fandomhigh | Library; Wednesday [ 09/26 ]

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Library; Wednesday [ 09/26 ]

Beto nki tutasala? Opening the library, of course. No Congolese word for library, for they have no books. But they have poets, in the simplest of things. Adah had liked that.

She wondered what would happen if she put a sign on the door today that simply read "Uoy Knaht. Yadot Flesreh ot ecaps eht lla ekil dluow Hada; desolc yrarbil." It was a nagging question, but she had already sat down, and walking over there was too much effort. Besides, she didn't need to whole space; a small barrier of books, like a circle of ashes, would suffice just fine.

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Putting it off was tempting, but there were other factors. Putting it off would mean that she might actually never have the chance because all of this would seem rather silly and foolish outside of the situation. That might be a good thing; after the whole thing with River just yesterday (strange to think that it was just yesterday; yesterday seemed so long that it could have been ages), Adah wasn't sure she could handle all of this. Too much of that which left her ignorant and confused. However, perhaps she was wrong, and there would be nothing and it really was just the stress of what happened with River altering her usually sharp perception of things. If that was the case, she was making the proverbial mountain out of an anthill.

Didn't mean the ants couldn't still tear flesh. The toes of her left foot curled slightly in her shoes, part out of nervousness, part out of remembering.

And then, making her decision, Adah moved her head. She glanced over at the Eel, blinked her eyes a few times as if to clear them, and idly attempted to brush some of her hair out of them before, holding her breath, she settled her gaze calmly on Lee's.

When her gaze settled on his, he offered a small smile, just a small upturning of his mouth.

And he didn't hide anything, not that he had been before. Now, it was more letting what he'd been feeling show in his eyes, not in his words. He'd never been the best with words anyway. Took after his father in that respect.

He held her gaze steadily, didn't blink and let her look, see him.

Her own eyes dancing slightly as if uncertain where to really settle and start looking, Adah found herself to be blinking more than she would have liked, but, other than that, it was the only movement she made. She'd almost felt as if the compulsive, repulsive pumping of the chambers of her heart had ceased, if just for a bit, as if even white and red blood cells in their veins would be too much movement. Just as she'd start thinking that, though, it would let out a thump, a twitch, pushing into its robotic job, but at least it was keeping the blood out of her cheeks. It wasn't difficult at all to do what she'd set out to do; she imagined herself having River's ability to read mind, wondering, stretching to try to see what the Eel might be thinking, but she realized she didn't need to. Looking over into his eyes, she could see doors, opening. Wide doors, large doors, into breezy rooms with big windows that let sunlight in but rain out. It didn't seem to matter at that moment what was in the room. Its open nature was the thing. Gniht eht saw, erutan nepo sti.

She smiled lightly; the Eel's eyes were incredibly nice to look at.

"You have an open invitation," he said quietly, still not glancing away from her gaze, "to look whenever you'd like. And if looking makes you smile like that, you should do it some more."

He leaned a little closer, relaxing muscles that he hadn't realized were tensed in nervousness and was quiet again.

If Adah was the type to feel bad about things like that, she would then feel bad over the fact that the Eel's statement changed her smile, sharpened it a little. Impossible not to, not with him saying things like that, leaning a little closer. Her eyes, very quickly, darted, like a mouse trying to cut across a deer path before the lynx stalking it could stop it, down from his eyes, as she wondered what the Eel would think if her unasked question about what else the open invitation might extend to if it were not unasked. She was glad for it being unasked, as she still wouldn't know what to do with the answer. Her eyes darted back up, searched his eyes again; maybe it didn't even need to be asked...

She became slowly aware of a tightening pain in her chest, from holding her breath, which she wasn't aware she was doing until that moment.

He thought about shifting away, moving, but he didn't. He stayed right where he was, eyes still on hers.

"Whatever your thinking," he finally said, "it's all right. You saw what you think you saw because I wanted to show you."

Adah had to go over that another time in her head to make all the yous and saws were properly aligned, correctly balanced. Her smile grew a little. The Eel sounded quite confident to think he knew what she thought she saw, but with good reason. She would have liked to have thought that she would have seen it whether he wanted to or not, but, biting her lip and ducking her head for a moment, she glanced back up through her hair with a question. And why, exactly, had he wanted her to see it? What did he expect her to do with this newfound knowledge?

He grinned then, a slight blush creeping across cheeks and crawling around his ears. He relaxed a little more, fingers drawing invisible words on the desk in front of him.

"You are," he started and had to stop for a moment, had to gather his words up and make them better. "You are very perceptive and very smart. Why should I hide it when I can show you?"

Adah was reluctant; part of her just wanted to maintain the gazing to see if she could manage to keep it unfaltered, but the movement of the Eel's fingers caught her attention more and dropped her eyes to watch them move, head tilting in an attempt to make out if there was any purpose, or rhythm or reason to them, or if they were just moving for the sake of moving. She let out a soft sigh, a happy one, considered having her fingers interrupt his in some off way to thank him for recognizing that about her, not bothering to hide things, with a slight stab of guilt for how much she was constantly trying to hide. She didn't do that as often with him, though, she realized, and that thought it was caused her hand to creep forward a little, fingers like the leg of a spider to close of bit of the distance. Not entirely all the way. That could be his open invitation.

He caught the movement and looked down, watched her fingers come closer and, in turn, swirled his fingers closer. Not entirely touching, not yet, but ghosting near the tips of her fingers, around the sides of her hand before they returned to their original position.

He looked up, caught her eyes before he closed that last bit of distance, took the invitation and used one finger, softly, to run just over hers, near the knuckle.

Smiling lightly, Adah closed her eyes and mused to herself how it wasn't really very fair, that something as small as a brush of a finger against hers would have such an effect on her. But touch was just something Adah had never been used to; she was used to people regarding her deformity as if it were something contagious. But injustice never ruled forever (thank you, Seneca), and, maybe, eventually, she'd be able to keep her body from shivering, her shoulders from shifting, her lips from curling up into that expression that was betraying any attempt to not seem effected.

Still wasn't fair; lifting her heavy eyelids, she glanced over to Lee, wondering if he had any idea at all the sort of injustice he dealt.

"Soft hands," he said, keeping his eyes on hers and moving that one finger up a little higher, touch still gentle, until he was drawing light circle on the top of her hand.

He dropped his eyes then, watched his finger on her hand for a few moments before looking back up at her and saying, "Capable hands."

Singular. Hand. Not plural, only one. The right hand was useless, limp. If the Eel was passing his fingers across its back, Adah might not even even notice that it was happening. Nothing but dead nerves, skin, bone. But this....of course it was capable. It had to be. She did everything with that hand. That hand that feeds, the hand that reached, grabbed, felt, talked. Her strongest asset, her only weapon. And she was letting someone touch it. Very suddenly, it became very clear why something so simple to other people was built into a complex in Adah. Very suddenly, there was a flash of panic in her eyes, and then, with a jerk of her body reacting faster than her brain, her hand pulled away sharply. Her face filled with red, but it was too late now and, besides, even if she told her hand to move back, the body wasn't responding. "..S...Sorry." Shoulder locked, all her supposedly capable hand could do now was curl up against her chest.

"Why are you sorry?" Lee asked gently after he'd realized what happened, had seen the panic in her eyes and watched her hand curl away from him. "You don't have to apologize to me for that. It's all right. Are you all right?"

Adah's mouth opened like she was going to say something, but it was faltering, and really, it was just fer feeling like she was losing more control again. Sharply, she steeled herself enough to make sure she could give her head a shake, to assure him that she was oaky, she was fine, fine, fine...Just needed to get her shoulder loose, loosen the elbow to unfurl the tucked arm. This was exactly what she'd been thinking to River the other day, that loss of control, the loss of everything, and the panic...Dog, the panic, like drowning...

She closed her eyes tight, against everything else but her own breathing. She was fine, fine! She just needed a moment...just herself, her half brain, her disobedient body.

"All right," he said quickly, straightening up for lack of not knowing what else to do. "Should I..."

He'd been about to say 'help' but he remembered that look from the other week and bit that off just before it came out of his mouth.

"...keep talking?" That was lame but he needed to say something. "Or be quiet?"

It didn't really matter; Adah had tuned everything but herself out. Control was important, the most important thing. She had to suspend everything and get everything aligned again, balance things, balance the mind, the body, the nerves...Slowly, her hand began to uncurl, her hand went to the desk and her fingers spread out. She took another breath, another moment. Her fingers inched across the space for her pen.

She wasn't quite organized enough to write something witty like she'd prefer. All she could scratch out was "I'm fine..."

"Okay," he said, nodding once and taking a quiet breath. "Okay. I brought you something. I almost forgot."

Adah blinked again, giving her head a small shake. Her brain was still reeling a bit, and her body was feeling suddenly exhausted from the backlash.

"You did?"

"Yeah," he said, smile returning just slightly. He bent down, picked up the book (http://en.battlestarwiki.org/wiki/Arts_and_Literature_of_the_Twelve_Colonies#Kataris) he'd been carrying and slid it towards her slowly.

"I got a package from home the other day," he explained. "And my mother sent me this. From my father's bookshelf and pretty well regarded among the Colonials...the military of my world. I thought you'd like to read it."

Mrof detnirp dnuob ni drow nettirw eht ekil kcab Ada gnirb ot sgniht wef. She leaned forward, still slightly guarded, to get a better look at the book. Her lower lip tucked under her teeth.

"I still have to return to you the last book. I've read it. Both ways, a few times."

He shook his head lightly and chanced another smile, this time in her direction. "You can do that another time. I don't mind you having them both. I thought you might like the poems. I even wrote a few notes in there. Nothing huge but I tried."

Adah couldn't help smiling at that.

"Can't possible refuse notes. You'll have to forgive me if I don't dive right in, though; I'm feeling a little tired at the moment."

"Whenever you'd like," he said and nodded. "I should get going, let you have a relaxing rest of the day in the library."

He left his apology unsaid even though it was on the tip of his tongue, ready to pour out.

"It's always good day when I get to talk to you," he did say.

Adah could still tell that it was there, and she was actually glad it went unsaid. He had nothing to apologize for. And, while it would probably forever amuse her when people referred to a meeting with her as that, her smile was for something else he'd said.

There was a slight pause before she wrote back. "I feel..." Slight hesitation, trying to chose the right word, or, at least, the right word for her intent, "similarity. I always enjoy seeing you."

And she was grateful that what happened didn't seem to change the Eel's mind on the matter.

Re: Third Period -- 09/26

stupid-toasters.livejournal.com - 2007-09-27 02:30 (UTC) - Expand

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