[ Flynn sucks in a sharp breath, his wing fluttering under Yuri's fingers, leaning into the touch entirely without his permission. This has to stop, doesn't it?
He has to figure out some way to be normal, because that's what they both wanted to do, and if he can't even keep his word to Yuri of all people, then what good is he? He's going to drive Yuri away all over again, acting like this. So, then, what next? Be normal. He nods a bit to himself.
The smile he pushes onto his own face isn't exactly fake, but it's a little strained. ]
It's possible they'd just leave me like that. They seem to enjoy that kind of thingâit was a spirit who sold me these chairs. Perhaps she just didn't realize?
[ It's so damn weird. Yuri hates that smile, and looks away from him, feeling decidedly unwelcome here. Maybe he shouldn't have come-- but then Flynn would still be trapped in that chair.
It's like this: one day, they have the best time, they hang out together and laugh and talk, and the next, there's this tension that Yuri can't shake. He doesn't like it, he doesn't know what to do with it ]
Maybe. I guess they're all with the fox... or made by her? I don't know. Hate to think they're just here to fuck with us.
[ Flynn made this weird and he is going to make it not weird again, damn it. He sucks in another breath through his nose, steels himself, and turns properly to face Yuri, flour-smeared and stiff. ]
Well, I suppose itâs moot because you did help. You didnât have to stop cooking to come over, though.
Hey, I came over. It's fine, you don't have to [ what, Yuri? He doesn't have to what? ] do that.
[ It's all so weird, and he reached up to rub at the flour again ]
It's fine. I was done. [ At least, the cakes were out of the oven. They have to cool anyways, and the spirits seem very lenient about what constitutes a shift ] What were you studying?
[ Wait. Flynn pauses. Looks at that smear of flour, looks at Yuriâs averted gaze and his stiff shoulders. Back to the flour.
Slowly, Flynnâs brain kicks into gear. ]
Yuri, where were you baking?
[ He hasnât seen much of Yuriâs house but heâd made Yuri show him the progress on the window and then the inside of his house, the other day, and it had been⊠small. ]
You do smell pretty good, but maybe when theyâre finished.
[ Naturally Flynn realizes only after saying this that itâs weird to notice how Yuri smells-like vanilla and spices-but he powers onward with his cheeks hot. ]
Yeah, real kind, 'cause they get to sell what I make.
[ He rolls his eyes and drops back against the wall again. At least his tail isn't quite as annoying as Flynn's wings. It doesn't make sitting easy, but at least its smaller, and there's only one. That's easier to think about than anything else right now ]
[ Actually, now that he thinks about it, Yuri may have mentioned it on that strange ragged morning after the carnival, while Flynn was trying to gather up the edge of his thoughts and put them into something like order. He'd forgotten all about that. Time had moved so strangely that day.
Well. He won't be so careless again. With a huff, Flynn crosses the room to grab for his keys. ]
You'd make a pretty good baker. That cake you sent me the other dayâwas that yours?
Yeah. [ Why is his face hot? It was just a cake. But... he was pretty proud of it. He can't help but think that if Flynn was a familiar, he would be a cute dog ] Been working on... decorating stuff.
Uh, I dunno. Picked it up. [ As usual, he's great at learning by watching, and watched the spirits doing it. He's worked there for over a month now, so he's picked up a thing or two ] It's not a big deal.
[ Flynn insists quietly. He remembers the first time Yuri made something like that, fried dough dusted in sugar and little flowers, what an impression it had made. Yuri's always been like that: a little more impressive than he lets on, a little more concerned with how things turn out than he'd like everyone to believe.
It's one of Flynn's favorite things about him. That care runs deep, through everything he does. ]
I'll walk back to the shop with you, if you'd like to finish them.
You don't have to do that. [ He says it automatically, like he didn't just run here when Flynn said he was in trouble. He should probably go back, the cakes should be at least mostly cool now.
He pushes off the wall to head to the door, waving at Flynn as he goes, even if some part of him wants to stay, that part is dangerous ]
[ Flynn should probably spend more time alone. He should probably think about this unstoppable impulse to stick to Yuri's side, should probably not just follow him around or try to make him stay, but that same urgent need to not let him just walk away bubbles up and Flynn doesn't fight it.
Instead, he falls into step with Yuri, letting his key dangle idly from one finger. ]
[ Yuri should probably do something about this, but he can't ignore how he feels better with Flynn by his side. More settled, steadier, and if Flynn wants to come, well, it's a free world. Probably. ]
There's this used furniture place in town. It has some good stuff. [ Not that he has any space for it in his treehouse, but you know. A guy can dream ]
Gram. I haven't really checked out the other ones... [ Which he probably should. It's weird how quickly he fell back into old habits, just hanging out around the place he showed up ] Who cares what the spirits on the train think? C'mon, Flynn.
[ Some kind of what, Flynn? Is it stupid to worry about what random spirits on the train think about his actions? He's spent so long under scrutiny, with everything up for debateâthe tone of his voice, his posture, his food choicesâit feels strange to think that they really might not care.
But...
As they walk out the door and Flynn locks it behind himself, it settles in. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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He has to figure out some way to be normal, because that's what they both wanted to do, and if he can't even keep his word to Yuri of all people, then what good is he? He's going to drive Yuri away all over again, acting like this. So, then, what next? Be normal. He nods a bit to himself.
The smile he pushes onto his own face isn't exactly fake, but it's a little strained. ]
It's possible they'd just leave me like that. They seem to enjoy that kind of thingâit was a spirit who sold me these chairs. Perhaps she just didn't realize?
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It's like this: one day, they have the best time, they hang out together and laugh and talk, and the next, there's this tension that Yuri can't shake. He doesn't like it, he doesn't know what to do with it ]
Maybe. I guess they're all with the fox... or made by her? I don't know. Hate to think they're just here to fuck with us.
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Well, I suppose itâs moot because you did help. You didnât have to stop cooking to come over, though.
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[ It's all so weird, and he reached up to rub at the flour again ]
It's fine. I was done. [ At least, the cakes were out of the oven. They have to cool anyways, and the spirits seem very lenient about what constitutes a shift ] What were you studying?
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[ Wait. Flynn pauses. Looks at that smear of flour, looks at Yuriâs averted gaze and his stiff shoulders. Back to the flour.
Slowly, Flynnâs brain kicks into gear. ]
Yuri, where were you baking?
[ He hasnât seen much of Yuriâs house but heâd made Yuri show him the progress on the window and then the inside of his house, the other day, and it had been⊠small. ]
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[ Naturally Flynn realizes only after saying this that itâs weird to notice how Yuri smells-like vanilla and spices-but he powers onward with his cheeks hot. ]
But, no, I meantâdo you have an oven?
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Yeah, uh. No, I don't. I was baking at the tea shop.
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It's kind of them to let you use their oven.
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[ He rolls his eyes and drops back against the wall again. At least his tail isn't quite as annoying as Flynn's wings. It doesn't make sitting easy, but at least its smaller, and there's only one. That's easier to think about than anything else right now ]
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Opens his mouth.
Closes it again, and tilts his head while the implications of Yuri's words processes. ]
So.... you're working for them?
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How long have you been doing that? If I'd known you were working, I wouldn't have bothered you so much about classes!
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[ Actually, now that he thinks about it, Yuri may have mentioned it on that strange ragged morning after the carnival, while Flynn was trying to gather up the edge of his thoughts and put them into something like order. He'd forgotten all about that. Time had moved so strangely that day.
Well. He won't be so careless again. With a huff, Flynn crosses the room to grab for his keys. ]
You'd make a pretty good baker. That cake you sent me the other dayâwas that yours?
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It was really good! Where did you learn to decorate like that?
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[ Flynn insists quietly. He remembers the first time Yuri made something like that, fried dough dusted in sugar and little flowers, what an impression it had made. Yuri's always been like that: a little more impressive than he lets on, a little more concerned with how things turn out than he'd like everyone to believe.
It's one of Flynn's favorite things about him. That care runs deep, through everything he does. ]
I'll walk back to the shop with you, if you'd like to finish them.
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He pushes off the wall to head to the door, waving at Flynn as he goes, even if some part of him wants to stay, that part is dangerous ]
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[ Flynn should probably spend more time alone. He should probably think about this unstoppable impulse to stick to Yuri's side, should probably not just follow him around or try to make him stay, but that same urgent need to not let him just walk away bubbles up and Flynn doesn't fight it.
Instead, he falls into step with Yuri, letting his key dangle idly from one finger. ]
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There's this used furniture place in town. It has some good stuff. [ Not that he has any space for it in his treehouse, but you know. A guy can dream ]
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Which town? There are a lot of towns around here, and I'm not sure we won't get weird looks for carrying a bunch of stools on the train.
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[ Some kind of what, Flynn? Is it stupid to worry about what random spirits on the train think about his actions? He's spent so long under scrutiny, with everything up for debateâthe tone of his voice, his posture, his food choicesâit feels strange to think that they really might not care.
But...
As they walk out the door and Flynn locks it behind himself, it settles in. ]
Maybe you're right.