Araceli Residence
July 25xx
9:12 AM
As they grew older, feelings of sibling-related affection eventually grew towards blooming into something else. Both of them felt it and felt awkward; Amaris was more aware of her affections and wanted to shut away more, while Arryn wasn’t quite sure what it was and how to deal with it.
They developed when they were sixteen, seventeen. Touches lingered a little more, didn’t feel as playful as they did when they were kids. Amaris found her eyes moving his way when he would walk into the Araceli dining room in a light shirt and rumpled hair. Arryn’s mouth would dry slightly whenever Amaris would let her hair down.
Even their attempted sparring was affected. When they were younger, they would teasingly go at each other the way their parents did whenever they had the chance to watch. However, as older teenagers, Arryn would try his best not to hit too hard or to bruise her too much. Amaris, in return, would avoid any lethal areas and aim more for his arms, maybe his shoulders if she felt brave.
And when they would finish up, they would exchange a ‘thank you for the spar’ and dart off to either parent for patching up. James found it concerning when Arryn and Amaris used to treat each other’s wounds all the time. Carina merely accepted it in stride, fussing over her children equally.
But even with that, it still felt odd.
It felt like there was a wall in the way, blocking them from getting to know each other even more as something beyond adopted siblings. Amaris knew what the wall was and edged around it, but Arryn remained clueless.
Amaris would watch and witness Arryn’s dating cycle at school; the girls never really lasted. Hell, they were the ones who locked their arms on him most of the time, and being the gentleman (albeit confused one) that he was, he let them.
Despite the stirring feeling of jealousy that swelled in her stomach, she also noticed that he wasn’t quite as invested as she thought he would be.
It got weirder at home over the summers. They would both be home this time, sometimes in their own rooms, sometimes outside. James would pick up Arryn and they would spar in the garden; Amaris would watch from her bedroom window. Carina tended to the girl, quietly honing her daughter’s magic from inside the house.
It felt normal, seemed normal. But the wall was there, ever-present, and Amaris was more and more aware of it.
Somehow, Arryn had managed to grow aware, too.
Most, if not all, of the girls in school recognized that he was a smooth-talking flirt when he could be. It was like a switch: he would turn on the charm and pay attention to the girls when they were there. Amaris knew; some of her old high school friends told her once that her brother “was one of the flirtiest fuckers out there”.
That made Amaris more averse of him. A lot had separated them ever since The Incident when they were both thirteen. Their parents had tried to get them to bond more since then and they tried to, at least, but seeing him as the Resident Flirt made her more wary of him and his motives.
…at least, until one day during the summer.
Both of them were eighteen at that point, still in different rooms and their relationship a little strained as it had been. Arryn was comfortable knocking on her door to talk, but never enough to the point of him barging in and ranting.
(She somehow wished they were at that level.)
But there they were, Amaris painting outside and Arryn having just come back from his run. She had just blended two colors to produce a bright teal when his heavy footsteps came from behind as well as the sound of a bottle being opened.
“Run okay?” Arryn gave a small grunt in response and drank first before answering her. “I told you it was too hot to run.”
“It’s a good challenge,” a beat, “but it kicked my ass.” she gestured towards the spare seat beside her; he hesitated but sat down anyway, maintaining distance. “What about you?”
“Hmm?”
“You’ve been here all morning, Amaris. I think I left the house and you were still here.” he glanced at her painting and then at her; there was a smidgen of paint on her cheek and he reached out without thinking to wipe it away.
Once his fingers made contact with her cheek, she froze. Her eyes turned towards him and he felt himself stop as well, locking eyes with her for a moment before hesitantly (and clumsily) wiping the spot of blue away. “You, uh,” he stammered, “Your cheek. Your…paint is on your cheek and I don’t think you noticed,” he managed before tearing his hand away and keeping it away as far as possible from her.
Amaris blinked before nodding silently and turning back to the canvas to paint. Fucking idiot, Arryn groaned mentally. While locked in his own misery, Amaris chose to simply ignore and to merely keep painting to push her distracted feelings away.
“I wanted to paint the sky,” she explained, more to herself and more so that she wouldn’t feel as conflicted. “And the garden, maybe. You know how papa’s proud of the flowerbeds. I’m sure he’d like it if I showed it to him.”
“…I think so too.”
“But,” Amaris continued, biting her lip, “that means that I’d have to finish this asap before he sees it. Fuck,” the brunette groaned. “Is he still here?”
“I think pa’s still upstairs. There’s no one in the kitchen or in the living room when I passed by,” he answered, slowly gaining confidence to talk properly once again. “It might be his and ma’s day off. So they might be still asleep.”
“That’s good, at least.” Amaris sighed. “I just—need to finish this as soon as possible.”
Arryn was not necessarily the best at artistic pursuits, but he wanted to help her out anyway. So at least, the intention was good in his head.
What came out of his mouth, though, was not.
“If you want,” he started slowly, “I can help.”
“You can help…?”
Before he could even stop himself, “I can go ahead and paint your canvas, if you’d like.”
And, silence.
It took her five seconds until the words clicked and just as she did, Arryn was already standing up and backing away, face redder than she had seen it and to think he had just done his usual thirty-minute run just five minutes ago. “I—I mean I can paint your canvas as in paint it with all the colors of the palette and shit, yeah, I meant that! Totally not in a way that’s offensive or anything, I wouldn’t want you to think that,” he babbled, face burning as the seconds passed.
Amaris could only stare, mouth a little open. Eventually Arryn covered his face with the water bottle and muttered a quick “fuck, sorry” before rushing back into the house, almost running into the glass doors as he did. Leaving her in the garden, he quickly ran up the stairs and into his room, doing his best not to look anyone in the eye.
James had just come out of the bedroom and blinked at the sight of Arryn’s red face, gold eyes looking down, down, down. “Arryn?”
“I’m gonna go shower, Amaris is downstairs,” he managed before closing the door and locking it from his side. James could only blink, staring at the door for a good few seconds before shaking his head and confirming that he needed the blackest of coffees to fully function.
Back downstairs, Amaris buried her face into her hands and exhaled, the palette discarded and the painting seemingly forgotten at that point as well. “Oh my God,” she got out, eventually melting into her seat and trying very much not to think of the way his face was red and his hands were almost at the point of shaking.
A complete opposite to the calm and collected Arryn she witnessed at school.
At that point, she was definitely sure that the lines had blurred even more from then on.
No comments:
Post a Comment