"Not much time?" Bella echoed incredulously. "For emotions?" She stared at him strangely, like she was trying to figure him out with some drunken logic. "You sure seem to have anger under your belt. I mean—" She went silent suddenly and lowered her gaze, placing both hands on Frideswide's back.

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Jamie shrugged at her response. "Emotions change little in the grand scheme of things," he said but couldn't help but to chuckle when she brought up anger. He supposed it did come off that way but it was rarely serious. Most MacFustys were just bluster when it rally came down to it.

"Look, I don't know your story," he started, having taken note of how she often looked down or awaywhen she thought he might yell and drawn his own assumptions as to the why, "I don't need to, nor do I really want to. But you're safe among us. Even if we do yell and beat our chests like cavemen." He hadn't done that yet but he wasn't a fan of overly serious conversations.

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Yay Bree Set!

Bella could only roll her eyes; emotions were at the core of humanity itself, so Jamie's comment was either a deflection or a sign of ignorance. (He seemed to know a lot, but not about people, so she wasn't sure.)

"I know you look down on me. I know you think I'm silly," she sighed after a moment. "I know you probably think I'm scared. But... I'm not—not for my safety," she reassured.

Jamie was enough of a social recluse that Bella had no doubts about his obliviousness to her story, and she supposed it was better that way. She was usually prone to oversharing, but with Jamie, she felt an uncharacteristic hesitance while speaking to him about personal matters. She couldn't even pinpoint why, but she knew she couldn't find the words to explain just exactly what she was afraid of. Either he wouldn't understand, or he would judge her, or he wouldn't say anything at all—and she didn't know what would be worse.

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Jamie was and had always been a guarded man. Emotions were things you didn't show. Unless it was anger. That was an acceptable emotion to show. Anything more than that was just something you didn't think of. It made life easier that way. Or so he supposed. As it was, living a mostly solitary life, there was never really any reason to worry about other emotions. And, he was ok with that.

He shook his head as she spoke though. "That's where you're wrong," he said honestly, "I don't look down on you nor do I think you're silly. And no matter how you feel, the MacFusty Clan is one you can trust in." He didn't know why he was being sentimental in such a way. That definitely wasn't a typical Jamie thing to do. But, perhaps, a drink and crying woman in his shack in the middle of the night was enough to make him act in such a way.

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Yay Bree Set!

Lowering her gaze to her lap, Bella sat in silence for a moment. "You've had me fooled, then," she murmured, though her words nearly echoed in the silent, secluded shack. She was inclined to believe he was only protecting her feelings; even if he was blunt, Bella doubted he was daft enough to be blunt moments after her tears had stopped falling. He seemed sincere, though, so Bella remained uncharacteristically silent.

"Not that I would blame you, though," he said suddenly, after the silence had grown too noticeable for her to bear. "I did sort of... impose myself upon you. You never asked for my company." No, she'd been the one starved for company, and she'd latched onto the first person she'd perceived to be as lonely as herself. She now saw that, whereas she wanted—needed, even—to be surrounded by others, Jamie was not troubled by being left to his own devices. (And in fact, in many cases, her presence had disturbed him.)

"Tonight, for example," she continued, arms wrapped around her skirt-clad knees as she curled up on the chair. "You have work tomorrow, I'm sure. You're never not working," she observed aloud. "I'm just being a - a nuisance." Like always, she'd almost added, but a sob caught in her throat before the bitter, self-hating words could leave her mouth. (And to think, she'd been thinking about this man—James MacFusty—while kissing another man, and she'd been nothing but a nuisance to him! He'd claimed not to pay attention to his own emotions, but there was nothing she wouldn't give to know what was running through his mind.)

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Jamie was chuckling lightly as she seemed to pout, her gaze falling to her lap. This woman was a strange one, of that he was sure. Definitely not the typical uppity debutante sort. Though, he had very little experience with that type either. He avoided anyone with their nose stuck up in the air at all costs. He didn't have time, or the patience, for that sort of nonsense. Propriety was something he just barely put any stock into and only because his mother had insisted that they were all downright heathen cavemen. Jamie was perhaps the one that ignored it the most though, simply because he didn't care to be out and about in society the way some of his other siblings did. Besides, his job didn't dictate that he had to be around the public much and he liked it that way.

"Ye've started growin' on me," he said with a faint shrug but then looked to her with a smirk, "Kinda like a wart." He doubted she'd appreciate such a sentiment, who would really, but he said it nonetheless to at least get some sort of reaction from her beyond pouting and crying. It really didn't do her any justice.

But then she was almost sobbing again and even referring to herself as a nuisance and he rolled his eyes as a result. "Now you're just being pitiful," he said bluntly, looking at her directly in the event she did look back up at him, "You say ye're not weak but ye've sure got me convinced ye are right now. Time to pull yer big girl britches up and get on with life, Bella. Cryin' never did anyone any good."

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Bella's face fell into a scowl at his comment, and she rushed to wipe away any stray tears. It was a tug of war between emotion and dignity; she wanted to cry and let her emotions out, yet she didn't want him to think any less of her because of it. Tact was not a strength of his—but his honesty, in some odd, convoluted way, was better than empty words of comfort.

"Jamie MacFusty's wart," she echoed, rolling her eyes. "I can't believe my life's come to this." Her scowl faded into a soft smile, but it left her face just as quickly; no matter how hard she tried, it seemed finding any real, true amusement was impossible in her current state. Bella sniffled and tried to straighten herself out. "Strength is subjective, anyways," she murmured. "I'm stronger than I once was, but I haven't perfected the art of stoicism. Not like you have," She threw a pointed, accusatory glance in his direction.

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Jamie was glad that it pulled her out of her funk somewhat. At least briefly. But she was responding and that was what he'd been going for. He even smirked and waggled his brows at her as a result. "Right on my arse, too," he added, a twinkle to those dark brown eyes of his.

But then she was back to being serious, almost pouting again, before looking at him in that accusatory way. He simply shrugged. "It'll come with time," he answered with another shrug before her drained the remainder of his coffee, "So what was your plan for tonight then, Miss Bella? Was I going to wake up to find you on the floor curled up with the pups?"

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Bella fell into a fit of giggles, her cheeks flaring pink at his comment. It was so vulgar and unsubtle and suggestive, but she was too caught off guard to even wag a scolding finger. She recovered after a moment and, lips pulled into a sheepish smile, she glanced up at him. "I'm sure you would have," she admitted. It took a ridiculous amount of strength to maintain eye contact—even more so than usual. "Or curled up on the grass outside, if I hadn't managed to get the door open in the dark."

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Jamie's grin widened as she fell into her fit of giggles. That was better. Much better. But then it was his turn to look more serious as he watched her and heard her final words. "You'd be lucky if you'd lived through the night," he said, back to the blunt doom and gloom he was so accustomed to being, "Or wouldn't have died not long after thanks to pneumonia."

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Bella rolled her eyes. "I think it's you who worries to much," she pointed out. "One night on the grass won't kill a woman; at worst, I'd be sniffling in the morning. Many have survived worse." She'd survived worse, yet she wasn't prepared to talk about those unsavory moments that she'd resolved to push from her memory. "But even then, the floor is preferable to the dirt and grass."

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Jamie rolled his eyes in return but didn't bother to respond. She was crazy and independent, that much he knew, so there was little point in pushing her further with his own thoughts on the matter. "My bed is big enough for two," he ended up saying instead, rather abruptly, without really thinking of what it was he was saying. Until, of course, the words were already out of his mouth and he was left staring at her with slightly widened eyes.

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Yay Bree Set!

There was a moment where Bella stared at Jamie, and he stared right back. It was a moment of silence, but there were far too many thoughts—loud thoughts—running through her mind that she didn't even realize it until she was already speaking again. "I'm sure it is," she blurted. She felt the sudden urge to flee, but she couldn't—not while he was staring right at her. "I-I wouldn't dream of imposing myself on you that much. I'm sure the couch would, um, suffice... but only if you wouldn't mind," she stammered.

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Jamie was still staring. And, quite frankly, it was all really awkward. He hadn't really meant it that way. He didn't think he did, anyways. No. He was sure he hadn't meant to proposition her in such a way. There would be expectations then, expectations he wasn't sure he could offer or that she would even want. Who would want such a thing from a man like him anyways? With a job that could leave him dead more likely than he was to come home every night, what woman would want such a thing?

Her talking broke him from such thoughts and he cleared his throat and mentally shook himself to break the awkwardness of the situation. "The couch," he started, mind still a bit befuddled by what he'd previously said, "Of course. Just.. next time, if there's a next time, maybe try being quieter. But the couch is always open."

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Still flushed, Bella managed to move to her feet. "Well," she said quietly, "I suppose I'll see you in the morning." She silently moved across the room, only reaching out to gently touch his shoulder as she passed his chair. Once she'd reached the doorway that led into the sitting room, she glanced over her shoulder. "I'll make breakfast in the morning. It's... the least I can do."

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Jamie simply nodded, a bit stiffly. He wasn't really sure what to think or even say now. He'd slipped up with such a comment and an awkward sort of tension had fallen over them as a result. Her slight touch, however, sent a jolt through his whole being. It was something he'd really rather not even think about but he didn't move away from it or flinch. He simply nodded again. "Sounds like a plan," he said, his voice still a bit stiff as he finally stood up himself. Arawn groaned as his bed made of Jamie's feet moved but he simply followed Jamie when the man moved toward his room, lingering just outside the door until she had gone into the sitting room herself.

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Yay Bree Set!