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Library | Saturday

A fire was burning brightly in the library, waging a cheerful battle against the cold of the snow outside. Griff wasn't asking where it had appeared from as the fire was currently keeping him from freezing in the dark. As there was no work to be done in the dark stacks, he'd quickly found something to read from his list and settled in.

It was a situation fit for a terrible romance novel: crackling fire, blankets, and good books.

The library was open.

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Carry a candle if you wander into the stacks, it's pretty dark over there.

Reading by firelight will lead to eventual eyestrain, so interruptions won't be frowned upon.

Fiona was not the most skilled at finding Griff, but she knew he worked at the library and with things as they were today, there was no way she wasn't searching him out. She'd meant to do just that yesterday, for a host of other reasons, but due to ~~handwavy reason involving the mun's 7 hours on a train and 1.5 hours sleep~~ hadn't managed to make it to him.

"Griff?" she called, reasonably sure he'd be there. After all, it wasn't as if the situation was going to stop him from being able to get anywhere.

Roused from his book, he raised his hand and waved from where he sat in a pile of blankets by the fire. "Over here! Didn't expect many customers today."

Though possibly he should have, given there was no power and thus no entertainment.

She made her way over and flopped unceremoniously next to him.

"I have books," she teased.

"So not really a customer. Just looking for you."

"Books you haven't read," he countered, wondering why she was looking for him or if some of the events of the week had made radio. He should really listen to that sometime.

"I should use this time to brush up on my Italian," she said back.

"How're you?"

"Cold," he said, going with the obvious and far less self-reflective answer. "I'm tempted to hop elsewhere for a generator."

She considered asking if there was anymore to it, but--

"Not sore or anything?"

She hadn't heard the news report that had told of the fight with Karev, only the report that told of Karev talking about the fight. Third hand information was unfortunately unhelpful.

"No...what'd you hear?" He assumed what she'd have heard - probably some twisted story from Karev's end of it.

"Just that you'd gotten into a fight," she said without much inflection. It wasn't quite the emotionless Fiona voice of the past, but it was obvious she wasn't investing in it too much until she heard about it from him.

"Also that you'd helped bring Dinah to the clinic. I have to go look for her as well."

He stiffened, not having realized the second thing made radio. "Seems you heard right. Maybe it's a case of right place wrong time or vice versa."

She nodded.

"So..." and then she seemed frustrated with the little dance of politeness and worry and--

"Are you okay? About Karev or Dinah or... well, the radio wasn't exact on how she got there, but the word 'teleport' was used in there."

"'M fine," he said automatically, trying to shrug it all off. "She needed a ride and I was there."

She didn't believe him. But she also knew that she had no right to force him to tell her. She just sought out his eyes with hers before she spoke.

"If that changes, I'm here. And... I know she's your friend too, but thanks."

He looked away, unable to meet her gaze because no one was really there for him and it was better all around if they weren't. "No thanks needed. Good cause for exposure and all."

She looked away as well, visibly stung, but she wasn't going to make this about herself. She refused to.

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Wasn't as if Azula could very well carry her," he added, just to keep the conversation flowing since awkward talk was better than awkward silences.

Fiona wasn't sure what to say to that which wasn't pointless and unnecessary.

"I won't push, but at least acknowledge what I said."

"Acknowledge what?" Griff asked, looking sideways at her. His attitude had not improved through the course of the week and it wouldn't take much for him to start a pointless fight with anyone.

"You're not fine."

"How am I not fine? I'm stuck with books, blankets, and a fire all day. It's a new definition of fine." He knew what she meant but was choosing to ignore all of that, which was why he thought he was fine.

She crossed her arms.

"The same way I was fine with my friends and my books and my kitten for a month and a half."

A scowl hit his lips. "Maybe I'm better at being fine than you are."

"All evidence shows to the contrary," she said, stubborn.

Frustrated and feeling strangely trapped, he asked, "Are you looking to start a fight like Karev?"

She shook her head.

"No, that's not what I want at all," she said, sounding pretty frustrated herself.

"If you don't want to talk about it, just tell me you don't want to talk about it. But don't pretend like there's nothing wrong. It doesn't help."

"Don't you get it, there's nothing to help, Fiona. This is me." Because he wasn't sure he was ever going to be able to talk about it in a way that made anything better.

"What's you? Because this? The way you're being right now isn't what I know."

"Then maybe you don't know me," Griff said crankily.

She kept her head up but her insides felt as if they were burning, boiling. The combination of hurt and anger wasn't going to show on her face, though. Not if she could help it. Because she wasn't angry at him. She was frustrated, but, strangely, not angry.

"You'll have to try harder than that," she said firmly.

"If you want space, fine. I can give you space. But you're not scaring me off. Or pissing me off."

"Who needs to try?" Griff was pissed. He was frustrated and angry at himself and at her for making him think about things he didn't want to think about. "Just go. I don't need this."

"And what do you need, Griff?"

"I don't know, but it's obviously not you." He knew it would hurt her and felt a little guilty when the words left his lips, but his face didn't betray him.

The words hit her like a slap and she actually bit her tongue as her teeth clamped shut. Her fingernails pressed against her palm, leaving little crescents of pain but it kept her grounded against the real hurt.

When she spoke, though, it was quiet. Not calm, but quiet.

"'Dite told me something. It was that love wasn't complicated. It's just... caring about someone so much. Enough that it needs another word."

She tried to catch his eye. If she didn't, she'd just stare at his face.

"You can't cut that out of me, no matter how hard you try."

He was certainly not going to encourage such emotion from her. Not the way things had been going for him.

He looked her in the eye, his own seeming completely empty. "Then I suggest you find a new person to foist it on."

"It doesn't work like that," she said, unwilling to put her own emotions away. She knew she probably should have, that it would be easier, but she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. No, he would watch her hurt, he would watch the results of his actions.

"You're being a child. No, you know what? You're being just like my mother. Think you can control what other people feel. Like you have the right."

"Fine, call me a child, but you're not getting it," he said, getting to his feet. "It doesn't matter how you feel if I don't feel the same."

She snorted.

"Funny. Seems like you're the one who's trying to change how I feel to suit what you want."

Fiona kept her head up and wouldn't take her focus off of his face.

"Try a different tack, Griff. One that isn't so obviously bullshit."

"You're saying my feelings are bullshit, now?" Griff actually laughed a sort of surprised and angry ha. It seemed Karev was rubbing off on him.

"Listen to me: I don't love you."

She looked him right in the face.

"Listen to me: you never told me you did. And it doesn't matter if you do or you don't. I love you."

She breathed in, hard, to finish.

"And I think your words are bullshit. Don't put words in my mouth."

Griff stared at her, mouth gaping at the complete insanity of her argument. "Well, from my end, you and I are done. And since you won't leave, I will."

And then, as one might expect from a frustrated and angry sixteen-year-old teleport, he jumped away messily, leaving a large blue crackle of energy in the center of a swirl of smoke sucked from the fire.

She almost reached for his thread, but no. No, she'd said she wouldn't push and she'd already... sort of gone back on that. Instead, refusing to cry and refusing to give any kind of emotional response, she stiffened her spine and made her way out.

She'd lived through much worse things than being dumped. She'd survive.

Even if she felt she'd also just lost her best friend.

I feel hungover and all I did last night was read a book.

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Library | Saturday

Poke the Stacks

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OOC | Library