|
Post by László on Jun 9, 2009 12:34:18 GMT -5
He was still smiling, partly because she'd accepted the name so easily, but also partly from her enthusiasm.
"He does seem the type to do that, doesn't he?"
He didn't quite know how to respond to the arm around him--his initial thought was to do the same back, but he was so unused to interacting with anyone female that he hesitated.
"I'm glad he did, though. I love it here."
|
|
|
Post by Rosalind on Jun 9, 2009 12:41:30 GMT -5
Rosalind nodded, but slipped slightly into a realm of rather-pained reverie nonetheless. She wondered when Mercutio had done this, and as she was semi-fighting with him was more inclined to see his faults than the wonderful things that outshone them, and couldn't understand how he could be so reckless and impulsive. If László had said that to someone more consequential than Rosalind, he could have gotten László in trouble, and more importantly, himself. Of course, she couldn't be certain that László ever would say something like that to anyone, but he'd said it to her as though Mercutio were anything more than a recently-hired stagehand (there it was, the word!) who passed the time heaving pouty sighs at playful girls more often than he did heaving props around.
László's wistfulness struck a chord in her a great deal, though. She knew the feeling, although it was not so often directed at the Opera. "Do you truly? Neither Mercutio nor myself could really give a proper tour, but - " it all came to her rather suddenly, this silly suggestion - "we have a dear friend who is one of the singers and she could probably..."
|
|
|
Post by László on Jun 9, 2009 12:45:40 GMT -5
"Opera is...it means a lot to me." He couldn't properly put it into words, as that just seemed to...cheapen it, somehow. It was more than just the music itself, or the building that housed it. It held an appeal he couldn't really explain.
At the mention of meeting a singer, László's eyes lit up.
"Really? I mean, you don't have to but that would be wonderful."
|
|
|
Post by Rosalind on Jun 9, 2009 12:51:51 GMT -5
Rosalind couldn't have articulated it, either; she knew, therefore, that it was real, and that it was real for László too. She smiled at him. She'd since removed her arm, unable to really hold the boisterous attitude when she was still in such uncertainty about her relationship with Mercutio, but her hands were slipped into her pockets and she had the rare ability to appear to be listening, really listening, as one spoke.
And she was, as well as paying perfect attention. Her smile was all the more genuine for his reaction. She thought Alex would probably like him, although she did not know that Alex felt altogether nearly as seriously about Opera - or maybe anything - as Rosalind did, and thought László seemed to. This was not something she held against her, though. Goodness knew Mercutio did not appreciate Opera anywhere near the same way this chap did.
"She is another Mercutio-companion," and then, confided jokingly, on impulse, "mostly because we are all red-haired, I don't suppose we could much tolerate him otherwise."
She had thought she was joking, anyway. She was not certain - although she didn't think it quite soaked through into her words - that she had been now. Perhaps joking was a way - a cowardly and female way - of saying what one really thought without damaging a relationship. She hoped it hadn't already been damaged.
|
|
|
Post by László on Jun 9, 2009 12:57:45 GMT -5
He laughed at the red-haired joke, and though he got some hint that there was more there than that, it didn't show nor would he comment on it.
"Mercutio seems to have a lot of friends. Makes me feel a bit left out."
He said it with good humor, though it masked a very real feeling that he hadn't expected--he did, just a little, feel a bit jealous that others seemed to so easily develop a circle of friends, and here he was struggling with the few friendly faces he knew.
|
|
|
Post by Rosalind on Jun 9, 2009 13:06:03 GMT -5
She bumped him with her shoulder sort of cheerily.
"Yes," she said softly, "it does."
Mercutio might have made a lot of friends but she was not certain of how interested he was in keeping them. She frowned slightly, changing the subject.
"You know," she ventured, "I... He's not really supposed to do that. I close the doors around here just so that things like that don't happen. Not that I mind," she said, looking back at him, and not saying it so hastily that it looked like an afterthought meant to make him feel uncomfortable. "But I would just... if I were you, I would perhaps say that Mercutio is my cousin." Of course, he looked more likely to be her cousin, even though his hair was a different shade of red. "And that he brought you in." She looked at him meaningfully.
|
|
|
Post by László on Jun 9, 2009 13:18:18 GMT -5
"Oh, sure. I don't want anyone getting in trouble," he said, getting her meaning.
"I actually sort of...sneaked in, to be honest. I wasn't sure how well Mercutio's name would work."
Speaking to someone else, he wouldn't have been so forthcoming about such a thing, but felt at ease enough here with Rosalind that he felt like he could say things like that.
|
|
|
Post by Rosalind on Jun 9, 2009 18:53:09 GMT -5
Since this was what Rosalind had expected, she was not at all surprised or judgmental, simply nodded her head. What else would Mercutio suggest. "Which way did you come?" She named a trapdoor she knew of for very plain reason and the route into the Opera that it led to, and then a different one on the other side of the Opera House. Although door-shutting was quite useless, the things she learned were extremely enjoyable, and no one really supervised the work since it mainly involved doing rounds, shutting doors, and popping in to check on the lovely old people who lived there.
|
|
|
Post by László on Jun 9, 2009 19:01:09 GMT -5
"Through one of the side-doors...it doesn't look like it's used very often."
He never would have considered a trapdoor, but the ones she told him about he filed away in his memory for later. He could try that out at another time.
|
|
|
Post by Rosalind on Jun 9, 2009 19:06:03 GMT -5
"Which one? I mean, where is it?" asked Rosalind patiently. She didn't know about as many of the doors, although sometimes she got into work with them.
|
|
|
Post by László on Jun 9, 2009 19:09:26 GMT -5
"Um...faces the alley to the...south? From the outside it's painted over, so it's hard to see."
|
|
|
Post by Rosalind on Jun 9, 2009 19:27:44 GMT -5
"I don't know which one that is," said Rosalind, with a thoughtful frown at first that blossomed into a fully-fledged, incongruous smile. She was excited to learn of yet another. And Mercutio hadn't told her! She felt a sudden pang as she recalled that she had not sought him out. She did not imagine Mercutio was still angry - could he be? - but did not imagine he was the sort of person who really noticed when his friends weren't around until he wanted to draw attention to them.
She was angry and saddened that she kept thinking of him like this. She wanted to think of him wonderfully again, and to not notice the rest. It was frightening, noticing it.
|
|
|
Post by László on Jun 9, 2009 19:34:28 GMT -5
"Well, it's not that far from here, I could show you..." He said, gesturing in the general direction.
|
|
|
Post by Rosalind on Jun 9, 2009 19:48:02 GMT -5
Rosalind nodded before her mouth caught up. "I'd like that." She wasn't even really thinking when she went on, "Have you seen Mercutio recently, or...?"
|
|
|
Post by László on Jun 9, 2009 19:54:56 GMT -5
He'd started to lead the way when she'd asked about Mercutio.
"Umm...not lately. I think the last time I saw him was here in the opera house."
|
|