"Lately I've been having...issues. Lord knows where they've come from, really. I live in a happy home with well-off and loving parents. But...something's wrong with me. It's been festering there for a while, but it was two days ago when it finally...erupted. I think it might be an inferiority complex of sorts. My father's so smart, and I...I sometimes feel like I haven't earned this happy life that I've got. That if I don't do as well as he's done he'll stop loving me or...or something. It's irrational, he says, but I...I just can't shake this feeling. It began to seep into everything. My schoolwork...it was all over the place. No matter what I did it just never seemed perfect enough. And I...I over-exerted myself a few days ago. And now I'm here."
Bella looked up at the boy beside her, and noted the tear on his cheek. "Oh, I must seem so weird, just pouring this all on you. I guess I've just never had someone who'd really take any interest in my problems. But...you're different...Garrett, was it? Yes...it's...it seems different with you."
She pulled a neatly-folded tissue from the pocket of her skirt and handed it to Garrett. "I'm sorry for your loss, truly. I can't even begin to imagine what's it like, to lose someone so close to you..."
Bella smiled as Garrett reassured her of her abilities as a confidante, before bringing the subject around to her perpetual doubts over her academic skills. "Only me...that's such a sweet thing to say, Garrett. You always know how to make me feel better. I've always wondered why you've never had a gi...had an...accolade of sorts. Heh."
I didn't think that sentence through very well. That's...not good. A warning sign of sorts. I'll have to take my medication straight after this...
"Yes...I'll be sure to tell you if I'm getting stressed. Just be glad you haven't seen me stressed and unmedicated. It's...not the prettiest site in the world, I can tell you that much. I've been looking into a few meditations and such to help keep myself calm. I don't want to have to rely on my fluoxetine forever. I mean, what if I ended up losing it? D'you think you could suggest any? Meditations, I mean."
She heard a faint vibration come from Garrett's pocket, and noted how close the next class was. French, I think...I hope I studied enough for the test. I know I studied enough.
Historically Speaking
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Emprexx Plush
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He found himself drawn into quiet contemplation as he wiped the tears away, his sadness displaced by tactical analysis. He wondered if this was how Alexander felt during their first meetings. Was that his secret? By pouring his heart out to everyone else, was he able to dilute his own sorrow into irrelevance? Perhaps that was his last lesson. It was a better strategy than being ruled by bitterness. What did he have to lose?
"Bella, I don't mean to overstep my bounds here, but...I don't think you need to worry about being perfect. You're here because you're a brilliant, kind person who doesn't even possess the malice to be arrogant about you're work. That's incredible, really. If it wasn't actively causing you pain, I'd even say that it's laudable. It is, though. That's why you're here. You shouldn't feel bad about being here, though. You're here because you're an amazing person, and you need some help seeing that yourself. You're here because you're hurting yourself and that saddens the people that care about you."
He chuckled to spite himself. "You want to know how I know all this? Because I've only been talking to you for a few minutes, and I can already tell you're an incredible person. It saddens me that you can't see that yet. Bella, you don't need to worry about being perfect. You already are."
"You give it sweetness, Bella. I simply try to remind you what an amazing person you are, in my own incompetent way." He grinned at her, cocking his head, "Why? Other than my antiquated mannerisms, dedication to a dead philosophy, and crippling emotional instability? Well personally, I blame the disaster zone that I charitably refer to as my face."
He nodded as she confessed her desire to some day reach beyond fluoxetine. She was braver than he was to take it in the first place, he had always been adamantly against taking any sort of medication to balance his mood. It was a vain, illogical course, but he found the risk of chemical dependency unsettling. "Well, I can think of one unconventional meditation that you may have already come across..." He slowly leaned away from her, shutting his eyes and settling in his chair comfortably as he began to recite the familiar litany.
"I must not fear.
Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing......Only I will remain."
He grinned wide as he finished it. "Frank Herbert's 'Litany Against Fear', drawn from the novel 'Dune.' More science fantasy than high fantasy, but it was always a favorite of Alexander's. The words themselves are unimportant. Meditation is about fixing your mind on a point of repetition and using that to quiet the chaos of conscious thought until you're left with silence. Does that make sense?"
"Bella, I don't mean to overstep my bounds here, but...I don't think you need to worry about being perfect. You're here because you're a brilliant, kind person who doesn't even possess the malice to be arrogant about you're work. That's incredible, really. If it wasn't actively causing you pain, I'd even say that it's laudable. It is, though. That's why you're here. You shouldn't feel bad about being here, though. You're here because you're an amazing person, and you need some help seeing that yourself. You're here because you're hurting yourself and that saddens the people that care about you."
He chuckled to spite himself. "You want to know how I know all this? Because I've only been talking to you for a few minutes, and I can already tell you're an incredible person. It saddens me that you can't see that yet. Bella, you don't need to worry about being perfect. You already are."
"You give it sweetness, Bella. I simply try to remind you what an amazing person you are, in my own incompetent way." He grinned at her, cocking his head, "Why? Other than my antiquated mannerisms, dedication to a dead philosophy, and crippling emotional instability? Well personally, I blame the disaster zone that I charitably refer to as my face."
He nodded as she confessed her desire to some day reach beyond fluoxetine. She was braver than he was to take it in the first place, he had always been adamantly against taking any sort of medication to balance his mood. It was a vain, illogical course, but he found the risk of chemical dependency unsettling. "Well, I can think of one unconventional meditation that you may have already come across..." He slowly leaned away from her, shutting his eyes and settling in his chair comfortably as he began to recite the familiar litany.
"I must not fear.
Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing......Only I will remain."
He grinned wide as he finished it. "Frank Herbert's 'Litany Against Fear', drawn from the novel 'Dune.' More science fantasy than high fantasy, but it was always a favorite of Alexander's. The words themselves are unimportant. Meditation is about fixing your mind on a point of repetition and using that to quiet the chaos of conscious thought until you're left with silence. Does that make sense?"
Mirabella found a grin plastered across her face, in spite of her current circumstances. "Three minutes and you're already calling me perfect. If you don't stop I think I might faint from blushing too much."
She looked up to see the counsellor begin to move around in their compact office, and glanced at the plain clock that ticked gently from its position on the waiting room wall. "Oh. I think...I think it's time for one of us to go in now, Garrett. Would...would you mind if you went first? I think I need a moment to clean up all of these tears and makeup. I swear, from this day forward...no more makeup. It's more trouble than it's worth, I think. You've already seen me like this, so I..I guess there's no turning back where you're concerned, but with others...I think they'd like me more if I wasn't such a mess."
Mirabella smirked at Garrett's reply. She appreciated his sense of humour. It was far removed from the crass jokes enjoyed by many of her peers - Ever the pretentious one, I am - but didn't tread the delicate tightrope of offensiveness that was favoured by others. She made sure to look into Garrett's eyes as she responded. "You may not be...conventionally handsome, Garrett, but I do think you hold a certain charm. And your "antiquated mannerisms" as you call them are quite enjoyable. As for emotional instability...well, we've all got troubles there, don't we?"
Garrett then began to recite a meditation of sorts. Bella sat in awe as he did so, entranced by the way he recalled the litany. It seemed vaguely familiar to her, and he thoughts were affirmed when Garrett stated its source. Clapping softly, she whispered "That was excellent, Garrett! I'll be sure to get myself a copy. And I...yes, I understand what you're talking about, with the whole repetition thing."
Well, I...don't. But, what is it that they say? "Fake it 'till you make it?" It'll come to me in time, I'm sure.
"Dune...I believe my father has that somewhere...we've...got a library of sorts at our house."
Alright. Time to bring our meetings to a little more informal setting...but not in a date way. Gosh, no. Just...friends is all.
It was an awkward transition, not one that Mirabella particularly liked, but it was as good a time as ever. "Garrett...you should come over sometime. We've got quite the collection of board games. Nothing particularly sophisticated, but I'm sure there'd be something of interest to you. And there's daddy's chess set...I'm sure he'd be glad to play a game or two with you."
She looked up to see the counsellor begin to move around in their compact office, and glanced at the plain clock that ticked gently from its position on the waiting room wall. "Oh. I think...I think it's time for one of us to go in now, Garrett. Would...would you mind if you went first? I think I need a moment to clean up all of these tears and makeup. I swear, from this day forward...no more makeup. It's more trouble than it's worth, I think. You've already seen me like this, so I..I guess there's no turning back where you're concerned, but with others...I think they'd like me more if I wasn't such a mess."
Mirabella smirked at Garrett's reply. She appreciated his sense of humour. It was far removed from the crass jokes enjoyed by many of her peers - Ever the pretentious one, I am - but didn't tread the delicate tightrope of offensiveness that was favoured by others. She made sure to look into Garrett's eyes as she responded. "You may not be...conventionally handsome, Garrett, but I do think you hold a certain charm. And your "antiquated mannerisms" as you call them are quite enjoyable. As for emotional instability...well, we've all got troubles there, don't we?"
Garrett then began to recite a meditation of sorts. Bella sat in awe as he did so, entranced by the way he recalled the litany. It seemed vaguely familiar to her, and he thoughts were affirmed when Garrett stated its source. Clapping softly, she whispered "That was excellent, Garrett! I'll be sure to get myself a copy. And I...yes, I understand what you're talking about, with the whole repetition thing."
Well, I...don't. But, what is it that they say? "Fake it 'till you make it?" It'll come to me in time, I'm sure.
"Dune...I believe my father has that somewhere...we've...got a library of sorts at our house."
Alright. Time to bring our meetings to a little more informal setting...but not in a date way. Gosh, no. Just...friends is all.
It was an awkward transition, not one that Mirabella particularly liked, but it was as good a time as ever. "Garrett...you should come over sometime. We've got quite the collection of board games. Nothing particularly sophisticated, but I'm sure there'd be something of interest to you. And there's daddy's chess set...I'm sure he'd be glad to play a game or two with you."
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Emprexx Plush
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He smiled genuinely for the first time in weeks. "What can I say? I was trained to be a quick study. I'll admit that I may speak a bit too quickly, but one should never be cautious when giving out good will."
He noted the movement from the counselor's office and nodded at her request. This would be as good a time as any for him to stumble his way through another session. "Go right ahead, I'm sure I have enough long-winded diatribes left in me to distract them until you're ready." He got up but hesitated, looking back over his shoulder. "You're bigger than your problems, Bella. No matter what you tell yourself or what they say today, you're already a lot closer to being 'normal' than most people who come through here. You just need a little bit of help seeing that, I suppose."
He straightened out his tattered clothes and rose to knock on the door, mumbling Bradbury's familiar title out of habit, just loud enough to be heard by his departing companion.
"Once more, legato." The show must go on.
Unconventional. That was a word that described Garrett well. Though Bella was hardly the first to use it, he suspected she was one of the few that didn't mean it as a thinly veiled insult. Then again, she was unconventional as well, which left her with a somewhat unique appreciation for the phrase. Regardless, he'd learned long ago to be better at insulting himself than anyone else ever could, an odd talent that served him well in these conversations. He was always glad to make her smile with a self-deprecating jab or two.
He made a mental note to leave another rose at Alexander's grave today. They had recited Herbert's litanies together until he could proclaim it backwards in his sleep if necessary, and the Litany Against Fear had served him particularly well over the years. There had been a quiet fear in the back of his mind that the chant would be too bizarre for Bella, but that was unfounded. "If you have trouble finding a copy of it, let me know. Alexander was fond of using it in his lectures, so his old laptop is full of dozens of dissections and meditations on the topic. I'm sure there's at least one file of unedited text in there somewhere."
A part of him was surprised at Bella's invitation. There were very few people that Garrett would trust himself with in more informal, private situations, and while she was certainly one of those people the idea had never come up. It made him anxious for reasons he couldn't quite place, though in a charitable turn of fortune he was able to keep that anxiety from showing. He'd have to examine that feeling later, it promised to be trouble. It would be rude to hesitate now, though, so he was quick to respond.
"I'd enjoy that! Come to think of it, I don't think I've actually spoken to your father for more than a few moments at a time. He sounds like a great man from everything you've told me though, so it would be a pleasure to meet him. I could even bring some of my creative writing notes to compare with yours, if you think you could stomach my boorish attempts at fantasy."
He noted the movement from the counselor's office and nodded at her request. This would be as good a time as any for him to stumble his way through another session. "Go right ahead, I'm sure I have enough long-winded diatribes left in me to distract them until you're ready." He got up but hesitated, looking back over his shoulder. "You're bigger than your problems, Bella. No matter what you tell yourself or what they say today, you're already a lot closer to being 'normal' than most people who come through here. You just need a little bit of help seeing that, I suppose."
He straightened out his tattered clothes and rose to knock on the door, mumbling Bradbury's familiar title out of habit, just loud enough to be heard by his departing companion.
"Once more, legato." The show must go on.
Unconventional. That was a word that described Garrett well. Though Bella was hardly the first to use it, he suspected she was one of the few that didn't mean it as a thinly veiled insult. Then again, she was unconventional as well, which left her with a somewhat unique appreciation for the phrase. Regardless, he'd learned long ago to be better at insulting himself than anyone else ever could, an odd talent that served him well in these conversations. He was always glad to make her smile with a self-deprecating jab or two.
He made a mental note to leave another rose at Alexander's grave today. They had recited Herbert's litanies together until he could proclaim it backwards in his sleep if necessary, and the Litany Against Fear had served him particularly well over the years. There had been a quiet fear in the back of his mind that the chant would be too bizarre for Bella, but that was unfounded. "If you have trouble finding a copy of it, let me know. Alexander was fond of using it in his lectures, so his old laptop is full of dozens of dissections and meditations on the topic. I'm sure there's at least one file of unedited text in there somewhere."
A part of him was surprised at Bella's invitation. There were very few people that Garrett would trust himself with in more informal, private situations, and while she was certainly one of those people the idea had never come up. It made him anxious for reasons he couldn't quite place, though in a charitable turn of fortune he was able to keep that anxiety from showing. He'd have to examine that feeling later, it promised to be trouble. It would be rude to hesitate now, though, so he was quick to respond.
"I'd enjoy that! Come to think of it, I don't think I've actually spoken to your father for more than a few moments at a time. He sounds like a great man from everything you've told me though, so it would be a pleasure to meet him. I could even bring some of my creative writing notes to compare with yours, if you think you could stomach my boorish attempts at fantasy."
Tissue in hand, Mirabella started to dab away at the traces of eyeliner that stained her face as Garrett vacated the waiting room. She'd been so worried just a few minutes earlier, but now she was at ease. Her heartbeats had slowed, and her posture wasn't so hunched. Garrett seemed a quirky boy, but that merely served to add to his unintimidating nature. She hoped that this wouldn't be the last time they talked.
"Garrett...Garrett Wilde. I'll remember you."
Garrett was a gallant fellow, that much was true. At least, what could pass for gallantry in 2012. "I'll be sure to remember that. I hadn't heard too much of Dune, but it sounds a lot more complex than my initial impressions. I'll ask daddy about it tonight." She giggled slightly, glancing at the pair of hands clasped together on the library table. "I...I don't suppose you're a Brontë fan, are you?"
Huh. He said yes. The books always tell you how to ask, but never what to do afterwards.
...
Responding might be a good option, I think.
"Oh yes, I'm sure daddy will love your company. Mother will like you as well, I should think. Even if she is a little wary - she was in my position many times in her youth, I believe - If you do the whole 'I can see where so-and-so gets her good looks from' then she'll do a complete turn around."
Oh. Now I sound vain about my looks. But if I say anything then I'll just end up whining again. Best to leave it for now, I think.
Writing? The thought had almost slipped Bella's mind. "Oh, that'd be splendid! 'Boorish', you say. Trust me, Garrett. If you know the word 'boorish' then your writing likely won't be such. As for me...well, as long as you can tolerate names such as Theophania and Euphrasia then I think we'll be fine, Garrett."
She casually glanced at the simple watch that adorned her wrist. After a few seconds, the brevity of their break finally dawned on her. Oh, how time flies...
"Well...I guess we'd better start preparing for our next class, I guess. Geometry for you, right?"
"Garrett...Garrett Wilde. I'll remember you."
Garrett was a gallant fellow, that much was true. At least, what could pass for gallantry in 2012. "I'll be sure to remember that. I hadn't heard too much of Dune, but it sounds a lot more complex than my initial impressions. I'll ask daddy about it tonight." She giggled slightly, glancing at the pair of hands clasped together on the library table. "I...I don't suppose you're a Brontë fan, are you?"
Huh. He said yes. The books always tell you how to ask, but never what to do afterwards.
...
Responding might be a good option, I think.
"Oh yes, I'm sure daddy will love your company. Mother will like you as well, I should think. Even if she is a little wary - she was in my position many times in her youth, I believe - If you do the whole 'I can see where so-and-so gets her good looks from' then she'll do a complete turn around."
Oh. Now I sound vain about my looks. But if I say anything then I'll just end up whining again. Best to leave it for now, I think.
Writing? The thought had almost slipped Bella's mind. "Oh, that'd be splendid! 'Boorish', you say. Trust me, Garrett. If you know the word 'boorish' then your writing likely won't be such. As for me...well, as long as you can tolerate names such as Theophania and Euphrasia then I think we'll be fine, Garrett."
She casually glanced at the simple watch that adorned her wrist. After a few seconds, the brevity of their break finally dawned on her. Oh, how time flies...
"Well...I guess we'd better start preparing for our next class, I guess. Geometry for you, right?"
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Emprexx Plush
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There was a small voice in Garrett's head screaming at him for being so relaxed. The tone of this meeting had slowly drifted away from their usual discussions to something far more casual, and he realized how potentially unwise that could be as he noticed their hands were still clasped together on the table. From a strategic viewpoint he was overextended well beyond his normal bounds, and instinct urged him to cut off the meeting quickly to avoid variables he couldn't control. It was a mathematically sound, if uncharacteristically cold, plan. He had no intention of pursuing it, however. Bella had proven herself to be a trustworthy companion time and time again, to the point that he doubted he could present a convincing guarded front to her if he wanted to. "It's a complicated book, but I think you'd enjoy it. There's a great deal of philosophical depth to it." He cocked his head slightly as he pondered her question. "Emily, Anne, Or Charlotte? I enjoy Emily the most out of the Brontë sisters, but the others have their charms."
He chuckled as he considered voicing his next thought. "I can understand her wariness, if I had wonderful daughter like you I'm sure keeping riff-raff such as myself under close observation would be a top priority."
His mind fled to his own notes and she recited the names of her characters. "I'll have to take your word for it now, I've been told I am my own worst critic. Bella, if you can bear with Timmith and Herschel, I think I'll get along with Theophania and Euphrasia just fine."
Her glance at her watch reminded him how close their next class was before she did. He sighed as he looked at the textbook by his side with contempt. "Regrettably enough. If I don't survive, give my apologies to my family," he stated with a wink. "It's French for you next, isn't it?"
He chuckled as he considered voicing his next thought. "I can understand her wariness, if I had wonderful daughter like you I'm sure keeping riff-raff such as myself under close observation would be a top priority."
His mind fled to his own notes and she recited the names of her characters. "I'll have to take your word for it now, I've been told I am my own worst critic. Bella, if you can bear with Timmith and Herschel, I think I'll get along with Theophania and Euphrasia just fine."
Her glance at her watch reminded him how close their next class was before she did. He sighed as he looked at the textbook by his side with contempt. "Regrettably enough. If I don't survive, give my apologies to my family," he stated with a wink. "It's French for you next, isn't it?"
"Philosophy...it's one of those things that I've always had an interest in but never fully got around to exploring any of it in depth. As for the Brontë's...I've always been partial to Charlotte, myself. Although I can perfectly understand why you favour Emily. Wuthering Heights is such a classic...I guess I just enjoyed Charlotte more simply because there was more of her to enjoy. I do quite like Emily's poetry, though. I've tried my hand at a few poems...they're not for me, I'm afraid to say, and..." She gently raised her free hand, the hand that wasn't entwined with Garrett's, "before you say something about how I'm underestimating myself, you must believe me when I say that they are truly awful."
Bella smiled at Garrett's next comment. "Well, you're not the worst boy I could bring home, Garrett. I can think of plenty of others that my mother would take one look at and we'd need to bring out smelling salts. Yes...I'll have to call you later, have you come around. It should be fun!"
And there he goes with the "wonderful" thing again. I should really stop him, but...it's kinda nice, I guess.
"Timmith and Herschel, you say? Well, I'm intrigued already..."
Just as Mirabella was about to reply to Garrett's bemoaning of Geometry, the shrill clanging that signalled the end of break rang throughout the library. Bella breathed in deeply; the school bell was far from being the most pleasant of sounds. She clenched Garrett's hand and gently released it, pulling her satchel over her shoulder.
"Yep! French is indeed next for me. It should be fun. We've got the marks on a vocabulary test back, which I'm looking forward to..."
The wink having not escaped her notice, Mirabella elected to reciprocate it as she clasped her folder in her other hand and left the building, offering Garrett a small wave as she did so. "Well, goodbye Garrett! Have...fun with Mrs. Havok! I'll be sure to notify your parents of your impending demise."
((Mirabella Strong continued in Quixotic))
Bella smiled at Garrett's next comment. "Well, you're not the worst boy I could bring home, Garrett. I can think of plenty of others that my mother would take one look at and we'd need to bring out smelling salts. Yes...I'll have to call you later, have you come around. It should be fun!"
And there he goes with the "wonderful" thing again. I should really stop him, but...it's kinda nice, I guess.
"Timmith and Herschel, you say? Well, I'm intrigued already..."
Just as Mirabella was about to reply to Garrett's bemoaning of Geometry, the shrill clanging that signalled the end of break rang throughout the library. Bella breathed in deeply; the school bell was far from being the most pleasant of sounds. She clenched Garrett's hand and gently released it, pulling her satchel over her shoulder.
"Yep! French is indeed next for me. It should be fun. We've got the marks on a vocabulary test back, which I'm looking forward to..."
The wink having not escaped her notice, Mirabella elected to reciprocate it as she clasped her folder in her other hand and left the building, offering Garrett a small wave as she did so. "Well, goodbye Garrett! Have...fun with Mrs. Havok! I'll be sure to notify your parents of your impending demise."
((Mirabella Strong continued in Quixotic))
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Emprexx Plush
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Garrett had started to protest against the further manifestation of Bella's self-doubt, but she quickly cut him off at the pass with a hand wave. His grin turned sheepish as he realized how predictable he'd become around her, and noted with minor concern that he wasn't bothered by that revelation. He threw up his free hand in mock surrender. He'd meant to continue on, but the bell cut them off sharply. He felt her give his hand a slight squeeze and found himself returning the gesture before pulling away.
He waved after her as she left, stating in hushed tones "I'm sure the reviews will be glowing, as always. Goodbye, Bella!"
As he watched her leave a small, sardonic chuckle escaped from him. This friendship had become infinitely more complicated than he'd originally planned. While he was free with compliments and encouragement with nearly everyone, it was all superficial. Bella was one of the few people to whom he meant every word he said. It was refreshing, as he'd expected, but he couldn't shake the sense that there was also something dangerous about it. No matter how he examined the situation, the facts were plain: He was incapable of leaving his guard up around her. What was both fascinating and terrifying was that it wasn't due to some trick or twist of rhetoric on her part. He simply had nothing left to hide from her after all the time they'd known each other. That frightened him in away. He wasn't used to lacking an exit strategy. Still, it felt natural. As he gathered his books, his thoughts drifted back to Grandpa Alexander and how his death had been the catalyst for this entire relationship. He'd certainly be visiting Alexander's grave today, and he knew exactly what he'd say.
You know Grandpa, I've always liked to believe that I did your funeral perfectly. However, there's one thing I'd change looking back: your tombstone. It should say "Here lies Alexander Wilde: One clever old bastard." All these years of planning and teaching and scheming, and I thought you couldn't impress me anymore. Yet here it is. You even managed to time your own death perfectly.
He knew the notion was ridiculous. He had no particular belief in the supernatural, even when it came to Alexander's near-mystical insights. It reinforced the smile on his face, however, to believe that if such things were possible, everything would be going according to plan.
Requiescat in pace, avus paternus.
((Garrett Wilde continued in Walk slow, talk slow, keep yer head low))
He waved after her as she left, stating in hushed tones "I'm sure the reviews will be glowing, as always. Goodbye, Bella!"
As he watched her leave a small, sardonic chuckle escaped from him. This friendship had become infinitely more complicated than he'd originally planned. While he was free with compliments and encouragement with nearly everyone, it was all superficial. Bella was one of the few people to whom he meant every word he said. It was refreshing, as he'd expected, but he couldn't shake the sense that there was also something dangerous about it. No matter how he examined the situation, the facts were plain: He was incapable of leaving his guard up around her. What was both fascinating and terrifying was that it wasn't due to some trick or twist of rhetoric on her part. He simply had nothing left to hide from her after all the time they'd known each other. That frightened him in away. He wasn't used to lacking an exit strategy. Still, it felt natural. As he gathered his books, his thoughts drifted back to Grandpa Alexander and how his death had been the catalyst for this entire relationship. He'd certainly be visiting Alexander's grave today, and he knew exactly what he'd say.
You know Grandpa, I've always liked to believe that I did your funeral perfectly. However, there's one thing I'd change looking back: your tombstone. It should say "Here lies Alexander Wilde: One clever old bastard." All these years of planning and teaching and scheming, and I thought you couldn't impress me anymore. Yet here it is. You even managed to time your own death perfectly.
He knew the notion was ridiculous. He had no particular belief in the supernatural, even when it came to Alexander's near-mystical insights. It reinforced the smile on his face, however, to believe that if such things were possible, everything would be going according to plan.
Requiescat in pace, avus paternus.
((Garrett Wilde continued in Walk slow, talk slow, keep yer head low))