The small smile wasn't lost on Zinnia, not in the slightest. She returned it was a smile of her own though hers was certainly a bit bigger.

"Maybe they need to see you though," she answered softly, wide eyes focused on him and still showing just how concerned she was for him, "And.. it may be better for you than you think. I know I can't really speak from experience but.. I know I'd want to see one of my loved ones before I was gone if I could."

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Fab Bee Set!

He knew she was right. They likely did need to see him and it more than likely would be better for him to see his family. His father. But the thought of it… it made him feel sick with anxiety.

“Maybe… It’s just… It’s hard,” Thomas hesitated. He was struggling to find the words – but what words could he say? It was obvious how he was feeling and what was happening. He didn’t feel there was anything he could say to help him feel better.

In a moment of weakness and without thinking of the practicality of it, Thomas opened his mouth, “What if you came with me? It would be nice to have company when I… when I see him.”

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Zinnia nodded silently. She could only imagine how hard it must be for him. She'd never experienced anything like it herself though so she couldn't truly understand what it was he was going for. She could only assume it was awful. Her eyes widened, however, when he asked if maybe she could go with him. She blushed a bit as she heard her sister clear her throat in the process.

"Well.." she started, not really sure how to respond, "I suppose I could do that. I, uh, I'm not sure how best to go about it though. Perhaps if you came to get me along with your sister?" That should help with propriety's sake surely. Or so, she hoped.

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Fab Bee Set!

Thomas smiled faintly at her words. She was being… sensible, he supposed. But he also wanted to make sure he had someone there as… as something. Not a shoulder to cry on. Men didn’t cry. No. It was more for support. Someone who wasn’t too close to him who he could turn to when he needed perspective and she… Miss Zinnia Potts. She seemed like the right person for that.

“I gue- no, actually. Don’t worry,” Thomas sighed, “It’s silly. I barely know you and you, me. I just…” Thomas sighed again. He felt lost in this moment. It was as if he’d been thrown into a maze with no light and no way out. Perhaps he had been thrown into a hole, then.
“I don’t know, Miss Potts. Sorry. I shouldn’t be acting like this. I’m sure proprietary dictates we not do this. Society gossip would run rampant, too.” He tried to joke though couldn’t muster the heart to let out anything more than a half-hearted smile.

Life sucked.

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Zinnia dared to reach out and pat his arm again though left her hand to linger just a few moments longer than the time before. While he was right, they barely knew each other, she still didn't like seeing him in such a state. He'd been friendly and she'd actually quite enjoyed his company the day he'd come into the family shop. But.. she wasn't about to push something on him he wasn't sure of.

In regards to propriety and gossip, she simply shrugged. "Most in society think me and even my family to be a bit odd," she said honestly, no amount of anger or frustration evident in her tone, "Besides, it isn't as if I'm wholly unchaperoned right now." She nodded in the direction of her sister who was still close enough for the whole situation to be quite respectable. Amaryllis even peeked over her book and smiled at them to indicate she was there and listen at least enough to be able to step in when or if she was needed. "And if it would be easier, should you still like me to come, I'm sure she could accompany me to your home as well," she added, feeling much better as her sister gave a silent nod before she added, "And she's a healer."

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Fab Bee Set!

The sensation of Zinnia’s hand lingering against the cloth on his arm was something reminiscent of the touch a mother would give her pained son; a touch that spoke volumes even though no words came from her lips. A touch that told the chaser everything was going to be okay; that she was there for him. It was a touch that allowed time to stand still for but a breath and his eyes met with hers properly. For the briefest of moments, Thomas Tilcott could see what was happening. It didn’t matter if his idea was one born of impulse and stupidity. It did not matter that it would be strange for her to accompany him to see his dying father.

In the brief moment their eyes locked before his gaze drifted to the table, arm pulling from her gentle touch, Thomas had decided he did not care what people thought – even moreso as she spoke. There was a sense of calm around her and it was that calm that he felt he needed right now.

He listened to her speak and nodded though it was evident by the way he recoiled at her words that he wasn’t sure he wanted to follow along with the idea that they visit right now even if something inside of him agreed wholly with her.

He was at a loss for words. His eyes turned back to hers with a distant, almost vacant, smile and he nodded quickly. The bottom of his lip was quivering slightly. He didn’t want to go. He knew he didn’t. But… he couldn’t say no right now. He had to see his father eventually and if he had the support of Zinnia when he did, sooner would be better than later…

“Did you want to go now?” He asked quietly, eyes turning to examine the wooden table once more.

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Zinnia fell silent easily enough. She was often prone up bouts of silence as she thought about her next painting so it wasn't exactly unfamiliar to her. And, as she sat silently across from Mr. Tilcott, she was well aware he needed some time to think on things. She would gladly give him the time and silence to ponder. It was, after all, a big thing to consider.

She returned a smile of her own, though hers was far more genuine and sincere where his was empty and vacant. She couldn't blame him. "If you'd like to," she answered easily enough as she looked to her sister who gave a small nod to indicate she was amiable up the idea as well.

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Fab Bee Set!

Where his voice found no words, Zinnia’s words seemed to find a voice for them both. The way she spoke was sincere and caring as if they were lifelong friends despite only knowing each other very briefly. And it was in that fact, Thomas felt, that he took comfort. She had no attachment to him. No way to judge him. He had no predisposition to act a certain way around her. It made him vulnerable; exposed and when the world feels like it is caving in on itself and the rubble is burying you, it was good to be exposed lest you suffocated.

Her words were the oxygen he needed. Managing a soft smile, Thomas nodded.

It was time, he supposed, to face the inevitable.

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[FIN]

  

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