Post by Simon and Cyrus Ettinger on Oct 22, 2019 13:58:49 GMT -5
He asks after you often. You aren’t obligated to reach out to him; I know how overwhelming it is, but if you can manage, I’m sure he would appreciate the company. Tell me what you want, and I’ll arrange the details.
Simon had woken to that particular missive on a Post-It note beside three others informing him of the more mundane aspects of Cyrus’s time in command of their shared body and their split lives. One was a reminder about their upcoming staff meeting with the offer to handle it for him with the caveat that their telepathic headmaster would certainly notice the subterfuge within seconds of walking through the door. The promise of fresh baked goods on the counter from the night before.
Everything Cyrus could do to bring a smile to Simon’s lips no matter how difficult that outcome was to achieve these days, where if he managed, the expression faltered after only one or two precious seconds.
One might consider his willingness to meet James paying back a favor to his twin, but that oversimplified the nature of their relationship or the complexities of his motivations.
Simon liked James well enough. That he typically avoided any social interaction with the slightly younger man had less to do with his opinions about his personality or the exhaustion of his rampant anxiety than Simon’s own limitations. His well, already shallow, ebbed a bit with each passing day, and he found it so much easier to retreat into himself, emerging only for the requisite tasks of teaching or the bureaucratic obligations to maintain his position.
Make an effort his parents always nagged him during his increasingly shorter and less frequent visits home, incapable of shouldering the weight of their expectations while preventing himself from tipping over. Oh, his effort was rendered invisible for how little progress he demonstrated to the outside world, but how he tried.
And he would try again. Pumpkin carving was low-key and private, allowing them to focus on the task at hand should conversation falter.
Meeting in James’s apartment provided two unique benefits lacking in Simon’s: first, the presence of a cat - soothing despite her finicky personality and utter disdain for being trapped in a small space. Second, the ability to excuse himself should be become too overwhelmed; social tact allowed for a guest to vacate more easily than a host asking someone to leave abruptly. To thank him for that courtesy, Simon had arrived with pumpkins and the carving kits purchased at the local grocery store , sliding one towards James as soon as he had seated himself at the table.
Conversation didn’t flow as freely between them as with Cyrus present to take the lion’s share, but still Simon tried. His gaze was focused intently on the top of his pumpkin as he sawed through the flesh. “Do you…have Halloween plans?”
The holiday fell on a Thursday this year, hardly the right day to party all night. Not that he expected James to answer that way if it was a Friday or a Saturday, either.
Simon had woken to that particular missive on a Post-It note beside three others informing him of the more mundane aspects of Cyrus’s time in command of their shared body and their split lives. One was a reminder about their upcoming staff meeting with the offer to handle it for him with the caveat that their telepathic headmaster would certainly notice the subterfuge within seconds of walking through the door. The promise of fresh baked goods on the counter from the night before.
Everything Cyrus could do to bring a smile to Simon’s lips no matter how difficult that outcome was to achieve these days, where if he managed, the expression faltered after only one or two precious seconds.
One might consider his willingness to meet James paying back a favor to his twin, but that oversimplified the nature of their relationship or the complexities of his motivations.
Simon liked James well enough. That he typically avoided any social interaction with the slightly younger man had less to do with his opinions about his personality or the exhaustion of his rampant anxiety than Simon’s own limitations. His well, already shallow, ebbed a bit with each passing day, and he found it so much easier to retreat into himself, emerging only for the requisite tasks of teaching or the bureaucratic obligations to maintain his position.
Make an effort his parents always nagged him during his increasingly shorter and less frequent visits home, incapable of shouldering the weight of their expectations while preventing himself from tipping over. Oh, his effort was rendered invisible for how little progress he demonstrated to the outside world, but how he tried.
And he would try again. Pumpkin carving was low-key and private, allowing them to focus on the task at hand should conversation falter.
Meeting in James’s apartment provided two unique benefits lacking in Simon’s: first, the presence of a cat - soothing despite her finicky personality and utter disdain for being trapped in a small space. Second, the ability to excuse himself should be become too overwhelmed; social tact allowed for a guest to vacate more easily than a host asking someone to leave abruptly. To thank him for that courtesy, Simon had arrived with pumpkins and the carving kits purchased at the local grocery store , sliding one towards James as soon as he had seated himself at the table.
Conversation didn’t flow as freely between them as with Cyrus present to take the lion’s share, but still Simon tried. His gaze was focused intently on the top of his pumpkin as he sawed through the flesh. “Do you…have Halloween plans?”
The holiday fell on a Thursday this year, hardly the right day to party all night. Not that he expected James to answer that way if it was a Friday or a Saturday, either.
