#bergen_county

"Soul twin. Shared heart." A soft chuff at an idea "Other half? Better half, arguably. Right and Left."

He smiles, squeezing the hand he still holds.

In a very sluagh way, the politeness somewhat stilted coming from Symon, he awkwardly says, "I would like to court you." As though he is some 18th century gentleman.

Oh, now she's purple.

A frustrated noise. "I need to be better at this. I..."

"I don't need you to be better. You're you."

"And, uh, if it makes you uncomfortable.." He says, "...then I guess.. I won't?"

"It's.. no."

Her breath hitches.

"I... I like this." She squeezes his hand. "I just.. it... god, I'm so fucking stupid."

"Hey." He rasps, holding her hand. "That's my soulmate you're insulting there." Chiding tone.

A laugh, but there's still worry there. "How dumb is it to want something and be afraid of it? Some big strong knight I am."

She huffs. "That's been the big problem the whole time, right? Me being scared."

"Well, we're here now. Together. So I guess... we can work it out. Just like any other problem we ever faced."

"Just... just... what if you do, and realize I'm not..."

"You're not what? You don't have to be anything. You're... you're..." He trails off, and then completes, "You're you. And if you can accept me, with all of my... everything, then how could I do any less? We're not perfect. But we... fit?"

"I'm messed up, and kinda broken, and not... not really, like, flowers and jewelry and chocolates..."

He shakes his head. "You're not..." He stops before saying the forbidden name. "We can do this our own way."

She takes a steadying breath. "I love you. I know that part. I know it's true. And I was afraid to say it, and that... denying that, hiding that... hurt."

"Yeah." He agrees, softly. "Enough that I thought the only way to keep our friendship was to hire someone to... help me redirect that part, so we only had 'friend' left."

"...Hire?"

He winces a bit. "I... we made an arrangement. She would use her cantrips, and I would pay her, in like.. presents, and dinner, and stuff..."

Flummoxed.

"...Oh."

"I don't know if I would have ever been able to quit, though. I think... by this point, I was putty in her hands." Another wince. He whispers, "Stupid of me, right?"

"I was so mad at her. I thought... I thought she had preyed on you, took advantage of you." She chews on her lower lip.

"I really, really, really wanted to hit her in her smug little face."

A guilty huff. "Not stupid. Hurt."

"You can DO dumb stuff when hurting, without being stupid. C'mon, look at my track record."

"She's going to be pissed about the treasure." He whispers, gumming at his lip. "I'll take care of it. I can find a way to pay her back or in like kind."

"...it's weird. It feels weird. This morning, she was all I could think of, and now..." His nose wrinkles a bit in distaste. "I can't imagine what I was thinking."

"That Art is dangerous."

"I broke it. I chose to."

"Sylvi was working on a whole plan, trying to figure out how to get it off of you..."

She scrubs her face. "I was mostly hung up on how I didn't have a right to be mad or jealous."

"You always have a right to feel however you want. What's important is how you act on it. And in this... thank you." He says, earnestly. "I may have asked to get into that predicament... but I don't think I could have gotten out again."

He goes a greyish pale, perhaps thinking of wedding bells, Mrs. Cairrean Lee...

"Yeah, well, if you haven't saved me from stupid shit I've gotten myself into." A pause. "Can I hit her?"

He seems to seriously consider this. With reluctance, "Probably shouldn't. As is, I'll need to ewxplain to her why I can't return her Treasure. We have.. I think 10 days, before she's back from her Bahama cruise?" And he winces at this again, muttering, "Not cheap."

Symon may have been pleased as punch to offer it to Cairrean, his Girlfriend, but to Cairrean, his ex-business partner, he obviously begrudges the cost. He has that calculating look on this face now that Dagmar has seen him use when doing complex math problems, and he doesn't seem pleased with the answer.

"You spent a lot of money. But I broke the treasure." A small frown, and she touches her temple briefly. "Probably gonna have to tell the trio, that, too. But, like, if she... she was hired, not... we shouldn't have to worry about her trying to reclaim you?"

"You're safe?"

"It was supposed to be a contract based on semesters, and renewed through the Rutgers term on demand. So.... I think... I'm good. Except for the return of the treasure."

He notices, and reaches up to brush a spidery hand across her temple. "Did you get hurt? It gave me a whallop, but.. not sure if that was the breaking of the treasure, or the breaking of the cantrip."

"Not hurt. Just... feel weird."

She contemplates. "Kinda... high? Almost? And cold. Both."

He rubs her temple softly with the pad of his thumb. "That'll be the backlash. I... I should have just talked to you. Or you could have asked me... maybe I'd have just... taken it off." He shrugs. "Hindsight is 20 20 though, right? Maybe I wouldn't have. It's hazy now. And... unpleasant. ...what am I wearing?"

Realizing that some of his discomfort is due to the quite smart looking button up tailored shirt. He tugs at the collar with a grimace.

"Yeah, well, I'm not known for being the smart one. I hit things with the big axe. And you are in makeover clothes. She... " A frown, anger smoldering in her eyes. "Did not like how you dressed. Or looked."

He plucks at the tailored cuffs with distaste. But then a sidelong glance to Dagmar. "Do you like it? I guess it's more... 'snappy.'"

Grunt.

"Do you?"

"N, it's... stiff, and stuffy. I feel like a tool."

"So, yeah, nah. Please tell me she didn't have you pitch all your old t-shirts."

"They're probably in storage. All musty and dusty, Anne Marie promised not to mess with the stuff in the crawl space." Mmmm, musty.