The trouble with Winter...

[becky-spence.livejournal.com]

Aria woke sharply, bathed in a light sheen of sweat, with a fervent hope that Cormac had not been paying too close attention to that particular dream. Each detail was still etched on the back of her eyes, and she knew that with this one, she couldn’t even look forward to the typical fading away of more standard dreams.

She scowled faintly to herself as she moved lightly towards the shower. Usually she had a little more control than that over her dreams, shaping the world as she slept, making it safe, secure, hers.

It was, she mused, as the water sprayed down around her, entirely the fault of that blasted, irresponsible, irritating, distracting pirate. All he’d had to do at the Coronation is be his usual level of torment, and she could have quite happily responded with as good as she got. But no, he had to go and raise his game, go subtly implying that he might actually be jealous. It was almost too unbelievable, and intensely problematic. Jealous people rarely played the game fairly, and Carin was hardly the fairest of players in the first place.

Shower completed, she drifted back through to the bedroom, grabbing clothes as she passed. Deyanira hadn’t yet returned from Tomnahurich Market, but the routine of Monday morning working meant that Aria’s trip north had been a little curtailed.

Her work day drifted by, more calls from desperate people, meetings with pleading faces, all wanting a job, wanting a wage, wanting a purpose. December was always a tricky time for recruitment, with lots of temporary work, no stability at a time of the year stability was really needed. She sifted those people she could, those who really did want to work, uncovering what they really wanted to do, prodding them towards areas they might not have otherwise considered in their blinkered approach to job hunting.

Her lunch break came as something of a relief, she breathed deeply as she stepped out of the office into the crisp late November air. The street market was setting up in Birmingham, and she wandered the stalls with her head spinning with confusing and contradictory thoughts.

One man there gently convinced to buy that necklace for his girlfriend, even though she’d not voiced the secret wish for it. One girl persuaded not to buy the hideous yellow jumper that would have only caused an upset on Christmas day. Two friends, laughing as they paused at a food stand, both made to realise they stood under the mistletoe and to consider something more than friendship.

Why, Aria mused, was it so easy to sort things for everyone else and not for herself? A nudge here, a suggestion there. Straightforward enough.

Looking Rea in the eyes and dodging the truth when she pointedly asked why Aria was wearing a collar. Restraining the urge to slap Carin as he blithely told her how little he approved of her choice in Cormac, after paying for the information with a kiss. Clinging to Cormac for reassurance, and not really finding as much as she’d hoped for.

“God, roll on Spring...” she muttered, as she slowly walked back to the office. She suspected it would be a long, cold Winter.

Comments

[annwfyn.livejournal.com]

Thank you. That's cool. It's really nice to get a feel for Aria a bit.