Forums » General Roleplay » Profs and Pretties (1x1)

Anna was stirring slightly when he came back with the pillow, and when he went to put it under her head her eyes would flicker open, gazing up at him sleepily. She smiled softly, reaching towards his face with her hand...and then she realized her hand was half-covered in paint. Her sleepy haze shattered, Anna blinked a couple times, then gasped and sat up, probably while he was still leaning over her so quite potentially knocking heads with him. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to fall asleep...!" Sure, they weren't in class, but she felt extra bad for falling asleep at his house! "How long have I been out? What time is it? I'm so sorry, I'm like the worst student and guest ever." And she had almost, very almost, had smeared paint all over his face while she was half-asleep.

Very suddenly, her hand and face were very near his. And as she began to sleepily panic, he grabbed her hand without thinking and placed another on her shoulder, keeping her from actually headbutting him or getting up too quickly.

"Hey, it's okay," he consoled. "I don't think you've been out long at all. Ten minutes tops." Realizing his hand still gripped hers, and was now sticky with paint, he released it and kneeled next to her.

"You might check your phone, but if you're that tired...there is a bed across the hall. The door locks if that makes you feel safer." He realized how that sounded but proceeded to make it sound worse. "Not that...I mean I'm not a creeper, I just...ah screw it. Just be okay, okay? You can clean up later."

Anna suddenly found her hand in his. ....with wet, sticky paint now on his hand as well. "...no, I'm okay. I just...needed a powernap, that's all." She looked at her phone and sighed. "Im really not in the mood to deal with them.." she looked at him for a few moments, then looked away. "...I'm sorry. Your hand has paint on it..." She stood and went to wash her hands and the brushes, then came back. Her phone screen was lighting up with another call. Anna pushed it away. "...Sebastian? Tomorrow is Saturday. Can...can I stay here tonight? I know it sounds weird and creepy and that I might seem immature, but..." she looked away, trying to hold back tears. "I just can't go home tonight."

He wasn't sure why, but seeing her standing there - covered in paint, with shadows under eyes threatening to spill over with tears - was a sight he couldn't handle being politely distant over. He embraced her with a hug and before she could object he answered with, "of course you can stay." If she didn't pull away, he'd hold her until she did.

"And you are none of those things. I happen to think you're brilliant." He smiled as they sat there, covered in paint and utterly exhausted.

(Going to bed after this post just so you know. I will respond to any other posts in the morning!)

Anna hadn't been expecting a hug. And when it happened, she couldn't hold the tears back any longer. She quietly started to cry, clinging to him as he held her. "Thank you..." was all she managed to say. She felt so weak and pathetic and childish, but she couldn't hold it in any longer. When she had cried enough, she pulled back and wiped her eyes. "Sorry..."

Paint smeared her cheek as he wiped away a tear. "Don't apologize," he insisted, "the world has been harsh today. Go rest." He picked up the coffee tray from earlier and left the room, glancing back to make sure she was still okay before leaving it in the kitchen. He was tired too, he realized, and set off to have another nap.

It had been years since he'd held a crying woman in his arms, and he fell asleep feeling lighter in his chest than before, though still concerned. Clearly she deserved more kindness in her life, and he'd apparently decided he would try to keep her smiling. As such, she would wake to the smells of toaster waffles and bacon, and be greeted with a glass of orange juice.

Anna nodded slightly, the spot where he touched her cheek feeling warm. "..thank you." She made sure all her paint was cleaned up and her supplies were collected together in an orderly fashion, then she went to bed. She tried to get as much paint off her person as possible before climbing under the covers, and as soon as her head hit the pillow she was out like a light. It was so nice not to have yelling all around her for once.
When she woke, her stomach was grumbling loudly, and she couldn't decide why until she realized some of the smells that she found in the air. She got to her feet, checked herself over to make sure she was decent (as decent as a person who'd slept in her clothes could seem), and then went to the source of the food.

When she entered the kitchen he greeted her with a smile and, "good morning, Picasso." He gestured to the table where a plate awaited her, sitting next to an array of toppings; from butter and syrup to various fruits and a can of whipped cream. Once he had poured himself some tea he joined her, piling his plate with four of the waffles and spreading butter between the layers.

"Sorry they're not homemade or anything. Didn't want to risk serving something awful. How'd you sleep?" Internally he wondered what she might have told her parents, if anything, but was glad to see her looking alive.

Anna blushed as he called her 'Picasso'. She went to the table and sat down, staring at all the food. How long had it been since someone had cooked food for her without trying to win her favor in a game of tug-of-war? "Oh, no it's fine. It looks delicious, really." She put some toppings and started eating, waiting until she had an empty mouth to answer. "..I slept amazing, honestly. I really do appreciate you letting me stay the night, Sebastian. I know it was kind of weird and last minute and stuff." She paused for a few moments, then sighed. "I guess I should probably tell you why, too."

After a few more bites, she set down her fork and knife. "..My parents only got married because my mom was pregnant with me. So there's always been a lack of commitment there. I was 'the accident', right?" Her stomach felt like a brick for a moment just saying it. She kept going, though. "So, they argue all the time. They just don't get along. They yell and bicker and fight, and I'm always right in the middle of it. I used to just go hide somewhere, obviously I still do. But I try to get them to stop now too. But when I try to interject..." She hesitated, not wanting to tell about getting slapped or anything. "It just doesn't end well. And then I'm the focus of attention and I feel like the rope in a game of tug-of-war because they want me to love them best over the other, and it's like this thing to them where whoever is left with the rope is the 'winner', the best parent or something. Recently the word 'divorce' has been popping up...And then they go on this whole thing of 'well of course you'll want to come stay with ME until you can get your own place, right Anna?' 'No, Anna wants to stay with ME, I'M her father, she loves me the most!' and all that sorts of stuff."
She grimaced a little bit and poked at her food with her fork. "...It's like some sort of trap. Like I said, school is their idea, not mine. They keep me fulltime so that I can't get a job, and if I can't get a job then I can't get out of the house and on my own. It's like they need me so that they can prove that they are the better parent."

He nodded and gulped down some OJ to try to clear his throat.

"I'm truly sorry you're going through that, but I'm glad to give you a safe place to land. As a matter of fact...just let me know whenever you need an out. I wish..." It was his turn to shuffle things around his plate. "I wish I could help change them, but that's not how things work unfortunately." He went ahead and stuffed another bite in his face.

"The one thing they've done right is you though." He kind of pointed toward her with his fork, cheeks stuffed with waffle.

Anna listened to him and sighed. "Yeah...I know that's not how it works. Trust me." She kept eating, looking at him as he said that she was the one thing they did right. "...you're the only one who thinks that, then." She sighed and stabbed a piece of waffle with her fork. "Sometimes when the arguments get really bad, dad blames mom for having me, mom blames dad for coaxing her into doing it without protection, and they both say that it's all each other's fault that they had to get married because of a baby." She was quiet for a long moment, eating a piece of waffle.

"...I once heard dad telling mom that she should've got an abortion." she said quietly. "..I just don't understand it. How can they want a person so much, but not want them at all at the same time?..." She was loved and hated all at once. Her parents wanted to fight for her affection to prove they were better than the other, but yet they thought she was the source of their problems because she'd been born and forced them into marriage.

He sat back in his chair, filing his anger away for the unfortunate day he might ever meet her parents.

"Even when a couple has done everything to prepare themselves for a child, parenthood holds surprises and unexpected obstacles. Not everyone handles them well. With people like your parents...they not only lacked the courage and creativity to make their own choices, but the integrity to take responsibility for the decisions they have made.

"I'd be willing to bet they were taught wrong on a few things and rebelled against what little right they knew. And since they were immature when they got married, difficult circumstances led to a breakdown of communication, instead of a strengthening. But that too was their choice. They could have, with a little foresight and understanding, reminded each other that even unexpectedly terrifying children are blessings, tiny people who deserve peace and stability like anyone else. Not that I've ever even been married though...

"Adulthood seems to be about going beyond accepting the consequences of your actions to try and predict their ripple effect. Young parents can hardly ever do that, and even the wisest monk won't be able to see everything. None of this is your fault, nor should it be your problem. But how you choose to endure and let it effect you...that will make or break you, Anna. You can tear yourself down just like everyone else has been doing, but eventually you'll have to rebuild if you don't want them to take over.

"It's stupid. We really only copulate on the off chance that the result will bring hope to an otherwise desolate or lonely life, never once pausing to think we might be rolling over debts and burdens our descendants will never have hope of shouldering. Only to wonder later on why we ever did the deed in the first place.

"...kids aren't objects; something to be owned, flaunted and passed to the highest bidder. Certainly not to be fought for in utero only to be disregarded in life...although...had they not, this breakfast would likely be spent alone and bored as ever, still pining over a dead adulterous girl.

"Life's funny like that...sometimes what brings you the most pain and confusion will teach you the most important aspects of yourself as you handle it."

He finished his breakfast rather quietly after that. He wanted to encourage her that divorce could be a good thing, once they both found other people and moved on...but he couldn't promise that, and they'd probably just ruin it by dashing that hope too.

Anna listened to his long speech, having heard some of it before. She sighed a little and just ate her food, but the more he talked, the more she was surprised. Especially after he mentioning their breakfast and how he would have usually spent it. She looked up at him, considering him carefully for a few long moments. "...yeah. I guess so. I know for sure that I don't want to be like them, so that's really helped shape who I am. I'm not going to use people like they do." But she had already used him a little bit, hadn't she? "And I'm not going to make the mistakes they did. I've never dated anyone yet." She sighed. "All I see are immature idiots with raging hormones. I guess my parents have made it obvious to my eyes what stupidity can look like when it comes to relationships. If he's more interested in my lips than what I'm saying, it's a definite no."

She finished her breakfast and stared down at her empty plate. "I wish I could just be on my own already. It's a hellhouse over there. Maybe my absence will at least change something." But it would probably result in more yelling. She stood up, going to put her dirty dishes away. "..thanks for letting me stay, Sebastian."

He simply nodded, having said nearly those exact words about his own parents and heard it from countless others. All he said was, "love makes us all crazy in one way or another. And like I said...anytime." He tidied up the table and put dishes in the sink before turning to her again.

"So what are your plans for today?"

Anna sighed. "Maybe that's why I don't like it. 'Crazy love' in the bad way is the only kind I've ever had. I know it's not the only kind out there, but I'm not really wanting to risk more bad crazy love." She was quiet for a few moments, looking at the table. "...can't deny it gets lonely though. So yeah, breakfast was...nice."

At his question, she sighed again and rubbed her neck. "Go home, get the huge lecture or whatever they want to do to me, and then do my homework. Didn't really get much done, with the whole painting thing and all..." She had a lot more to do, and painting wasn't helping at all.

"That it was," he nodded, "maybe you can catch up on schoolwork next time. Do you have a ride?" He felt reluctant to let her leave, but wanted to avoid being awkwardly forward, settling into his usual gruff demeanor over the inner struggle. He couldn't just go about asking a student of his for extended visits, not mid semester at the very least. And if he wanted her to feel safe here, he couldn't go pressing his loneliness into her life; he'd have to let her paintings live here, get to know her better, before he could think of asking her to stay...

Anna nodded. "Yeah...I'll have to focus now since I'm so used to doing homework because I have nothing else to do." She looked at him for a moment. "...if you could give me a ride again, that'd be cool. Drop me off a block down like last time, please." She would catch hell if they knew she stayed overnight at a man's house. The fact that it was her teacher would just make it ten times worse.

"Thanks, Sebastian. I really do appreciate everything you do for me." She smiled softly at him.

His shoulders raised in a half-hearted shrug," I probably wouldn't be able to live with myself if...something happened, and it were my fault." He offered to help with her things and held the door of the car for her, driving her to where she asked. He wondered that he could find himself caring for the well being of another once more, and so swiftly.

"Take care," he said as he pulled up to the curb.

Anna brought her things out to the car and got in, letting her mind wander as he drove. Mainly she was trying to figure out what she could do to keep from getting in trouble with her parents. When he pulled up to the curb, she got out and got her things. "Thanks. See you at school." It still felt kind of awkward. Should she really be spending time with her teacher like this? Should she be WANTING to spend time with her teacher like this? She gave a slight smile, then walked down the sidewalk. Her parents would be mad, but she'd tell them it had been with one of her girl friends.

It was suddenly much more difficult to watch her leave. Not heart wrenching per-say, but there was something there that he had previously done well to smother with his bitterness. He made sure to pull away before her parents might notice anything, feeling like a teenager sneaking around. It shamed him a bit as he thought, this is kid stuff; truly the new tenderness was a nice change of pace to his life, but what could he possibly be to her other than a teacher? The whole drive home, he fought with himself and inevitably sunk into a broody mood. By the time he walked into his home, he was too frustrated and tired to notice he hadn't locked the door behind him, nor did he bother removing his shoes or setting an alarm.

Face down in his pillow, his sleep was wracked dreams tormented by the ghostly faces of his lingering guilt, intermingled with a confusing yet alluring fog.