If a thing loves, it is infinite

[very_sharpe]

Thomas steps back a bit, taking a look around his apartment. The windows are open to let in the fresh air and the light. After months of living here, he's realized he could... decorate the place. He found some art to hang, perhaps stock art but it's all he can afford just now. It's nothing like Allerdale, soothing and bright. He has a more comfortable sectional, and a few bookcases now, with books on them.

On his coffee table sits his agenda book - he has two interviews this week - and an application for the local university. Though he's a little unsure that he's qualified, given his last education was completed in the late 19th century. Still, he'll hope, and he'll apply and see where it gets him.

There are two gallon-sized fish tanks: one on the kitchen color, another on a small table in the living room. Each housed a colorful betta fish. Thomas found himself a bit lonely, so used to having at least someone around all the time, that he thought something living might be nice. There are small plants sitting on the window sill: a pot of violets and a basil plant. He's never... grown anything before. And to be fair, he didn't grow these, but they haven't died on his watch, either. Surely that counts for something.

He's completely embraced modern fashion, utterly delighted by the sheer variety of ready-made clothes available. Today finds him in a pair of dark jeans and a sort of oatmeal colored sweater.

He picks up his mug of tea and the university application again, reading it over when he's a bit startled by a knock at his door. He's not expecting anyone. Thomas sticks the papers under his arm and answers it, tea still in one hand.

Comments

[puckandpie]

Thomas touches his face, the little mark right under his eye that I've noticed before, but always assumed to be a scar from a childhood accident or something. I never would've guessed that it came from a knife, especially not one wielded by his sister.

Again, for a long time, all I can do is stare. And try to process.

None of it sounds real is the thing. It sounds like some kind of horror movie or a Stephen King novel, the kind that Coach likes. But if there's one thing I've learned about Darrow and the people stuck here, it's that everything is possible, everything is real. Especially the stuff that sounds completely impossible.

"That's, uhm... that's a lot," I finally manage. "Why was Lucille-- Why..." I trail off if only because I don't know exactly how to finish the question. "Did... Does Edith know you tried to help her?"

[very_sharpe]

As much as Eric cannot quite ask the question, Thomas isn't sure he could answer it.

"Yes," he says. "I told her everything, before the end. I tried to save her, and the man that came to rescue her. I think, as far as I can tell, anyway, that it's why she still speaks to me."

He sighs, contemplating his tea.

"I haven't told anyone else that, before now. I hope you'll keep it in confidence. I hadn't wanted anyone to know, for Edith's sake more than mine."

[puckandpie]

"No, I'll... I won't tell anyone," I reply, though I can't deny that I feel a little more wary suddenly. Thomas has always seemed quiet and gentle and unassuming. Silly, I know, to presume so much based on only a few pleasant conversations.

To think he's actually died and, by the sound of it, really horrifically. I think it says a lot about him that he still tried to save the woman he loves, even after death. I have the feeling he doesn't see it that way, though.

"She's probably at least a little grateful, isn't she?" I ask instead, still watching him carefully. "I mean, I think I would be."

[very_sharpe]

"Yes, she is. More than a little, really. And she seems... relatively open to giving me a second chance. To be the man I ought have been before it was too late."

Thomas sighs quietly. "I hope this won't affect your opinion of me too terribly. It's been very nice having a friend so kind as you. I really can't remember the last time anyone's given me a fond nickname."

[puckandpie]

If I'm honest, I still have so many questions. But he's already shared so much and I can tell it hasn't been easy for him. And part of me isn't sure how much more I want to know. I've never liked horror movies all that much and, by the sounds of it, he lived one.

His words make me smile though, even if it's a little shaky. "Back home, a lot of my closest friends had hockey nicknames. I know you don't play, obviously, but I have another friend here named Thomas. He doesn't have a last name at all, or at least he doesn't remember it, so that makes a nickname a lot harder. Yours makes it easy."

It seems such a trivial thing in light of everything we've been talking about though and I let out a quiet, apologetic laugh as I wave that away. "Anyway, I'm glad you're okay with it. And I'm glad, uhm. I'm glad you felt you could be honest with me. Even if the story is really pretty terrifying. And if Edith is open to things after all that, well. I'd say that's a really good sign."

[very_sharpe]

"You think so?" Thomas feels guilty for bringing Eric even remotely close to the darkness he comes from, but it feels so good to have... a friend. Someone he can trust, and talk to. "You remind me of her, in some ways," he admits with a small smile. "A bright little light for someone that is very accustomed to darkness."

[puckandpie]

That comment surprises me a little, my eyebrows lifting even as I relax just a little further and let out a quiet laugh.

"Are you makin' a short joke callin' me little?" I ask, head cocked and voice teasing. I know he isn't, or at least not intentionally, and I can only hope he knows that. "But honestly, I'll take that as a compliment. I mean, it's obvious you adore Edith so that can only be a good thing. It's probably pretty obvious to her, too. Or at least I'd hope so."

[very_sharpe]

The teasing accusation prompts a smile. He's glad Eric still feels like he can talk to him that way. He was worried he'd frightened off a friend.

"I hope the same. I would like to make a more formal gesture, but I'm not entirely sure what's in keeping with more modern practices." He's caught up on a lot of history... but not quite that part. "I would like to court her," he admits, almost shyly.

[puckandpie]

"Oh my goodness, now doesn't that sound romantic?"

He's smiling quietly, almost shy, and I'm glad some of the weight of the conversation has been lifted even if I can't easily forget what it is he's told me. I'm not sure I ever will. I still have so many questions.

"Well, let's see. If you were home and had this chance, what would you do there? Let's see if we can modify a bit if we need to."

[very_sharpe]

"I might see her at a social event, or escort her to one. I would dance with her." He remembers well their first waltz, very fondly. "I don't know if Darrow offers many opportunities for that."

[puckandpie]

"Oh, well it seems like there's always somethin' like that goin' on around here," I tell him, perking up a little at the idea. "Maybe not always dances or anything like that, but I swear it feels like I'm always looking forward to one thing or the next. And I suppose, if one doesn't pop up anytime soon, we could make a reason. I do work at both a bar and a cat cafe. I bet I could think of something!"

[very_sharpe]

"I wouldn't be opposed to arranging something, if nothing comes up." He smiles at the thought - it wouldn't be untoward to ask Edith to an event, to accompany him.

But something Bitty said distracts him, just for a moment. "What on earth as a cat cafe?"

[puckandpie]

To be honest, I'm not exactly sure what I could wrangle together right off the top of my head. Maybe another pie-themed thing at Semele's if I can get Derek's blessing. Or maybe something centered around the Fourth of July even though there's every possibility we're not even in America any more. I'm not sure how real my summer will feel without that holiday, though.

My thoughts are derailed a bit by his quiet exclamation and I can't help but laugh a little. "Oh, it's... well it's like a regular cafe with coffee and tea and baked goods, but you also get to sit and spend time with the cats that live there. It's really neat! Do you like cats at all?"

[very_sharpe]

Thomas laughs. "It sounds... oddly delightful, actually. I never had a cat, but I think I wouldn't mind drinking tea and petting one."

It sounds a bit absurd, but he suddenly wants to try it. "I'll have to pay a visit."

[puckandpie]

"You should! My friend Blue runs it now and she's wonderful. I try to pop in a few times a week to bake up some things she can sell there so if you come by while I'm workin' I'll sneak you a cookie or three."

It's easy to get caught up in talking about baking though and I make myself remember why it is I'm here. "Anyway, back to Edith," I say, sitting up a little straighter. "Is there any other special date coming up that might work for asking her on a date, maybe? Just in case the dance or get-together idea doesn't work out."

[very_sharpe]

"I suppose that American independence day is coming up," he says. "That's a month from now, isn't it?" That seems far away, but at least it would give Thomas time to work up to it.

"Perhaps just a picnic, how that the weather is being more cooperative?" That could be nice, right? It sounded like a good idea, anyway.

[puckandpie]

"Oh, yes, that sounds lovely!" I tell him, grinning wider. It's hard not to think about the picnic Jack had arranged for me on the beach for my birthday. It occurs to me that I could have Sharpie to talk to Jack for romantic ideas, though I'm not sure how he'd take that.

"And, if you want, you can tell me what Edith might like and I can throw some things together to eat. Not just baked goods, either. But maybe a pasta salad and sandwich fixings and lemonade. Something like that."

[very_sharpe]

"Things that would be good for a summer picnic... to be honest I've never had one," he admits with a laugh. It seems ridiculous, but really, he hadn't ever planned something like that. Lucille had, on occasion, but that was different.

"Lighter foods, with-- with something citrus flavored for dessert, I think. I'm a pitiful cook so far, I'm still learning. I'd pay for whatever you might need."

[puckandpie]

"Never?" I reply, wincing just a little when I realize how rude my surprise likely sounds. He's from a different world than mine, a different culture. There's no reason to assume that summer picnics could in any way be normal for him.

"Well, we'll just have to fix that, I suppose. And I can make you anything you'd like! Would you prefer a pie or cookies for your dessert? And, if you'd like, we can do the cooking together? Or we can set aside an afternoon sometime and cook up a bunch of things and you can decide afterward which of those you'd like to try on your own for the picnic with Edith."

[very_sharpe]

Thomas laughs, though. "Lucille saw no charm in them. And Cumberland, at least the part where we lived, wasn't all that pleasant any time of year. They certainly seemed appealing, though. When we were in America we took sun on the green. Lucille was always there, though."

He makes a slight face. He tries to push away the specter of his sister's memory.

"Something easy for a picnic. Your pies are lovely, but I'd worry about it getting hurt, or having trouble cutting and serving it."

Thomas brightens a bit. "Would you show me how to make some of the things you do?" He isn't sure he'll ever be much of a baker, but if Bitty wouldn't mind cooking with him, eh'd rather enjoy it.

[puckandpie]

He has a good point as far as the pie; those are never particularly great for picnics. Cookies or scones should be good though. Oooh, or maybe lemon bars!

I brighten a little as he keeps talking, nodding. "I'd love to!" I tell him before taking another sip of my tea. "I'll warn you though - I'm not a particularly great cook. I'm much better at baking. But I'll absolutely show you a few tricks I've picked up from watching Derek. And I promise your picnic will have no weird, murderous sisters in attendance."

I'm dying to ask him more about that, if I'm honest. But it still feels a little presumptuous.

[very_sharpe]

"I'm not particular good at either," he says with a wry smile. "I don't think I've ever baked anything. Cooking... I've figured out enough to feed myself."

His face warms, just briefly, at the mention of murderous sisters. Then he notices the look on Eric's face and his expression softens.

"Ask if you'd like... the worst I'll do is tell you I don't want to talk about something."

[puckandpie]

"We'll start off with something easy then," I promise him. "It's really not so hard so long as you know how to follow directions. Cooking is a lot more lenient and experimental, but there's a lot of science in baking so you have to be a little more careful."

Something in his expression shifts then, unreadable for a second and then... quieter. He's caught me wondering, I know, and I frown down at my hands, guilty for a second before peering up at him again.

"Why was she so angry?" I finally manage, cringing a little. "Even if she just didn't like Edith, her actions seem a little excessive to say the least."

[very_sharpe]

"We had a difficult childhood... we only had each other to depend on. Our parents were cruel. I think it made her cruel, too. And she was rather--" He hesitates a moment, thinking of how to word it. "Possessive of me."

[puckandpie]

From what he's told me about his father already, it's not hard to see the cruelty. I can't imagine how awful it would've been for both of them if their mother was just as bad.

Sharpie at least seems to have turned out okay apart from the murderous sister and the... the being dead thing.

I'd be nervous about this all being some ruse, some story to scare me except I don't know why he'd do such a thing. Especially if he actually wants my help like he seems to. Nervously, I bite at my lip, watching him a little more carefully. "She thought Edith would take you away? Is that it?"