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Post by Maestro on Apr 28, 2008 16:47:47 GMT -5
((first bit taken from Miss Jack's last post in "Passing the Time"))
They reached the cemetery gates and Armand's pace slowed. It really was peaceful here. He wondered why he didn't come more often.
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The jacket across her shoulders came as a surprise, though a very pleasant one. "Thank ye," she murmured, smiling up at him. She hoped that he would not get cold now.
He had had to pull away from Iseabail in order to give her his coat and she missed that contact. For once, she didn't ask permission, she just took his arm again, renewing that little bit of contact between them. She would have just taken his hand, but that might have been a little awkward. As it was, her hand landed more on his wrist than his arm. What should she do? Should she move her hand back into the crook of his arm or take his hand? Indecisive, she let her hand rest where it was, for now.
She slowed to match his pace, taking a deep breath of the fresh cemetery air. "I love it here," she said quietly, not wanting to disturb the peace. "Have ye been to the cathedral?" Iseabail, being Catholic, went to the cathedral every week or so. Occasionally, when she was really stressed, she asked to leave rehearsal as soon as she was done, (she always got her notes later) so that she could go to the cathedral and just sit, lost in the peace of the place. And to share this peace with Armand, well, it was wonderful.
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Post by Miss Jack on Apr 29, 2008 0:12:20 GMT -5
He smirked, almost laughing. "No," he replied. "I, uh, I have relatives that are allergic to it, in a manner of speaking."
He felt the weight of her fingertips on his wrist as if they were magnets. It was almost uncomfortable because he was so conscious of the contact. He slipped his hand up in a more relaxed position, wrapping her fingers just barely within his own.
"I'd love to see it, though," he said.
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Post by Maestro on Apr 29, 2008 0:47:12 GMT -5
Iseabail laughed a bit, her smile lighting up her face. "Aye, I ken that," she murmured, grin still in place. "And by rights I should be, too." She supposed that she and Pia were just different in that respect. "I guess I have just become used to the slight discomfort, but it would take a remarkable bargain to make me trade the peace of the place for something else." Just what it would take, she would not say.
She smiled a bit as he shifted their contact and place her hand slightly more firmly in his. After all, she didn't really get to spend that much time alone with Armand. It seemed that they were getting more used to each other; the small bits of physical contact seemed to help, too.
"Come with me," she said quietly, a smile on her face again. Keeping his hand in hers, she led him to the cathedral. She didn't let go even when she opened the main door for them; she wanted to keep that link between them for as long as she possibly could.
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Post by Miss Jack on Apr 29, 2008 1:05:21 GMT -5
Women are powerful, his father used to tell him and Alexander. Their tears are like daggers, easy blackmail at their disposal, and their smiles are like the most satisfying wine. Armand felt like he knew a little what he meant.
He followed Iseabail into the church. He didn't dare speak, afraid to break the heavy silence that draped over the pews like a pleasant song.
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Post by Maestro on Apr 29, 2008 1:17:24 GMT -5
Iseabail released Armand's hand long enough to dip the fingertips of her right hand in the basin of holy water, grimace, genuflect, and stand up again. Feeling slightly bold, she took his hand again, flashing him a smile. She didn't speak; she just showed him around the cathedral, showing the proper respect to each of the sacred objects she presented to Armand. The whispered explanations that she heard in her mind were unnecessary; she could show him everything without speaking and they could just simply be, together in the cathedral, sharing the peace of the huge, old place of worship.
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Post by Miss Jack on Apr 29, 2008 1:34:03 GMT -5
Armand was content to let Iseabail lead him around. He appreciated the simplistic beauty of the cathedral, even if he didn't understand everything. It felt solitary and safe, even for someone who wasn't necessarily religious, like himself. And miserably, horribly, he liked her hand in his.
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Post by Maestro on Apr 29, 2008 15:53:52 GMT -5
When she had finished showing Armand around the sanctuary, Iseabail took them back outside. With a content sigh and a smile, she turned to Armand, almost as though she sought his approval of the place she found peace.
"Anyone is welcome to seek peace within the cathedral walls," she said softly, remembering the first time she had heard those words. "Ye dinna have to be religious to come here." She hoped that he would; it was a place of refuge. Maybe he could come here when he felt overwhelmed by the stresses of everyday life or .... yes, or even when he thought he was dangerous to others.
"How are ye feeling?" she asked suddenly, wondering if there was anything she could do to help him if he ever wanted it. Would he even ask her, if he needed help? She hoped he trusted her enough that he would.
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Post by Miss Jack on May 3, 2008 23:32:20 GMT -5
He glanced at her, startled, and then his eyes softened. He felt a twinge of annoyance that he couldn't respond with an honest 'I'm fine', but the barest of smiles traced his lips when he answered. "I'm alright," he said, voice quiet. The cathedral had a calming effect on him. He lifted a brow and touched the end of her hair. "You really worry too much about me."
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Post by Maestro on May 4, 2008 0:11:29 GMT -5
She smiled a bit, glad that he wasn't in pain, at least. "Aye, weel," she started, turning to look into Armand's eyes again (which might mean that she wouldn't be able to speak for a minute) and placing a gentle hand on his cheek, "If ye ever feel the need to escape, the cathedral's a good place for that."
In answer to his next statement, though, Iseabail laughed slightly. "Weel, I ... care about ye," she murmured, keeping her true words deep within herself. "I canna help but worry," she added, almost in a whisper. She had been looking into his eyes before, but she dropped her gaze and her hand from his cheek, resting both around Armand's chest-level, her hand very light. What would she do if Armand hurt her? Truth be told, she didn't quite know, but she would stick by him.
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Post by Miss Jack on May 4, 2008 0:22:08 GMT -5
He sighed heavily and caved in to the lure of the moment. It was easier not to try and be subjective, responsible, and simply do as instinct directed. He looked at her face and felt his heart twist. (His heart? What an ironic statement. All of it he knew about, anyway). He pressed his thumbs near her earlobes, his fingers cradling her neck, entwined with her hair. He skirted a brief kiss against her brow. "You worry me too," he admitted, sounding almost irritated by it.
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Post by Maestro on May 4, 2008 0:58:52 GMT -5
She worried him? Well, whatever Iseabail had been expecting him to say, it wasn't that. Raising her eyes to his, she looked into his gaze (oh, he had beautiful eyes...), her own searching.
"I worry ye?" she asked, a bit puzzled. "How do I manage to do that?" She honestly couldn't think of anything that she did that would worry Armand. Oh, his hands on her neck felt good. Rather than standing stiff, Iseabail let herself relax, leaning against Armand's chest. It was so tempting to just tell him, but she knew that she couldn't. At least, not yet.
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Post by Miss Jack on May 4, 2008 1:17:12 GMT -5
"By existing," he said with a wry smirk. He was tall enough that he could rest his cheek against the top of her head. Mostly, he admitted to himself, he was worried that he would hurt her; if not physically, then emotionally. He was worried that anything would hurt her. He had become ridiculously, unexpectedly protective, but it would be so much worse if he were the source.
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Post by Maestro on May 4, 2008 1:28:33 GMT -5
She worried him by existing? Och, Armand, if ye knew how I really feel about ye, what would ye think? Would ye still care as much about me? Iseabail was rather curious about that, but she wouldn't dare risk losing Armand's friendship. And who knew? Perhaps it was developing into something more. But Iseabail would not get her hopes up; friendship was good enough, at the moment.
Unconsciously, she slipped her arms around his back, resting her head on his chest. "Aye, weel, I shall try not to do things that will cause ye more worry," she murmured, glancing up at him with a smile. Her next words died in her throat as her eyes caught Armand's. "How can ye manage to make me speechless without doing a thing?" she whispered, not realizing that she'd spoken out loud.
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Post by Miss Jack on May 4, 2008 1:43:20 GMT -5
It was a mutual talent, he might have said, if he'd heard her correctly. But her words morphed and shifted in his head until he was quite certain she'd looked up at him and said Kiss me.
Again, he thought with a groan. A groan that cut off when his lips pressed to hers for the second time that day.
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Post by Maestro on May 4, 2008 1:57:01 GMT -5
While her mind may not have been expecting that kiss, Iseabail's body knew exactly what it was doing. One hand remained behind Armand's back, staying out of the way and just enjoying the feel of him. The other snaked up from where it had been resting and tangled itself in Armand's hair as the rest of her responded.
She deepened their kiss, closing her eyes. Whether he knew it or not, Armand kissed very well. Her heart started to race; this was the second time today that they had kissed; what did it mean?
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