Martyrdom and Suicide [Psyche]

[Psyche]

Simon’s expression softened as Nora stepped forward to accept his unspoken request. The click of the door latching closed seemed to echo with significance. Again, he felt himself foolish and uncomfortable, all of his former composure vanishing as his lady ventured into the room. She sat on the bed beside him, and his eyes widened (the only movement he had dared to make since her entrance). At her gentle tone, he allowed himself to rest against the headboard, though every muscle still tensed in uncertainty. If one of the others had dared open the door, he would be across the room in an instant.
He wondered if Nora was aware how very suggestive this all would seem to an outsider. How it seemed, even to him. He knew she had never regarded her reputation with much consequence, but this… A pained expression crossed him, and, in his preoccupation, he did not attempt to hide it. If word got around that there was anything amiss, even in rumor, it would mean the end of them both.
She began to apologize, haltingly, before abandoning the attempt altogether. He was uncomfortably aware of the chasm between them. How the years had changed them. He recalled the days in childhood they had spent, the three of them, inseparable. The secrets, the adventures, the carelessness and freedom of youth. It had happened slowly: the games had turned to memory and the memories to pain. He looked at them now and could hardly recognize himself in the bold, radiant boy who had spent his days without fear of rejection or failure. He had been himself, then, unconcerned and unchanged by anyone’s expectations but his own.
Propriety was lauded as the quality of a superior race. More than anything, he felt crippled by it. It was uncouth, childish even, for one to express anything other than a precise and composed decorum, but how evolved could he possibly be if he couldn’t even reach out in kindness and love to one in such desperate need of it? With dismay, he realized tears had sprung into Nora’s eyes, and he wrapped his arms around her… Ashamed that it had taken so much to compel him. The action was awkward and he measured her movements carefully, ready to release her at the faintest sign of rejection. To his overwhelming relief, the tension in her gave way, and he found himself placing a protective arm around her still quaking shoulder as he shifted her face to his chest where she would not have to be ashamed for the tears. Between the apology and her willingness to be consoled, he was stunned into silence.
”It’s nothing,” he said distractedly, completely misunderstanding the aim of her apology. The affair with Taylor had troubled him for days, and though it struck him as odd that she would speak to him directly, it had never occurred that she had done anything else worth remorse. ”It’s my fault,” he said, conciliating. ”I should have been there. Maybe I would have been able to stop things from turning out this way...” He brushed her lightly with his thumb, reluctant to push his luck, but unable to completely restrain himself against years of not daring to hope for this very opportunity. He wanted to explain to everything. He wanted to apologize for years of undue coldness.
”What ever happened?” he wondered aloud. ”When did things become so complicated?

[Stockmon]

What did Nora really care by now what someone saw her do? What could she care? She had already realized and accepted that anyone seeing her in the situation, living with these men, would ruin her reputation. She was in a state that nothing she could do would make it worse. She could kiss Simon and honestly it wouldn’t change anything, because people would already speculate that, if they found out. But why would she kiss Simon? That would be absurd, but it would still make her blush to think about. Not even imagine, but simply think of the idea.

She didn’t see Simon’s eyes widening, or his tension. Everything was tense, what would it do to notice Simon in his normal state? She was not in her normal state, but him…? He was always tense. Wasn’t he? She could no longer thing of it as a problem that needed fixed when she started thinking of it as just how he was. If word got around that Nora was involved with Simon, she supposed she would discuss with him his preference on handling the situation. Beyond that, she wasn’t sure. Maybe… no, she wouldn’t get involved, that was foolish. She might move away, if she thought Nathaniel could handle the estate on his own. But then… why not just stay here? Live in the basement and ignore the world.

Nora was surprised at Simon’s arms around her, and the sudden, inappropriate comfort startled her. She tensed up, but she slowly allowed herself to remember the emotions that have driven her into the room in the first place and she relaxed. It was still, no doubt, inappropriate for them to share such a moment, but she very nearly did not care. Any concern she had was overshadowed by she surprising warmth of being close to Simon as she willed herself to stop crying. Instead of being able to steel herself against her weakness, she was pulled closer and her head rested against Simon’s chest. Wholly inappropriate, of course, the voice kept reminding her, but as she’d learned from her time with Taylor, times changed. Maybe she should allow herself more leniency, allow Simon more as well.

“It’s nothing, it’s my fault, I should have been there. Maybe I would have been able to stop things from turning out this way…” Simon said. What…? Should have been there? For your mother? For Andrew? Probably… You had reasons, I am sure, we discussed… some of this… she sniffled quietly, bringing a hand to her face to dry her eyes, and feeling Simon’s thumb moving against her shoulder. It was gentle, and reminded her that she was, in fact, in Simon’s arms. This was bad, right? It had to be. She wrapped her arms around him eventually, going from being held to just hugging him.

“What ever happened? When did things become so complicated?” Simon asked eventually. Nora liked the silence. She didn’t want to think about that. She wanted to sit, and be calmed down, and be weak for the moment. She just wanted to be still, but he had spoken, and so she knew she would need to response. She licked her lips slightly to solve the dryness of her mouth as she tried to speak.

“I think everything has always been complicated Simon… I’m still…” she felt the rubbing of his thumb again and it seemed to lull her into security. She didn’t want to move. Moving was wrong. She needed to just sit here for once. Her body was relaxed against his, and her hands clasped behind his back. If she could just fall asleep and wake up, maybe everything would be back to normal. Maybe she could relax and all the stress and anxiety and depression would drain away. Maybe she could get close to Simon without something horrible happening. “I wish I could… stay close to you without something horrible happening… it seems like every time something goes well, everything falls apart again. If I stay here…” Did she mean here in the future, with Taylor? Here, in this room, with Simon? She wasn’t sure. She just wanted to stop shuffling around from one bad event to another, “can things just stay how they are?”

She wasn't sure what the question meant, but maybe Simon would know.

[Psyche]

Simon closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, listening to the muffled speech of their new housemates down the hall. As long as the two continued talking, he and Nora were guaranteed at least some privacy. It was all very hard to convince himself that this was not a dream. Life lately had seemed anything but real.
With a humorless laugh, he wondered which incredulity was responsible for his disbelief: being hurtled hundreds of years into the future with his brother, Nora and her lover or that he was now sitting, unresisting, in bed with his arm around the woman who was almost solely responsible for his livelihood. He wondered how long he had dreamed of holding her just as he was now. Her dark hair tumbled over his hand, and he tried to guess how she would react if he ran his fingers through it. How soft would her skin be against his lips?
He had halfway convinced himself to find out, when she began to speak again. He had never heard her speak so freely of her desires. She sounded unsteady, exhausted. He felt a slight pang of remorse for his part in her troubles. I wish I could… stay close to you without something horrible happening…
”Of course,” he said immediately, not conscious of the implications. ”You can always come to me.” At the mention of staying, he shifted. Stay where, he wondered. What they all needed was for her to return home. He had never expected to face resistance there. Weren’t they just waiting for the ‘all clear?’ He had assumed the rest of them were just as desperate to return to normalcy as he was. There was a long pause before she spoke again, as if in summary. Can things just stay how they are?
She seemed to have trailed to many subjects, her worries, no doubt, innumerable, but this, with sinking heart, he believed he understood. She had come to apologize to him for Taylor, but this had not meant all that he had hoped. Regardless of her feelings, she had to recognize, as had all along, that there could be nothing between them. Though he was selfishly glad to know that Taylor was out of the picture, it was not quite the joyous news he had at first perceived… And he couldn’t blame her. He knew as well as anyone what came of falling out of society’s graces. Therefore, with all the good will he could muster, Simon smiled.
”Yes, I understand. You know I’d do anything to see you happy.”

****

The feeling of Nora's arms around him stayed with Simon long after she departed. She had remained with him in silence for what had seemed like an eternity. When she had gotten up to leave, he waved her away with a friendly farewell, but even then his mind had not ceased to reel from the blow. The request, though he had agreed without question, had struck him so suddenly and violently that he was unable, even, to feel the loss.
What was she asking him? To back off? He had, for so long, held the role of unrequited lover that he wasn't even sure what it meant to stop. How could he? He knew he was, at times, anything but discreet... He wondered how long she had known... How long it had been straining upon her. He was ashamed and suddenly very tired. Before he had time to consider the matter further, a sharp knock tore him from his reverie. Without waiting for reply, Taylor let himself into the room, and Simon straightened.
What is up with you and Nora? The question, in all its brusqueness and timing, caught him completely off-guard. He sat for a moment, staring at the intruder as if it were a cruel jab. Had Nora gone to him? Told him that she had asked Simon to stop? Was he rubbing it in? The man's tone seemed serious, and even in his distress, Simon was annoyed by the impudence of the man. Guest or not, what right did this man have to come in and demand the nature of his personal life? Simon had no energy to spite him.
"Nothing," he answered, without emotion. "There is absolutely nothing between Nora and I." And there never will be...

[Stockmon]

Simon, for all his experience, all his interaction, all his love of Nora, could read her like a blind man. She was giving him every confidence. She was allowing herself vulnerability and all the repercussions that went with it. Instead of steeling herself against all that society might do, there she was, asking to remain with him, asking for some comfort, security, closeness, and all he could do was misinterpret it.

“Of course, you can always come to me.”

Nora relaxed slightly. It was so calming. Sitting there, she was sure she could almost hear his heartbeat. It was unfair that she was not allowed this sort of thing. Wasn’t she the one who went off, dashing society’s expectations against the rocks? Why could this not be the same? Couldn’t she… no. She could not. She had no one to do this with. Surely Simon would not want this closeness under other circumstances. When they were home, and Nathaniel was there, and they might be caught. When she was not so weak and fragile, he would feel no obligation. It would be wrong. All of those thoughts did not undo the feelings that invaded her mind. Feelings that said if she stayed a bit longer that things would be better. Feelings that insisted she was safe with Simon, and that the feeling of his hands around her should certainly make her melt back into this position, were she ever willing to find herself here again. Those feelings were dangerous.

“Yes, I understand. You know I’d do anything to see you happy.”

Just as Simon misunderstood Nora, she misunderstood him. She hugged him a small bit tighter to show his appreciation, and whispered a small, “Thank you.” It was all so weak and feminine she didn’t know what to do with herself. It was alright, for a few minutes, because it was just Simon. He seemed to think the world of her, and that meant she was safe to be vulnerable for the time being.

It took several minutes for Nora to actually get up and go. No doubt far longer than was acceptable. She had just sat there, feeling warm and somehow safe. Safe in that she didn’t have to have up every last one of her walls. Maybe only a few, maybe that was enough, for now. It was peaceful. When she had left she’d said goodnight, and gone to get Andrew. From his disagreement with Simon earlier she felt it would be nice to have Andrew sleep in the basement. If she had been sitting with Simon like that, how much worse could have a sleepover with Andrew be? The boy seemed happy to share her company, and they’d gone downstairs.

Taylor was far less content in everything. Nora was upset, Andrew was upset, and Simon was sulking. Not only was he sulking, but he was fawning, and quite obviously as well. He had noticed Nora seemed to share no secretive fawning. She seemed quite oblivious, to be honest. How she missed the cues baffled him, but he felt the need to talk to Simon. It was not that he had ill will toward Simon… exactly. Sure, he disliked the man, but Simon had a much higher chance to make Nora happy than Taylor did.

“What is up with you and Nora?” Taylor asked as he entered the room. Simon seemed to be sulking, sitting on the bed like a pained singer without his guitar. Was he really that miserable or was it self-imposed pity? He had straightened up at least, and Taylor imagined he was trying to appear less disheveled. It didn’t do anything in Taylor’s mind though.

He gave emotionless responses, “nothing. There is absolutely nothing between Nora and I.”

“That’s rich,” Taylor said without hesitation. How should he convey this? How could he get his point across without starting a fight? Probably by not mocking Simon. So that was already out of the question. “Look, you clearly feel something for her. You have a crush on her, or you’re obsessed, I can’t really tell. I’m not…” deep breath Taylor, keep calm, calm down. He hates you. He has a good reason to hate you, especially since you hurt Nora. And he’s obsessed with her. Yes, he probably has a lot of reasons to hate you. Just be gentle. “trying to upset you.” His voice came out far more impatient than he’d intended. “I’m not even trying to tell you to back off. You can… well you can make her happy, probably, if you stop being so immature.” Smooth Taylor. Really, how much more can you insult him? “Look. You hate me, I’m well aware, but I want Nora to be happy, and to be safe. She doesn’t seem to notice that you… well how you look at her. I’m surprised she doesn’t, but I guess that is just your culture. If you want to make her happy, romantically or otherwise, just be nice to her. You want to think you can only do good, I’m sure, but that’s not true. She hates me,” he suddenly sounded upset, but he was not about to get worked up in front of this, “and I don’t blame her, but she trusts you. I know how to get her attention, and if you… well could get over yourself enough, I could probably help you with that. Or maybe just take this advice… just be there for her, and maybe… be more obvious. I’m sure that’s impossible, but you could try.”

He sighed. Simon probably didn’t listen to any of this. Taylor hardly knew why he said any of it, but he had. He really did want Nora to be happy, more than he wanted to be happy. He didn’t deserve her, but she deserved someone. “Anyway, goodnight,” he said quickly. He closed the door for Simon. He didn’t want to see the rebuff, the condescension, the arrogant ignorance. He didn’t want to see any of it, or deal with it. He just went across the hall to his own room and hoped that maybe he could get some sleep that night.

[Psyche]

At the mention of Nora's name, Simon had already decided he had no interest in what was about to be said. The sheer amount of meddling the stranger had already committed was offensive. This was beyond excuse. He bore Taylor's attack without even a hint of recognition. Perhaps he was selfish, but this prying was not only unfounded, but completely in err. The fact that he had chosen now, of all times, to voice the complaint made Simon dismiss him entirely.
She doesn’t seem to notice that you… well how you look at her. Simon shook his head. Clearly she did notice. He wondered if Taylor was even remotely aware of the conversation that had taken place mere hours ago. She noticed, and she was not interested. If Taylor were even somewhat knowledgeable of the time from which they had come, he would know what he suggested to be an impossibility. He aimed to coach Simon on the intricacies of their relationship, but he was completely oblivious to even the most basic rules. He only wished it were as easy as Taylor seemed to believe.
I am nice to her, he wanted to say. I've never used her or broken her heart or run off on her. It was my arms that held her when she needed reassuring. What have you done? He respected Taylor's wish to see Nora happy. At least they had that in common. What bothered him was the stained pedestal from which he preached. He had never seen Nora more miserable than she had been of late, and, from all that he could see, the blame rested entirely with Taylor. Repentant or not, he was the cause of a great deal of the trouble. It seemed comically hypocritical that this man should now label him as immature for how he handled the aftermath.
Regardless, he had a point. Even if he could not be there for Nora in the way that he had hoped, she still needed him. When Taylor had finished, he nodded reluctantly. The man seemed content to leave without any further acknowledgement, and Simon was baffled by the strangeness of the man. Even more, he was grateful that the charade could not last forever.