entrancelogs | I'm trying not to sleep

Entry tags:

I'm trying not to sleep

Who: Clara & anyone! (totally open)
Where: Around the mansion
When: The week after the shadow event
Rating: TBA
Summary: When you have a terrible shadow event, it's time to stay busy to forget about it
The Story: Clara is beyond humiliated.

She's lost a great deal of her pride, she's fractured almost every single relationship she's formed in her time here, and she's at a loss as to what she needs to do to make herself feel better. So the best solution in her mind is simply not to think about it and stay busy. She can't act like any of the things her shadow said never happened, of course, but she doesn't have to linger on it. There's too much hurt there for her, and it's best to just build up some walls on the inside and close it off and away. And sleep? Forget about it, there's way too much time to have thoughts loiter on everything that went wrong, or have pesky dreams slip in, and that's definitely not something she wants to have happen.

On Tuesday, she has plans with both Luke and Owen, and despite not being up to her usual spirited nature she's grateful for the chance to interact with the both of them without shadows present.

On Wednesday, she thinks she has self-defense lessons but also spends a good portion of the day sprawled out in the sun at the beach. She's not usually a beach dweller and she doesn't usually sunbathe, but she thinks it's the perfect place to read through some Jules Verne. Journey to the Center of the Earth was a childhood favorite, and it makes her feel safe and nostalgic so she's grateful that the library has a copy on hand just waiting for her.

On Thursday, she spends her time out in the gardens, working on both drawing and painting. Her lessons with Whale have left her eager to continue practicing, working on a drawing of white roses which she has every intention of painting red by the end of the day. If someone happens across her, she's more than likely to grab hold of them and convince them to pose for her so she can attempt a more complicated subject.

Friday finds Clara holed up in the library, a stack of books on space piled up around her. She's sitting cross legged on the floor, and the pile of books towers above her, constantly wobbling as if they're about to topple at any given second. There's fiction, non-fiction, and even some picture books at her side. She started the day out reading for research but now has an old, worn copy of The Little Prince in hand. It brings back memories of her mother, and those are always good to hold onto when she's having a difficult time.

The rest of the weekend is spent either at the swimming pool or her room. The pool she's never really used before, so it's nice to just float around and stare up at nothing in particular. It's a funny feeling, just aimlessly floating, doing nothing for hours on end. She almost feels guilty for it, but it's a nice break from being cooped up in the library. When she's in her room she's working on painting her walls, trying to complete constellations for the night sky she's painted across every single wall. She's not much of an artist, but this has given her something to do in her time here, and the project is almost complete. There's even a little TARDIS painted right up above her bed.

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To say that Clara is mortified by the interruption is putting it mildly. She's wide eyed at first, and feels a blush settling in across her whole body. But no, she's not doing anything that she should be ashamed of, so she meets Athos' smug smile with a merry little smirk, and a gentle poke to D'Artagnan's side to remind him to play nice and not say anything that might humiliate either of them.

"I've got this weird feeling that no matter what we say, it's going to be a tryst when you tell the story." A pause, and she glances up at D'Artagnan, ever so slowly turning her gaze back onto the other man. This is now an entirely sticky situation, in that looking Athos in the face ever again is going to be difficult. But she manages just fine for now, looking a mixture of awkwardly composed as she smiles innocently up in the direction of their interruption.

"Please tell me you won't. Mention this." The last thing she needs after a particularly horrible event is to live in awkward embarrassment around the mansion for a while.

Edited 2013-06-21 18:30 (UTC)

Hey, kids, it isn't as though Athos came out of his mother's womb jaded and bitter. He was young once.

It was years ago, of course, and things are different in the Renaissance - lords' sons were allowed to run amok in the woods with impressionable ladies. Rolls in the hay were not infrequent, but times have changed a bit.

"I keep secrets, Mademoiselle Clara, I do not share them," he replies nonchalantly. "Perhaps next time the both of you ought to ensure your surroundings are devoid of unwary witnesses."

No one's there telling them they aren't allowed to run amok in the woods. They're both grown, and this place isn't like the real world, no matter which real world that happens to be. D'Artagnan knows that much. But, since it's a rather touchy situation all-around, and kissing Clara in the middle of the woods wasn't the best idea to begin with, he'll keep this whole thing to himself. Except whenever Athos brings it up, of course. (And D'Artagnan's expecting he will. Frequently.)

He can't say that he believes Athos to be a gossip monger, or to break a promise to keep a secret, though so he's not entirely worried. But still. He glances at Clara, gives her side a reassuring squeeze and then looks back to Athos.

"She's just making sure," D'Artagnan says, raising an eyebrow at him. "And perhaps next time we will. But we appreciate your understanding."

She gives out a sigh of relief at the fact Athos is a wonderful secret keeper, but there's a distinct pout on her face at his suggestion, nose wrinkling up and everything.

"It was a luck of the moment sort of thing, really. Didn't have much time for checking our surroundings." She keeps the sulk out of her tone, and chooses to use a playful lilt instead, something that keeps hidden just how her heart is pounding in her chest. Of course, D'Artagnan can probably feel it with the fact they're still standing close together, which only makes it race even more. She's good at playing it cool, though. Cool and...slightly pouty.

"Thank you though, Athos." And now that slight bit of sulking is gone, replaced with a bright smile of gratitude. "Assuming there is a next time, " She glances up at D'Artagnan, completely playful while sounding entirely serious, "We'll attempt to be more careful."

...oh, he'd be careful with that one, D'Artagnan. That's a tone of voice that is trying very hard to drip honey, and might very well be succeeding. Regardless, the younger musketeer's sass is wholly unappreciated, especially since he was the one caught in flagrante delicto.

"See that you do."

Athos gives the two of them a funny look, but he's French, so he gets it.

"Enjoy the rest of your afternoon."

Heh.

"We will," D'Artagnan says, giving Athos a nod and tugging Clara away, farther into the trees where it will, hopefully, be less populated. He's really not worried about Athos telling anyone but Aramis, but he also isn't excited about the prospect of discussing this later with either of them. He hasn't figured it out himself yet, and Aramis, at the very least, will want to speak to him about it. But perhaps Athos won't tell him... One can only hope, really.

But D'Artagnan stops thinking about both of his musketeer friends, because he has a gorgeous young woman literally in his hands, and he can't waste this opportunity. Who knows when it'll come up again? Who knows if she'll even want to continue now. Crap.

He gets them far enough in that the tree line disappears and stops, hands moving to her face to cup it. He's already made his move, Clara. It's your turn.

Clara holds her laughter until after they're far enough away from Athos that she can release it without worrying about offending him. It's short lived laughter, however, as D'Artagnan's hands are all too quickly on her face, and she's left staring up at him with a quirked brow and a lopsided grin. Her hand reaches up to press against one of his, her cheek leaning into his touch. But that's all the affection she grants him in the moment, and she takes tighter hold of the hand that hers is pressed against, and leads him further into the trees.

She stops not all that far away, enough where she feels truly safe from anyone's eyes that might be watching. And as it would be a terrible crime to disappoint, she pulls him in closer and closer as she shuffles backward, only stopping when she bumps into a tree. "Don't think we'll bother anyone here." She shrugs, explaining her need to move at all, and uses her hold on him to drag him in close enough that she doesn't have to rise on her tiptoes to kiss him. Which she does, quite thoroughly.

D'Artagnan allows himself to be pulled with her, all the way until she hits the tree and tugs him down. He must be blessed today, because this is just too lucky. Too lucky. He's waiting for it all to come crashing down around their feet, actually.

Though he supposes it already did, in the form of Athos, so perhaps they're in the clear.

He gives into her pulling, bends to her will and leans down the necessary amount to kiss her back, one hand at the back of her neck and the other on her hip.

Oh, things are definitely going to crash down around them at some point. But for now, Clara is surprisingly living in the moment, just enjoying herself and her present company. After the weekend they both had, she wants nothing more than to put it behind them. Of course, that doesn't decrease the complexity of the situation she's found herself in, but that's not exactly on her mind as she presses up against him, entirely lost in the moment.

Each kiss she thinks might be the last, she decides against it and gives him a series of more, alternating slow and lingering with something much more fleeting and teasing. When she finally decides that air is a vital necessity, she doesn't let him get away, and instead brings a hand up to his hair, fingers curling to hold him in place so she can rest her forehead up against his. Her breathing's beyond heavy at this point, and she's sure she probably looks a disheveled mess, but it's not really that pressing of a concern for the moment.

D'Artagnan's fairly certain this will be the death of him. The kissing, the possible duel he'll have with Owen to be able to keep kissing her, or just whatever this is that they're doing in general. He's never been so unsure about anything in his whole life, and as a person who's made many decisions (both good and bad, but probably more bad than good), it's a little unnerving.

But he meets each kiss with one of his own, and gives as good as he gets, because once he's made a choice, well, he's not one to change his mind. When she breaks for air he's thankful she doesn't go too far, and slides a hand up and down her back in a smooth movement. It may take him a moment to recover, bear with us, please.

Her eyes slide shut and she focuses on breathing, on the here and the now, and not the nagging thoughts in the back of her mind that are telling her she's now definitely in over her head. She wonders if perhaps she's kissed him senseless, given his reaction, and she can't help but softly chuckle. It fills the silence between them, and while it's not meant to tease it definitely is amused.

"You okay?" It's a valid question, even if it's murmured after a laugh, she wants to make sure she wasn't too eager or did anything wrong.

He huffs out a laugh at the question, and it seems to knock him out of his stupor. Their moment is over and that's fine, it really is. It was certainly worth it. He clears his throat and takes the hand that's in his hair out of it, holding it instead so he can straighten. And get a real breath.

"Yes, I think I'm just fine," he says, voice just slightly lower than usual. He clears his throat again. Embarrassing. At least no one's around to hear it.

"Though I don't suppose that's the best way to solve a problem, it's certainly more enjoyable than fighting."

And with that last line, the problem at hand is most certainly at the front of her mind. It causes her to tense up and frown, eyes going wide as she realizes just what exactly she's done. He's right, this doesn't help anything at all. No, it's not arguing, but things are now more muddled and complicated.

"Definitely enjoyable." She agrees, turning her hand so their fingers can intertwine.

"I've been wanting that to happen for a while now." It's a soft admission, one she's placing out in the open because he deserves to hear it.

He hadn't meant to make her tense up. The comment was mostly a joke, but he supposes it wasn't a very funny one. He accepts the twining easily, his thumb running up and down the side of her index finger, briefly. D'Artagnan raises an eyebrow at her admission, and brings their hands to her chin, tipping it up.

"You're not the only one," he says, pretending that he hasn't just been flooded with an intense sense of relief. He knows all it means for sure is that she wanted it to happen, and that he still doesn't know if it'll happen again, but still. It's hopeful. He's hopeful.

"There were a few times where I almost did it...before this. But I didn't find the timing to be ...appropriate." Not that it was very appropriate now, but, now or never, right? Right. Whatever.

"Dunno if it was appropriate just now." Especially not with Athos right nearby, able to see and hear everything. But she understands why it happened, and is grateful it did, despite the fact she's got quite a bit weighing heavy on her mind.

"What sort of timing were you waiting for, exactly?" Both eyebrows arch as she looks up at him, almost confused as she tries to figure it out on her own. She knows there've been plenty of times where this could've happened but didn't, leading her to believe he wasn't necessarily interested.

"Yes, I'm not sure of that either." He looks sheepish enough about it, really. And he didn't know Athos was there! He doesn't know the man's schedule, for Christ's sake. He shrugs at the question.

"I'm not sure. I suppose a time when I was at least more than a little bit sure that you wouldn't slap me in the face?" Though he wasn't all that sure it wouldn't happen this time around either.

"But now, I don't know, it's not as if I have much to lose by doing it now, right?" But that's a lie and he knows it is. He had everything to lose with her, and still does. He could have, conceivably, been friends with her if the nature of their relationship had never changed, but now he's not sure. He'll try, no matter what happens, though. There's always that to count on.

"I don't know that I'd go that far." In the moment, the risks weren't weighed as she normally would have. But now that said moment is over, she doesn't regret it. There's always that, at least. But they both still have plenty to lose, and she bites at her lower lip to keep from vocalizing the thought.

"Also. When a girl is laying in your bed and staring over at you, begging you to take her out riding? She probably won't slap you in the face if you attempt to kiss her." She laughs, because she thinks that it was obvious, something that stuck out like a big chin. But she supposes that her behavior can be a bit mystifying at times, so she doesn't hold it against him for any longer than about thirty seconds.

It's nice to hear that she feels at least somewhat the same, at least that's what he gets from what she's said. He hopes he's not reading too far into it. He seems to be doing that a lot lately. Though perhaps not so much today...

He scoffs and looks away, embarrassed, but she doesn't need to know that. He remembers that moment well. He'd been ready to kiss her then too, but it seemed too inappropriate, even for him. "I was attempting to maintain some sense of propriety," he says, grinning at her. He runs a thumb over her knuckles, and brings her hand to his mouth to kiss them.

Why can't they just stay in the woods forever again? It seems like a good enough plan right now.

"I suppose I can't fault you for that."

There's a stretch of silence after, in which she wants to make him think she's actually put out by his doing so and she does entirely fault him, but the facade quickly crumbles into a coy smile. It's entirely amusing to her how he can act so confident and sure of himself and everything he's doing up until this moment, and now he's reduced to embarrassment and uncertainty. It's quite endearing, enough so that she brings their hands up to rest over her heart, so he can really get a feel for the effect he has on her. Her chest is still pounding, heart racing.

"Propriety's thrown out the window now, though?"

"Well, we are in the middle of the woods," he says, laughing gently. He can feel her heartbeat under their hands, and it's racing, it's been racing, just as his has since he kissed her. The silence doesn't bother him much, because he's gotten pretty good at being able to tell when she's teasing, and he's still in a bit of a daze, so there's that.

"Hard to be properly proper outdoors." He shrugs and gives her hand a squeeze. "Though I do expect we'll have to return sometime."

She sighs in disappointment at that, because she knows it and was thinking it herself, but she doesn't want to head back yet. "We can now, if you'd like." She offers, offering him a bright smile to counter that sigh.

"Or, we could just walk. No having to worry about being properly proper, or heading back inside. Just us, outdoors."

"A walk is what we came out for originally," he says with a nod, carefully not mentioning how that plan was foiled. But still, the day is young, and it's pleasant and there's not an awful event for once, so a walk would be nice.

"Should we go farther into the woods or back the other direction?"

"That depends. Do you think there's anything out there that might find us?" People or things that go grr and have fangs or anything of the sort are included in that question. She hasn't been out here that often, but people have told her there are things lurking, that it's not safe. So she's a bit skeptical of moving further inside. But she trusts D'Artagnan to protect the both of them, so perhaps she's just worrying for the sake of worrying.

He raise an eyebrow and makes a sort of contemplative face into the woods. He's certainly never met anything in the woods, but he's never been in very deep either. He's heard stories of people getting lost in there and losing a life. He doesn't want that to happen to him. Or her. Or the both of them.

He's not one to find romance in mutual death.

"I'm not sure, though I do know it's possible to go too far in and not find your way out, which isn't desirable either. We could travel in this general area?"

"General area sounds brilliant." It's an easy decision, and she pulls away from him entirely so she can take the lead. She flashes him a grin over her shoulder, laughing in amusement as she waits for him to follow before getting too far ahead. When he follows, she takes him by the hand once again, and drags him off to spend the rest of the afternoon getting quite purposefully lost among the trees.

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I'm trying not to sleep

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