OPEN | prompt two | LOVE

[wrens]

prompt two | L O V E And what you can never know from the beginning is how hard or how long you'll love something; how even when it is gone the love will chase you down, loping like dark flame through your blood. — Some lies are love. — Love blurs your vision; but after it recedes, you can see more clearly than ever. It's like the tide going out, revealing whatever's been thrown away and sunk: broken bottles, old gloves, rusting pop cans, nibbled fishbodies, bones. This is the kind of thing you see if you sit in the darkness with open eyes, not knowing the future. The ruin you've made.

 

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[functions]

[ The principle of constancy is one that's rare in Kent's life. Arguably, it hadn't even been present until he'd signed on with the ARCG. True, he still never stays in one place long, but there are anchors, now, and one of those anchors happens to be in the form of Antoinette Everett. And as much as he usually hates anything that means simply up and leaving if necessary won't be a possibility, in this case he can't find it in himself to complain. Instead, he takes what opportunities he can get to drop by under one pretext or another, for reasons that he hasn't yet allowed himself the time nor space to puzzle out.

When he spots her, he smiles, the reaction now a knee-jerk reaction as opposed to feigned politeness. ]

Hey. [ A beat. ] It's nice to see you.

[ Another beat, the silence this time punctuated by a twitch of his lips — the brief threat that that smile might grow any wider. ]

Red's a good color on you.

[ So maybe it's a lie that he hasn't taken the time to think about it, maybe he's already figured out what it means that he takes the time to see her where their paths might not ordinarily cross. But it doesn't mean he's any better at being up front about it. ]

[reproduced]

[ Constancy is something that Antoinette is disturbingly familiar with. Sure, she may have lived in more than one place (a consequence of her parents and their jobs) but she always left an anchor or two behind. They can pull her back to the real world and to former homes if she lets them. Having them isn't bad for her, but she doesn't do what Kent or a number of others do, so perhaps it all depends on who you are and how you use your anchors. Her anchors vary, but honestly, he's one of her stronger ones along with the ARCG, they like what she does and she finds that it's one of the rare places she can get by with doing what she loves.

Her lips form her own smile once he says a greeting back with his smile. She remembers when it used to be politeness, the smile she sees him give to other people. She likes this real one better. It's more pleasant, makes her feel special. ]

You think so? Some people say blue is a better one on me.

[ It's a deflection, since she always worries (and loves) when he points out that red looks good on her. Love looks good on her, makes her glow almost. Of course, that's stretching the truth a bit, maybe. She won't be upfront with it even when he points it out or when he's in places she knows he shouldn't be, but she'll continue to make comments like this. Blue is the color of her eyes, and she wonders if he notices. ]

Are you busy?

[functions]

[ He notices. (Of course he notices. After all, her eyes are the sort of blue that's hard to forget. There are small things like that — detail on a painting, the trim of a frame — that stick in his memory, and her eyes are a couple of them. Along with the jut of her chin and a plethora of other things that he has found himself lingering upon but refusing — at least, so far — to consider the implications of.) He notices, but he keeps his reaction to a simple nod. ]

Not particularly, as it happens, [ he says, in response to her second question, with a half-shrug. ] Are you?

[reproduced]

[ (Details are important, she has to remember them all and get them exactly right or no one will believe that their holding the real artifact. And if she doesn't, she might forget how he looks when he's particularly happy or particularly focused.) She shakes her head before biting her lip. ]

I'm actually ahead of schedule for once. [ There's a pause, just like there always is because it always feels weird asking him for lunch (it's not a date, not really). ] Do you want to go out to lunch? You and me?

[functions]

[ And there it is again, the smile that marks itself out as genuine, the original amidst a sea of halfhearted copies. (He wonders, from time to time, how much she can tell; she's the expert, after all, and from the work that he's seen, she more than deserves the title.) All in all, Kent doesn't bother trying to be too subtle about the fact that he enjoys Antoinette's company. There's no one else, after all, that he actively seeks out, not to this extent, at least, and there's no one else that he's accepted an invitation to lunch from. ]

I'd love to, [ he tells her, with a slight bob of his head. (It's not a date, not really, and yet, regardless, they serve as a bright point in his day, whenever they do get a little time together. Funny how things like that work out.) ]

Any place you had in mind?

[reproduced]

[ That smile, that genuine smile, is put away in her heart and mind every time she sees it. Sometimes she worries that maybe one day he'll stop giving them to her, or one day she'll lose him because clean-up will go wrong, so she saves them- locks them away to notice every day she can. (She notices far more than she'll ever admit. Part of her charm is how innocent she can seem. No, sir, I have no idea what that is.) Kent may refrain from being too subtle, but to be perfectly honest, Antoinette isn't too subtle about whose company she prefers to keep. She has friends other than him who she seeks out, but not to this extent. At least, she certainly doesn't ask them out for dinner. ]

Are you sure, [ she asks, checking just to be certain that he's being honest. (It's not a date, not really, but it's something that will cheer her up even on the worst days. Funny how it's just being around him that does it. Who would have thought?) ]

There's a new restaurant, good reviews and all. Might not be a quick trip in and out, but you did say you weren't busy. Or our usual. Your choice.

[functions]

The new place, then, [ Kent says, with a quick nod. (He's being honest. She's one of the very few people that he's completely honest with. Not that anybody has much way of telling. As far as lies are concerned, he'd become a master of them a long time ago.) ]

We can make a date with our usual place, say, next week.

[ His wording is careful. It steps upon the toes of what these outings are (a date with the diner, not a date), and makes sure to include the plural (our). The sentence isn't a castaway, isn't thoughtless, and there's a certain quirk to his smile that seems to imply as much. ]

So. Where are we headed?