In Desperation (PAFP, Semi-Advanced)

"Are you certain?" he asked, tilting his head to the side. "I- I can clean, if you wish. I was dusting a little yesterday...I could continue with that. Or neaten things up a little in here. Or sweep, if there is something I can use, although I'm a bit out of practice." He curled a lock of dark red hair around one finger, offering a hesitant smile. "I- I know those sorts of things aren't very big, but I...think it would maybe be best if I can keep busy. It'll keep me from talking too much and saying something I shouldn't again."

His smile brightened just a little at this, and he quickly began to move around the room again, dusting off shelves and wiping down the objects on them that seemed to be a bit dusty. Alistair seemed rather absorbed in this, caught up in the task at hand and hardly noticing that she was nearby. Feeling a bit more alone despite the fact that he wasn't, Alistair stopped moving as though he were terrified of breaking something, instead seeming almost graceful as he stepped from place to place, cleaning as though no one else were watching.

He ventured a wary glance toward her every so often, making sure that she was still alright, still okay with him cleaning. She didn't seem to be watching him, which he felt was a good thing. If she wasn't watching, it probably meant that she was comfortable with what he was doing, and that she wouldn't be objecting or telling him that he needed to stop. So he continued to clean, whirling around the room until he sank into the chair again. He was a littleshlrt of breath, but his eyes were bright and there was a faint smile on his lips. "Would you like me to sweep? There's not much else I can clean right now, unless you have something to sleep with."

He stood, then hesitated for a moment. "Y- yeah, I like cleaning. It makes me feel useful, you know? Like I can do something and it actually makes a difference for the better. But even beyond that, like I'm not just a dead weight. And I like feeling like that. So when people will let me, I clean." He shrugged, shifting his weight slightly. "You- you think that's weird, don't you?"

He offered a bright smile, although it only lasted a few seconds. "Th- thank you! You're very kind." Then he was in motion again, whirling around the room in search of a broom. There was none. So he cracked open the door and stepped outside, the snow cold against his bare feet. He reappeared into the house a few moments later, a snow-covered broom in his hand. He was shivering, and his feet were freezing cold, but he was smiling.

"It won't be much good like this," Alistair pointed out, beginning to approach the fire. He didn't get further than his chair, though, when he stopped and glanced at her. "Is it alright if- if I go a bit nearer to the fire? Both I ans the broom need to be warmed up, I think, before I can continue working. Is that...acceptable to you? I mean, it- it is your fire, so if you'd rather I not go any nearer, I'll stay just where I am."

He understood about half of what she spoke of—the first part did not make much sense to him. She seemed to be trying to hold in laughter, too, which only confused him further. Alistair sighed, moving closer to the fire and sitting down nearby, the broom in front of him, so they both could thaw. "I- I am careful," he said softly. "I know what it feels like to be burned, Apphia...you needn't warn me."

For a little while, Alistair sat in silence, feeling himself slowly beginning to warm up. Eventually, though, he glanced back over his shoulder toward Apphia, a little surprised that she had let him just stay there without talking. Trying to perhaps have some semblance of conversation, he asked, "Did- did you ever have any siblings? I- I realize it is a rather sudden question, but I- I do not think you have mentioned any yet and I...I would like to know."

Alistair was silent for a moment, mulling this over. "You- you could have tried harder," he said softly. "I- I know it's strange of me to be saying anything considering my own relations with- with Cael, but...there is a difference between simple dislike and actual ill will, no? It would be a shame to let relationships with your family fade just because you do not particularly like one another." His gaze fell to his hands. "Feel free to tell me why I'm wrong, though. I- I know nothing of your life."

"But how will you ever know unless you try? Surely you aren't going to just give up, are you? Just- just letting yourselves drift apart because you don't want to try something...I- I don't think that's right. Because if you don't try anything, you- you don't gain anything but you lose what could have been, and if you do try, you have nothing to lose and much to gain." He froze for a moment, realizing just how much he had said and whose house he was in. "Forgive me," he added, his voice much softer. "I- I spoke out of turn."