd left. Gone... elsewhere, according to the college wolves he'd found. Naturally, no one had told him where she'd gone lest he be a spurned ex-boyfriend or a lovesick admirer.

So he'd gone home.
And his mother had died.
And... he joined a proper rebellion.
And he was in town before all hell broke loose to get a better sense of their inevitable battle grounds.

And... she was back. She was here.

All of these thoughts happened in a micro-second as he stared at her pale, yellow eyes.

"Ah, my disguise of not being a decrepit burn victim wasn't as effective as I'd hoped," he said half-heartedly, his humor like a flimsy shield although it lacked much feeling.

In his head, he'd prepared to never see her again. He'd never get the chance to apologize but she also wouldn't have to put up with him either, so that was a win win in a way.

But he could tell she wasn't pleased. Her expression was a couple degrees short of crestfallen, so he quickly bowed his head. "I'm sorry. As you were," and with a weak, mock salute, he turned to inspect other stalls. Never before had he been so interested in cracked earthenware.

- exit caspian unless stopped -

tempestuous soul

@Florence