"You did say it though, the other day. I was hoping we'd be past that, but you're not trusting me even now." Arthur kept his voice quiet, gentle. He wasn't angry.
He thought for a moment. "Tonight, then. If you're telling me to pick a date for you. You move in tonight."
Cyrin shrugs, “One, that was the other day, and two, okay. That works.” He tears apart another breadstick, “Trust can build even when you’re away from the person to whom t is directed, plus, you haven’t tried to kill me yet. . .” He trails off, humming forty, “So, that’s a plus. . . I think.”
Arthur just looked at him for a long moment, before calling over a waiter and ordering his food.
"Know what you want?"
Cyrin nods, “Just spaghetti with meatballs.” He leans foreword, taking another breadstick, tearing into it, looking back at Arthur, his face blank.
(I forgot he said that- and if you EVERY wanna get on his good side, speghetti’s the way to go)
As blank as his brain.
It struck Arthur then that he'd gone for a good looking guy, without ever bothering to check if anyone was home upstairs. Oh, please tell me I've invested in someone with some brains…
It certainly didn't seem like it so far.
The waiter nodded, and headed off. Arthur smiled at Cyrin.
"I've done my best not to kill you, so there's that. I guess that is good." His smile faltered, just a bit. "SO…. I'm confused. Do you trust me?"
Cyrin keeps his face blank, watching Arthur for a moment, what he, Cyrin himself, had said made him think about something, but now was not the time to think about it, because of he did, he feared he an do something stupid. He blinks and grins, "Sorry, I spaced out. I do that sometimes. Loose focus and just stare with a bank face."
Cyrin listens to Arthur, a small crease forming on his brow as the Other man spoke, but he doesn't say anything about the killing joke anymore and instead he debates on Arthur's question for a moment, "Honestly, as of about sixty seconds ago, I don't know." He shrugs, "I really don't know." He hums thoughtfully.
Cyrin certainly did do it a lot. He'd spent a lot of his time with Arthur looking blank, not having articulate responses, and humming, and Arthur was beginning to wonder about his mental capacity.
He sighed and shook his head. "So what the heck was all that about 'you can learn to trust someone even when they're not around'? I'm trying to-……. You know what, never mind…." His voice faded, and his face fell, just winding up looking discouragedly at the tabletop.
Cyrin sighs, "That was before I got myself thinking about something stupid." He keeps thinking watching Arthur, " Look, I've got to trust you to have come to luch. I've got to trust you to move into and apartment that is literally right below yours. I trust as I would any other friend that I just met about a week ago. Maybe more than that." He shrugs, "And look, most of my friends don't even know my sister's dead. The only reason some of them know is because they watch the news."
Arthur nodded slowly, somewhat assuaged. Though his brow furrowed towards the end.
"Why don't your friends know? Can't they tell something's up? Don't they check on you?"
Now, he knew people were awful, but this persona he'd put on would be appalled that no one was showing care for Cyrin.
"I don't understand that." he said quietly. "If you care about someone, you check on their wellbeing, ask what's going on in their life… that's why I checked on you. You were so down, I knew something was up…" His face mixed concern and sympathy.
"Well. I'm here for you if you need it…"
Cyrin clears his throat, “Yes, they do call, when they can, but we’re all busy and spread out. Like I said, most of them found out from the news, but that’s because I’m not a very open person. I don’t always share everything. And then it would be everything they talk about. Her being dead. Yes, we care about about each other, but there are so,e things we don’t share. We share them when we’re ready.”
He hums, “The only reason I told you is because. . . Well, I guess I wanted you to know.” He shrugs slightly.
Arthur listened, his face showing more sympathy.
"Well… thank you. For telling me. I'll try not to let it be all we talk about, but if you need to talk about it more… I'm here."
Their food showed up just then, and Arthur dug in. Cyrin's relationships with his friends sounded… really cold, and Arthur wasn't sure how that boded for what he was trying to do.
Cyrin nods, “Well, we do tell each other things, but it’s when we’re ready. Of course I want their support, but I also want to feel emotionally stable before I do so.” He shrugs, “I was going to tell them when I could, when I had the time to deal with all of them. “ He laughs softly, taking a bite of food, “God, that makes me sound bad.”
He smiles at Arthur, “Thanks.”
Arthur shook his head quickly. "It doesn't make you sound bad, just sounds like you don't have energy at the moment, which is completely fair."
He returned the smile. "Of course, Cyrin." He chewed thoughtfully for a moment.
"So… not to push you… but you can share before you're emotionally stable. That's the point of a solid friendship, is to help each other when we're at our lowest point. Not just when we've got things under control." He shrugged, not trying to pressure Cyrin. "Just putting that out there."
Cyrin sighs, “I know. . .” He murmurs, “But it’s difficult. Even if they’re my friends and they’ve been with me through everything.” He keeps eating his food, smiling slightly.
Arthur nodded slowly. "I guess I don't know how relate to that very well. I know how I think friendships should go, but… I don't really have any friends of my own, so I guess I don't know."
Cyrin hums, “Well, honestly, everyone will deal with things differently. My friends and I wait until we’re ready, while some other friend groups just spill right away.”
"See, to me, that second one makes sense. You tell your friends what you're going through, while you're going through it, so they can help you get through it. Not telling them till after… just seems off."
It did, from a friendship perspective, but Arthur was also internally excited.
This meant Cyrin wouldn't tell anyone what he was being put through when they got there, till it was over. Which worked in Sixclaw's favor.
Cyrin hums, “Or acceptance that it’s happening. Getting over the shock, maybe not trough the thing and over what happened, but I like to be mostly clearheaded. If I’m in shock. . . Then, well. And the news travels faster these days than the time it takes for me to finish talking to the police. It only happened just yesterday.”
Arthur just quirked an eyebrow. The kid had a very… interesting view of friendship. But he decided not to push it.
"Well. As long as that works for you." He smiled, though his face sobered.
"Do the police have any ideas about what happened?" he asked quietly.
Cyrin shrugs, “They said either a psycho or an animal. But there are no traces of an animal and they haven’t found one in town, so. . .” He lifts a shoulder in a shrug, “I’m not worried about how it happened. I’m more worried about what Papa will do if they ever find out who did it. . . what he’ll do. Saline was his favorite.”
(pronounced say-leen, like salt water? or something like suh-leen, typically spelled Celine?)
(Suh-leen)
Well, they were right. It was both a psycho and an animal. Arthur stuffed the deeply satisfied feeling way down and looked sympathetic. "Worried your father will do something stupid?"
He frowned a bit. "I'm sure he loves you just as much as you sister."
(got it. my brain was just reading saltwater XD )
Cyrin hums, “Yeah, probably.” He shrugs slightly, “I know that, but he was. . . Extra ly close with her. They had a strong bond.”
"And your mom seems to be taking it really hard, you said? I mean, obviously, it's awful, but like… you know what I mean."
He watched Arthur's reaction and facial expressions.
So. Pretty serious father-wound there. Noted.
Cyrin nods, “Yeah. She’s. . .” He sighs, running his hand through his hair, “She’s blaming herself, for letting Saline go off by herself like that. But it’s not like she could have known what would happen.”
"Oh no… that's awful, she can't blame herself for that…" Arthur's face conveyed that his heart hurt for Cyrin's mom. That would be so hard, blaming yourself for the death of a child. Your child.
Internally, of course, he was eating it up.
Cyrin stays silent, staring at his plate, fidgeting with his silverware, “No, she can’t but that’s not stopping her. . .” He murmurs, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, “But, we’re trying to help her the best we can.”
"…. you worried she might do something bad too?" Arthur asked quietly.
An idea, an awful, terrible idea, popped into his head, and he waited for Cyrin to respond.
Maybe this sets itself up…