Ah, well. I suppose we’ll soon see.
He flinches at my loud salutation and looks a little puzzled. Actually, he looks mildly affronted that I’d have the nerve to greet him, but wait, no, I’m giving him the benefit of the doubt. That might just be his face’s normal expression, poor man.
“Hallo, how are you?” I walk right up to him and smile like we’re friends.
“Er…yes, fine, thank you, ah, Leona.”
“Liaden. But that’s OK, it’s an unusual name to have to remember,” I dimple at him, though my teeth clench.Benefit. Of. The. Doubt. The way he comes across could also be explained by social anxiety as much as self-importance.
“Yes,” he replies, and doesn’t say anything further.
OK, let’s try again. “I met your lovely girlfriend the other day.” His eyes widen, and he casts a worried look at the Vice Chancellor, David. I’ve met him a couple of times, and he’s a good egg, if full of his own importance. But I imagine it’s easy for a man in his position to be like that. And he doesn’t strike me as the sort to disapprove of small talk about our lives outside of the office, so I’m not sure why Peter looks like a deer in headlights. “Sadie’s ever such a nice woman. I’ve been gettinga tattoo done on my back by Dean - you know Dean, I’m sure? Isn’t he endearing? He’s doing an exemplary - ”
“Mustyou speak so loudly?” His eyes are hard as he interrupts me, and although his voice is quiet, it’s soaked in genuine annoyance.
I narrow my eyes. “I beg your pardon?” I say, not amending the volume of my voice at all.
“Some of us don’t like our personal business shouted across the cafeteria where wework,” he snaps, looking back at the VC again. David is paying us no mind, so I cannot understand why he finds this so unseemly. This is a massive overreaction, and I’m irritated by being unable to understand why. Before I can reply, he starts again. “This is an academic institution in working hours. Keep this kind of banal nonsense for more appropriate times.” And with that, he walks away, making a beeline for David and engaging him in intent conversation, pointedly ignoring me.
So much for the benefit of the doubt.
Twat.
Sadie
“I fucking love Fireball!”Leo crows as he obliterates the zombies we’ve been battling all evening with one devastating spell. Granted, all of our Dungeons and Dragons characters pitched in, and my Rogue did a decent amount of damage with her rapier, but once again Leo finished the fight.
I roll my eyes at Emily, who laughs as she starts to gather the table map up. “We’ll call it there, I think.”
To my surprise, I’ve really come to enjoy our fortnightly Dungeons and Dragons night. Seeing how happy it makes Em makes it worth taking part just for that, but she always makes it fun. As does Leo in his leather armour over his t-shirt, and Eli with the adoring way he looks at my homegirl, and Dean with his dark humour. That he called his WizardTellerstill makes me laugh.
Though, I must say, he’s not his usual self tonight. We’ve all been exchanging concerned looks, because this seems like more than his usual tired pallor. He’s scowling, and he’s barely looked up from his dice all evening. There’s a muscle jumping in his jaw, and he’s been drumming his fingers on the table off and on. He isn’t responding to our banter, and I’ve caught him eyeing the liquor cabinet a couple of times.
Eli’s worried, I can tell. He keeps trying to catch Dean’s eye, but he’s not playing ball.
I love and adore Dean, and feel as protective of him as his cousins do. If there’s something wrong, I want to know about it and try to help.
“Y’alright, bud?” I ask him, collecting everyone’s character sheets. I don’t see the point in beating about the bush.
His eyes snap to me, and they seem darker than normal. Angry. He muffles it, and gives a terse nod. It makes me feel a little cold. Angry Dean is rarely seen, and therefore quite unnerving.
“Wanna talk about it?” Leo asks, his voice gentle as cotton. For such a goofball, Leo knows how and when to tread softly.
No, I don’t. He means it. There’s a warning emanating from his eyes: ‘do NOT push me’. His eyes travel once again to the lined up bottles of booze.
“You promised your mom you wouldn’t.” Eli’s voice is quiet, but firm. Nothing is going to push Dean back into the depths of hell again if he can help it, least of all Dean himself.
There’s a stare-off between them, Eli meeting his cousin’s gaze evenly while Dean’s eyes rage at him, finally dissolving into frustrated annoyance as he looks away.I wasn’t going to. Leave me alone.
Em fidgets, like she’s unsure what to do with herself. Tension always makes her a little uncomfortable, though she’s doing a lot better lately. I glance at the cigarette burn scar on her face. It's faded significantly, but it's not all the way gone. I often tell her it's her badge of courage.
“If you don’t tell us what’s up, we can’t help.” Eli looks after Dean, and makes every reasonable allowance, but I know he doesn’t tolerate any shit.
Maybe I don’t want your help. Maybe there isn’t any way for you to help. Maybe you should just butt out. Leo translates for me and Em, as we’re still intermediate in sign language. Dean gives him an irritated glare.Asshole.“Hey!” Leo protests.
“Maybe you shouldn’t take your bad mood out on us,” Eli responds softly. “We want to help. And maybe we can’t. But Leo is not an asshole for caring. None of us are.”
The silence stretches out, and because Dean’s face is so expressive, you can see his anger melt into indignation, and then shame, and then regret.I’m sorry. I just… I’m not in a good headspace. I should probably go. He starts to stand up.
