Smoke Signals Private Closed

@Catriona Staverly

Gem couldn't necessarily pin down all of the things he thought were wrong about himself. He tried to avoid thinking about it, but it never really worked. He'd often come up with fictional conflicts and try and solve them in his head, or maybe find out how all the people around him would come up with a solution. You never truly knew what someone was thinking, and as much as that bugged him, it really was true, unfortunately.

One of his biggest flaws had to be how easy it was for him to isolate. He hadn't been talking to much of anyone, and all of his intimacy and thoughts were going into his typewriter, clicking away at unholy hours of the night until someone threw a pillow at him and croaked about how annoying he was, that he should get to bed. He never really did, he just laid flat on his back and came up with more things to type up when he was able to get to it. He never did remember what they were, the very next morning.

However, as weeks had swept by him, he felt a very empty feeling in his chest and at the pit of his stomach like he was missing a body part - or, the same feeling you get when you know you've forgotten something, you just can't remember what. Except, the real difference was, he knew exactly what he was missing. Somehow, it was worse.

In class, he'd exchange glances at Catriona, even if they were seated a bit far from each other. It wasn't like how it used to be, when they'd look at each other and have silent staring contests and then burst into an inexplainable laughter. This was more like a guilty, impulsive staring contest, and Gem always looked away when he got even the vaguest impression she'd turn her head because she felt eyes on her. Eventually, he stopped looking at her altogether because it made him feel like a terrible friend for not even attempting to talk to her, tell her what was wrong. It felt natural, to just look down whenever she passed him in the hall. Except it didn't feel very natural at all.

He'd caved eventually, using that typewriter for some good and sent her off an owl to meet up with him on the grounds because the weather was going to be beautiful. On his way there, he felt like he was headed to a first date. Nervous, mind racing, palms clammy, he pulled on his fingers and his hair, roughing it up so he wouldn't attempt it again. He failed, twirling the piece of locks between his index, pinching it with his thumb.

When he stopped, finally, he looked around and noted there were very few people. What was more weird had to be the fact that wasn't there before him - to call her punctual would be offensive, she always managed to be places far before he was. It added to her charm, and being able to see her small figure from a distance really did bring a smile to his face, even if he didn't really realize it before. Now that he was there first, or so he thought, he felt very lonely. He dug into his pocket, pulling a cigarette from the package, setting it between his lips. Just as he flicked the lighter on, he heard rustling in a tree nearby. He frowned, dragging his feet towards the tree that had spoken, looking up at it--

Oh. There she was.
Aside from looking straight up and seeing some things he shouldn't have, he felt very pleased that she was there and quickly stuffed his cancer stick and lighter back into his pocket. He could feel himself smiling.

"Aye! Whadd'a hell are ya doin' up there, laa?!" He shouted, his eyes big and curious, enthusiastic. He could feel his heart swelling up seeing her face again. He swore his hands twitched a bit, just out of delight. Maybe this was dramatic to think about now, but he loved her. He really did, and he didn't care how.

@Gem Stuart

You know the feeling of stretching out in a warm patch of sunlight, watching clouds pass over your head lazily? That feeling of gentle euphoria, the kind you don't notice while it's creeping up on you? It felt like familiarity, like the kind of moment you could capture in a polaroid. Like honeyed, golden sunlight streaming in a library window. That's how Catriona felt watching Gem walk towards the tree she was perched in. It was the feeling she missed, when Gem wasn't there. The comfort of being with someone she thought understood her.

It was the exact opposite of how everyone described love. Wasn't liking someone supposed to feel unfamiliar and scary and nerve wracking? Comfortable wasn't how Catriona would describe Elizabeth and Darcy or any of the other couples in the books she read. Maybe this meant Charlotte was wrong. She very much hoped Charlotte was wrong. If she wasn't well... Catriona would just have to deal with it.

If "dealing with it" was a class, Catriona would have an O. No, scratch that, she would be the professor. Sometimes it felt like Catriona was just dealing with everything, passing through life like Freddie when she went shopping, piling more problems on top of problems as she checked out in the express lane pretending everything was fine. It wasn't though. Not always. But being with her friends (or more specifically, Gem) made things feel so much lighter. Like she didn't have millions of thoughts eating at her mind constantly.

She sounded dramatic, but it was true. Sometimes she just wanted to forget about everything she was worrying about and do something spontaneous. Something like sneaking out of bed impulsively. On second thought, that didn't seem like a great idea. Probably better not to do something spontaneous then.

Catriona watched as Gem stopped near where she was. She grinned, wondering how long it would take him to notice her. The grin slid off her face as she noticed what he withdrew from his robes. She nearly fell out of the tree, making the leaves rustle and shake. Gem looked up, noticing the sound and Catriona found herself smiling in spite of herself.

"I got a bit..." Catriona trailed off looking for the right word. "Caught up in my thoughts while I was waiting for you. Needed a distraction." Catriona tried to muster up enough anger to look mad, but she probably just ended up looking mildly irritated (or "like an angry cat" as Freddie told her once, though that was probably more for the benefit of the pun than an actual identifier). "Were you going to smoke right then? Because I will remove them from you person and burn them as soon as possible."

She shifted, trying to get down from where she was seated. Unfortunately, she looked down at the last moment and thought better of jumping down. Maybe it was best to stay up here for a while. Take in the view. Bookmark murdering Gem as a task for later. "As soon as I figure out how to get down from this tree, I am burning them. I will, I swear." She ruined the illusion a bit by looking down at Gem again and smiling automatically. Curse him and his stupid smiling face. It was too distracting to be angry at.

@Catriona Staverly

Gem felt like a kid who'd just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Except the cookies were long and thin, tasted nothing like cookies, and ruined your lungs. The cool thing was, though, that these cookies relaxed you and also looked cool to carry around. Still, he knew he was in deep shite when she'd given him that face, a forced irritation that he knew wasn't actual irritation because she was and she was too happy to see him to be actually angry that he was destroying his body at age twelve.

Still, he smiled sheepishly and scratched his arm.

"No..." He trailed off, looking around, then back up at her with that same stupid smile of his. He saw her smiling, too. "I'll come up there, if ya want." It was a meager attempt to turn the subject around to something else. He didn't even wait for an answer, he just gripped the first branch and wobbled around, his sneakers slipping on bark, his palms stinging whenever a particularly sharp branch poked him, but after about two minutes of struggle and a lot of cussing and self-motivation, he was propped up on that branch right next to her, looking winded, but very pleased with himself. He exhaled, slapping his knees with a small nod.

"Fancy seein' you up here." He reached over, poking her thigh playfully. Normally, it would've been a shove but he was a little too nervous to even think about doing any pushing up on a branch this high. If she fell, he'd probably die. Looking down, he realized it was going to be a very tedious trip down. They were pretty high up, but maybe they were fit enough to not die when they tried to make an adventure down. Maybe he'd throw himself off and lay down and let her use him as a cushion so she wouldn't break anything.

@Gem Stuart

Catriona tried very hard not to smile, she really did, but it still spread over her her lips unbidden as she watched Gem clambering up next to her. "Well, at least we're stuck up here together now," she murmured to herself, surveying the ground below her. She found herself giggling at Gem's prodding, her anger at his bad habits momentarily forgotten. "It truly is a surprise to see you again, Mr. Stuart," she said, imitating the posh air with which her mother normally spoke. "Oh but it is a tragedy, you see. If we fall, we will surely die." She put a playful emphasis on the word, hoping Gem would realize she was joking.

She hadn't realized how much she missed him before. She'd known it, of course, but the feeling of loss was just as easily displaced and push down as any other feeling was. It was only now, as she sat watching the sunlight filter through Gem's hair that she realized how much she truly missed his company, from his teasing to his observations.

She hadn't noticed it before, but there was something different about Gem now. Not bad different, just different. His cheeks were more hollow now, and his jaw was more defined, like he'd lost some of the baby fat that previously clung to his face. All at once, Catriona found herself feeling nervous, like seeing him look so different had blown her off course and now her normal was off-kilter. It was weirdly discombobulating, like noticing coming home after a long trip only to realize your things are just slightly out of place. Not that it was bad. Catriona wasn't an idiot and she wasn't blind, she could tell that Gem was physically attractive (not that he hadn't been before, it was just more obvious now that the layers were gone). Somehow knowing this made her nervous and she didn't know why which just made her more nervous and the whole thing was just dizzying and she couldn't figure out what to say.

"You look different," is what she ended up deciding on. "It's... good. You look good," she said, deciding it was true just as the words left her mouth. "Your hair's gotten longer," she said, reaching out to tug on a bit of it. "I wonder if it's long enough to braid..." And just like that, the dizzying feeling faded. Gem was still Gem, attractive or not, and there wasn't much that could change that. She loved him, not because of this or despite it. She just did and that was that.

@Catriona Staverly

"Oh, Goodness! Surely there shall be another way ta get down from 'is horrid mess we've gotten ourselves into!" Gem gasped, heightening his voice so he sounded like an old woman from London, covering up his mouth with an open hand. "We must call my husband! He'll know what ta do! B-but... he joost never answers anymore!" He turned his head dramatically, eyes big with feign fear, crossing his hands over his heart. "Lady Staverly, I must confess.... I've been in love wiv you this whole time!" He leaned back, draping the back of his hand over his shoulder, pretending he was going to fall off the branch until he caught himself with a little huff of fear.

He was a bit too busy snickering at his own God awful acting to really notice that 's gaze had been lingering a second longer than usual, only fully processing it when he snuck a glance at her from out the corner of his eye.

"You look different. It's... good. You look good,"

That's what sort of sealed the deal for him - it had caught his attention enough for him to want to ask her what had changed because he wanted to hear it from her, but she really only mentioned his hair. The thought of pressing the question further left him quick, and he readjusted so he was laying sideways on the branch, both legs dangling off either side, keeping his back straight against it. He laid his head in her lap, spreading his hair out so it was to her full access.

"Why don't ya find out, then?" He mused, "A lil' birdy told me you've got very nimble fingers." No one had ever said that to him, ever. He'd just like to watch her hands when she was writing or when she turned the pages of books, sliding her fingers across the edge of the pages so gently she wouldn't have gotten a paper cut. That was crazy to him. He liked it, though, really. He liked to watch her face while she read silently a little bit more, she usually had this little grin on her face like she'd never lost a war. That was the best part of listening to her ramble on, or debating her, or just speaking to her - her expressions. That had to have been his favorite.

Still, she seemed a bit shyer for some reason, and while he felt like he knew why, he thought it rude to assume and pretended that wasn't at all the case. He was very bad at that, since he kept thinking about it, but he could pretend he didn't care. To himself.