lost and found » cian

Cian had spent the past few nights at the cabin. Although the full moon had been a couple of nights prior he still could feel the aftereffects of the transformation playing on him. He had thought when he was younger that it would get easier over time. His father and others had told him so. In a sense, they had been right, he knew better what to expect, the pain, the discomfort, but honestly, he doubted that anyone other than himself could truly know that no matter how many months, no matter how many years that he had been living with his condition, each full moon felt just as uncomfortable, just as disorientating as the first, if not more so. He could have sworn he had bounced back quicker from them when he was younger. He had, hazy memories though they were, of waking up the morning after and feeling only slightly groggy. Now the grogginess could last for days after, causing his mind to feel like a heavy fog was resting on it. Cian could only describe it as cotton wool packing his brain, or a foggy film when he tried to focus on anything on these days.

It was this that was perhaps the most frustrating. The pain he could cope with, the pain he could understand, but when he prized himself so highly on having a clear enough mind to do his job, it could be more frustrating when any attempt at reading caused the words to melt on the very papers he needed to go through. The cabin was great for the peace and quiet it allowed him. Secluded in a dense pine forest on the verge of a large lake, there were wards up to prevent any muggle coming across him caught mid-transformation on the lake shore. However, the peace and quiet also didn’t help with the clarity. Instead, it only made him struggle all the more. He was more tempted to crawl back on to the sofa or into his bed and sleep away yet another day when there was nothing or no one around him to keep him on his guard and it also wasn’t in Cian’s nature to want or enjoy doing this.

So, still feeling like he was suffering from a horrible hangover, he had showered and made himself look somewhat presentable in a pair of jeans, boots, a long-sleeved grey t-shirt and a deep green hoodie and had made his way to the village. Little had he known when he had been at school, that his father had had a cabin so close by, he had learned that this was where Elliott had stayed on nights when he had come to Hogwarts to see him. Little had he known what detail his father had gone into upon that moment that they had meant the summer before his fourth year when they had both learned that he would be would the one to take care of a freshly bitten werewolf. Cian was grateful beyond words now for all the other man had done, even for the security of having somewhere to come on the roughest of full moons when the moon crested for longer. Coming into the winter months, the cabin would become more regularly used not just for this reason.

***
The cafe had been warm and leaf garlands hung around to signal the change in season and the approach of Halloween. Cian appreciated the accents of gold and orange as he had moved past them to sit down proceeding to take out the papers and books he had been attempting to read at the cabin. Generally the company of other people near to the full moon set him on edge, however after the full moon it was catching glances at others staring at him, no doubt taking note of how pale and drawn he looked. Thankfully his energy went to focusing on what he had to read and not anyone else’s ability to spot a werewolf only a foot from them. His mind was too hazy and he was too tired to care. At least the irregular sounds around him such as the coffee machine working or the chatter of people and the door opening and closing could serve as background noise, and the awareness that he was in public could hopefully help to force him to re-direct his focus to where it needed to go.

He had found himself settling a lot easier into his work the longer he sat in the familiar spot. It had taken a while for him to find what was in his opinion the best seat in the café, at least for what he wanted to do. None of the sounds were as harsh over here and he managed to stay out of most people’s eye line. Which worked particularly well for the days he had come in prior to the full moon when his energy was a lot more heightened and along with it the risk of getting into an argument. He had never come to the café solely for this purpose, and certainly not long enough to find an adequate seat until he had found himself doing so after the full moon one morning. It seemed like a lifetime ago now, when he had been greeted with brown eyes and the plea for a conversation that Cian had reluctantly accepted. Now, months later, things were very different. Joel Abrams seemed no longer interested in having a conversation, instead Cian was met with a polite greeting, some small talk when it seemed he had nothing else to excuse him from Cian’s company and little else. Cian had thought he had detected a shift in the atmosphere between them following Joel’s visit to him whilst inebriated although he wondered if this might have only been his imagination. Nevertheless, Cian had tried, on occasion to talk to Joel, make conversation, but each time he was met with the solemn reminder that they no longer knew eachother like they once had. Every time it somehow felt just as hurtful as the first.

Today had passed by like most others, Cian had asked for a latte in an attempt to wake himself up a little and help his focus, and to save himself being sick, he had requested a sandwich, but he didn’t have much of an appetite so he’d favoured the coffee over the sandwich. It had helped to perk him up a little and although still figuring that he looked like he should be back lying in bed, he had managed to get into a good work flow and drown out the noises and chatter around him.

He was so deeply focused by this point that he barely registered the shutters coming down on the shop, or that the voice that sounded just then was directed at him. It was footsteps and a shadow coming into his periphery that caused him to look up, reaching up to remove his glasses just then and feeling his heart do an unanticipated skip as his eyes landed on Joel’s face, locking as best they could on deep brown eyes.

“You can stay awhile, if you like,” Joel spoke in the same light tone Cian realised he used with everyone he spoke to in the shop. Cian looked to the front of the shop and felt a faint heat at the realisation he was now the last here. He had been attempting to not be, assuming from the last time they were on their own together that the other man didn’t enjoy being solely in his company. Up until now he had always made sure he had never been the last to leave, mostly to save Joel feeling like he had to speak to him. Almost immediately, the thought struck Cian that perhaps this was a test. He wasn’t sure what the right answer might be, or why Joel might want to test him, but it was there as hazel eyes searched brown for a moment before the other man added, “I’ve a meeting at eight so you’ll have to be gone by then, but for the next hour you’ll have the place to yourself. Nice and quiet, just how you like it,” and then Joel smiled, although in the mind state that he was in, Cian couldn’t tell if it was genuine or just one borne from politeness. He opened his mouth to speak before clearing it as nothing came out from lack of use. When he did speak, his voice was gravelly almost to the point of hoarse as he asked, a hint of surprise just evident amidst it, “you don’t mind if I stay?” he added softly, “I was actually getting into good flow with this. . .” and he gestured to the journal he had just been reading.

He felt his heart pick up for a moment, registering the feeling of being acutely self-aware, not just for the fact he sounded like his voice box had been replaced with a rusty chainsaw, or how ill he might look. Unlike others he had encountered in the café, Joel never commented on all of the above. At times Cian was grateful, more than often, he was grateful, it was a testament to how things had changed, his condition could be overlooked, it could be pushed to the side and he could pretend that it didn’t govern his life. At other times, he couldn’t help but feel something hollow in his chest as the brief thought passed by that no longer was he something to be considered by the other man, least of all his condition. It was this that caused the faint pink tinge on his cheeks despite his pale complexion just then, the reminder that he was just a customer, just another human that inhabited the café for a short period of time like any of the other punters around. There was no longer an interest from the other man, or any need for Cian to explain himself, least of all the fresh scars just visible above his t-shirt and hoodie collars. Small, light scars that Cian had almost but not quite forgotten about. He fought the urge to reach up just then to cover his neck, hoping that by not doing so he wouldn’t draw any more attention to them.

TAG: JOEL ABRAMS
NOTES: anything needs changed, just shout <3
OUTFIT: light blue jeans, grey long-sleeved shirt, deep green plain hoodie, boots
DATE: OCTOBER 2039

Cian felt the uncomfortable, flushed feeling grow as he watched the smile that had formed on Joel’s face to his question only fade as he added that he had found a good flow with his reading. He wondered if it was a combination of lack of sleep, the coffee he had consumed and the fact that day was turning to night: the time when his energy levels were returning, that caused him to overthink this small action just then, or whether it was because of the small voice in his head just then that told him he had just said something wrong, the part that seemed to grow louder with doubt any time he tried to approach the other man, or speak to him. The part of him that was a constant, no matter what time of the moon cycle it was.

“Well, don’t let me disturb you,” the smile was back, this time softer, on the former Hufflepuff’s lips and Cian tried his best to return it. He tried to hold the gaze of brown eyes just then but found his eyes dipping to the man’s lips as they moved, registering that the fogginess was still there despite the coffees he’d consumed. He took in Joel’s stance just then, although unintentionally, it somehow stood out to him that despite the offer, there seemed to be a protective quality to the way Joel stood just then. It was funny how his entire day had been spent trying to focus on words on a page and now Cian couldn’t find himself able to focus on anything but the reasons why Joel should want to protect himself from him. Again, as he had been every time he had tried to speak to Joel over the past while, Cian was reminded that he Joel considered him someone to keep a distance from. Cian felt the equally familiar sinking sensation in his chest that followed this thought but instead of dwelling on it, he did his best to focus on Joel’s lips and the words the other man chose to speak and not the sense of discomfort Cian seemed to gather from the way the man stood.

“I’ll keep an eye on the time and let you know five minutes before I need you to vacate.” Cian felt his own soft smile falter and fade before he felt himself nod, it seemed the best thing to do. He realised as he did so that he had been thinking perhaps this had been an attempt at the other man initiating a conversation that was more than just the brief small talk they had shared up until now. Cian had to remind himself that Joel was at work, he was only doing his job, he had to be polite, he had to seem like he was being hospitable. Although, Cian thought, he only had to if there was company around. There was no need for niceties now they were the only ones here. Cian stopped himself from thinking further on it, it wouldn’t leave him feeling any better to try to understand if it was the other man being polite just because he was a polite person or if he wanted to be polite to Cian in particular. He doubted it mattered, Joel had made it clear where he stood.

“I’ll just be milling around but I’ll try to keep the noise to a minimum,” Joel added and although Cian knew he should probably respond with something, he wasn’t sure what. He had come to the café for the noise, as much as he didn’t like being around people around the full moon, it helped him to focus to have the sound of other people going about theire lives as he worked. It helped break the silence that he was likely to doze off in were he in the cabin by himself. Yet he didn’t speak and soon enough Joel had spoken again, this time asking a question that needed to be addressed. “Can I get you a refill first?”

Cian glanced to his half empty mug of coffee and felt himself shake his head, his eyes returned to Joel’s face a moment before he replied in a scratchy voice, “no, it’s okay. . .thanks.” the words nearly didn’t sound in parts and were no louder than a whisper here and there, but in the quiet café he figured Joel would hear him easily enough, “I shouldn’t be drinking anymore, not if I actually want to sleep tonight,” a soft breath escaped his nose as he managed a bare smile, his eyes lingering only for a moment longer on Joel’s face before he stole a glance to his papers admitting softly, “I was only drinking it to help me wake up a bit. . .” he glanced back to Joel, again attempting a smile and managed a small half-smile as he felt his cheeks flush.

As his eyes found Joel’s just then, he felt what could only be described as a tugging sensation in the centre of his chest, an ache as he wondered if this was too much information for the other man, if he was oversharing unnecessarily. Joel had not asked why he was drinking coffee, he hadn’t asked for an explanation for why Cian wouldn’t want anymore, Cian had taken it upon himself just to say, and as was the case when Cian found himself giving an answer or response that didn’t seem necessary, he felt a flicker of embarrassment creep through him. And yet, he found himself adding all the same, “but, if you’re offering to make up a drink. . .could I maybe get a tea?. . .Chamomile might be a better idea now. Please?” He swallowed after speaking, his throat feeling dry as hazel eyes held brown just then. He had the strong desire to ask other questions than the one he had just posed but something told him he probably shouldn’t. There was a time and a place and none of their interactions since the night Joel had spent the night on his couch hinted that the other man wanted to talk about things other than drink orders and other topics including but not limited to the weather. Cian was trying to respect this.

“Sure. No problem,” came the light reply and Cian held brown eyes for a moment before Joel turned his head and crossed the shop. Cian felt his request lingering on his tongue and with it the familiar discomfort from sharing more information than he needed. Perhaps he had asked too much. It was a familiar feeling for him, he didn’t like to come across as needing anything really, and put in the context of his condition and the negative effects it had on him, he felt even more determined not to come across as needing. Even if it was as simple as asking for a cup of tea. Cian rarely asked for help, not because he judged anyone who did but more for the fact that for almost a decade, he had managed to keep on top of everything that his lycanthropy entailed, what his life entailed. It wasn’t so much bred from not needing it as more a habit of just getting on with things himself. Of course, this wasn’t always possible. Despite what his appearances might seem, this was a relatively straight-forward recovery for him and he supposed that if a cup of tea was all that he asked for then it wasn’t so bad.

He watched as Joel started to make up his drink for a moment before tearing his gaze away to reach over to his wallet, getting out some knuts to pay for it when Joel returned. He eyes trailed to his journal that lay open on the chapter he had been reading Werewolves and the correlation between lunar cycle shifts in the Northern Hemisphere compared to the Southern hemisphere. It was interesting reading and although he had thought he would work on a little longer he closed it over deciding that it was probably best he gave his mind a break. He started packing away his glasses in their case and was in the process of returning his papers to the bag he had brought with him when Joel returned with his tea on a tray.

“Here you go,” Cian offered him a soft smile, finding his eyes lingering on Joel’s pulse point on his neck, unintentionally listening to the quicker thud of the former Hufflepuff’s heart. He lowered his gaze as soon as he registered that he was staring and looked to the tray, watching Joel unload it. He had watched him do so a number of times over the past few months, watched how the other man held a conversation with whoever's table he was at, how he greeted them and knew exactly what they had ordered how he could make them smile with his charm. He had watched it all and felt little flickers of what he could only describe as jealousy surface at the sight. As ugly a feeling as it was, it didn't leave Cian feeling ugly for feeling it, instead it was a feeling that quickly morphed into others and caused an ache in his chest. Even if he could tell himself that these were only customers, if didn't make the ache for wanting to be on the other side of a warmer-than-polite smile from the brunette even less so.

He frowned at the honey bottle before Joel clarified and Cian looked up at him, unable to hide the surprise from his eyes just then. His heart did a strange jolt in his chest, as if it had forgotten to beat for a moment and he swallowed hoping that when he did speak, his voice would actually sound, “thank you. . .that’s really thoughtful of you.” He muttered his thoughts out loud. Eyes lifting to Joel’s and lingering, finding himself in the brief moment between speaking and Joel speaking trying to ascertain whether this was something Joel would do for anyone in the café. As the brunette spoke, Cian realised with another sinking feeling that it probably was. Still, he appreciated the gesture none-the-less.

“Shall I get rid of these for you?” Joel asked simply in a light tone that suggested to Cian that the other man had little interest in moving away from purely polite conversation and doing his job. “Want me to bag your sandwich up so you can take it with you?” He was half tempted to nod and accept the offer but caught himself just in time, shaking his head gently, admitting in as clear a voice as he could manage, “no thanks, I’m not hungry.”

He glanced to the sandwich, he’d picked out most of the meat from it, but as was the case following the full moon, he had only felt like he was eating for the sake of eating. This wasn’t out of the ordinary, his appetite was considerably higher before the full moon, and only on rare occasions did this translate to just after the full moon too. Most of the time, it was a struggle to find the motivation to eat following a rough night and going on his second day without having ate much yesterday, he still didn’t have much of a stomach for anything. His appetite would come back though, it always did. He gave Joel another polite smile but it only lingered for a moment before he forced himself to reach out to pour himself some tea, reaching over for the honey bottle and squirting some in. He stirred it steadily as his eyes slid back to Joel, watching him for a moment before he heard the question trail from his mouth, “how have you been?”

It was a simple question, Cian figured Joel would probably see it as such. It certainly wasn’t the first time Cian had asked it since the last time they were on their own together, but since then he had been met with brief, polite answers. He wondered if now, with no one else around, he might be treated to a slightly more detailed response than “okay”. . . at least, he hoped. Either way, he hoped that by allowing him a short while longer in the café Joel wouldn’t mind if he made yet another attempt at trying for a conversation, at least, if he didn’t then Cian figured that would be an answer in itself. There were other questions he could ask, but he figured he was better playing it safe for now, something that was more familiar to him than most might think.

TAG: JOEL ABRAMS
NOTES: anything needs changed, just shout <3
OUTFIT: light blue jeans, grey long-sleeved shirt, deep green plain hoodie, boots
DATE: OCTOBER 2039

Cian gently pulled his cup of tea closer to himself, the index finger and thumb playing idly with the handle of the cup as he looked up into Joel’s face, trying his best not to let it look like he was hoping for an answer and instead trying for a casual air. Yet as was the case with every other time he had asked, he hoped. He hoped that he wouldn’t see a distance in those eyes, one he had come to see every time they rested on him. Hoped that they wouldn’t search for something else in the room, something else to do, someone else to serve, he knew the latter was impossible but the former was still a possibility. He hoped that he would get more than just a brief answer. Yet despite his hope, when Joel replied, he managed a gentle yet brief smile. He nodded once, hazel eyes searching brown momentarily unbidden and felt a flicker of something in his chest. Despite the brief response, there was a softness to the quality that he hadn’t heard in Joel’s voice before. Then again, perhaps he had just imagined it. Still, he heard himself reply gently, “good, that’s good.” His eyes lingered on Joel’s face for a moment before lowering to the cup before him.

“You?”

Cian had just been about to lift the mug to his lips when Joel had spoke. He faltered, an automatic response forming on his tongue, just like all the other times before, when he had felt himself being dismissed despite the same question being posed. Yet this time, he faltered, Joel was still standing there, granted there was no one else to steal his attention, but Cian realised he had still expected the other man to find one. He fought with part of himself that still wanted to give the automatic response, the simple response. Joel was just being polite, he had no interest in really knowing how he was. . .and yet.

“I’ve been better.” Cian cleared his throat, the worse sounding raspy as his index finger lightly stroked the side of his cup. He thought about explaining how the full moon was a couple of nights ago, but he wondered if Joel wanted to hear about it. Afterall, he wouldn’t say it to a stranger, and for all intents and purposes Joel and himself were estranged. Cian made it a rule to never give more information than was asked of him. Even at a young age he had been told, if people didn’t want to know about you, they wouldn’t ask, and few people did. But even if Joel had never had to ask, the rule had never applied to Joel, just to everyone else. Joel was still Joel, even if years and pain had separated them, even if Cian knew that the man standing before him was very different to the boy he had fallen in love with. He was still Joel.

“I don’t bounce back from the full moons like I used to.” He heard himself admit, voice barely above the whisper that his throat would allow but no less honest. “It’ll pass,” he added softly, his gaze lowering briefly to his cup, nodding gently and pursing his lips in a reserved smile as his eyes lifted to find Joel’s face.  It was a thought that had been crossing his mind for a while and seemed to surface more as of late, after every full moon when his recovery period dragged for longer than he wished.  He found himself frustrated because after three days his muscles would still be aching, or the insomnia had yet to lift.  There were days when the anxiety became so overbearing that he had to double the usual potions he took for it.  Sleeping potions and pain potions and ones to take off the edge.  Fortunately he could be sure that it would pass, as sure as the full moon would return in another twenty-five days, Cian could be sure that he'd need more than just the wolfsbane potion to manage things.  He had never needed so many, while at school he had slept off the pain and potions in less than a day, now his healing time wasn't so short and there was the fear at the back of his mind that as he grew older, it would only take longer and it was a fear, he couldn't seem to shake.

He felt a tugging in his chest as his eyes met the other man’s, lips parting about to say something else before he changed his mind, instead stating, “I meant to say, but I haven’t seen you ‘til now, Happy Birthday Joel." He held Joel's gaze, his eyes searching Joel's for a moment before he asked, "Did you have a good one?”

After he had spoken, reminding himself more so than informing Joel that the symptoms he was having just then and experienced as a result of his lycanthropy would pass, Cian had not expected anything more to be said. He was happy – as he was for most things relating to himself – to just be left well enough alone. Yet when Joel spoke, he couldn’t help but feel a flicker of something in his chest. “I’d say you should probably be resting and not studying but that never worked for me before so I don’t see why it should now.” Cian looked back at Joel for a moment, the resigned smile that had formed shifting and fading as he looked back at Joel, acutely aware of how the man wasn’t looking at him just then, instead focusing on the tray in his hands. Something in Cian tensed, a defensive voice springing to the fore but Cian caught it just in time, too tired to rise to the wolf’s bait silencing it’s remark that Joel didn’t know what he needed. It might have been right but few people knew what he needed, even Cian and he hadn’t come here to argue about something he couldn’t change. He realised, as hazel eyes lingered on the profile of the older man that the tension wasn’t only from the wolf. Part of him was reminded of moments long ago where he had done his best to fight against any advice to rest following a full moon. It caused an ache in his chest as he remembered more recent words that had tumbled from those soft lips, words that enlightened Cian to the idea that the brunette before him had never thought he had taken what he had said at moments in the past on board. It was in hindsight that Cian realised that just because he had, the fact that he had argued at the time, not wanting to seem like he was giving in, feeling that he needed to always come across as strong and like he knew better had probably been one of the reasons Joel had disappeared from his life in the first place. “You’re right.” He managed softly, hazel eyes lingering on Joel’s face as he added softly, “I have been resting. . .but I have work tomorrow so I’m easing myself back in to it.” All was said whilst watching Joel steadily but he was keen to change the topic from himself just then, not wanting to linger on the thing that made him feel less human let alone different.

He felt a flicker of relief when Joel looked back at him, allowing him to change the subject and seemingly surprised that Cian would wish him a happy birthday, even if it was belated.  

"Thanks,” he was met with a small smile and a shrug which Cian had come to recognise as the precursor to Joel opening up a little bit more and the other man did, “From what I remember, yeah.” Cian raised a brow, unable to fight the curiosity that flickered across his features just then as he watched Joel’s lips move and the way he stood. “Always tell myself that next year we’ll have a nice, civilised evening but somehow we always end up with missing memories and a three-day hangover.” Cian listened to the light tone and the way Joel’s heart skipped briefly over certain parts as he spoke. He found his own heart beating a subtle rhythm in his chest, skipping when he heard Joel’s shift and Cian felt another tug of what he recognised as that same jealous feeling that he got when he observed Joel talking candidly with others. He had the realisation now that it wasn’t perhaps jealousy that he felt, but longing. He was again reminded of a time when they were younger when he could have sat and listened to Joel chattering away about nothing in particular or everything he could think of. How he would have stared at him, registering the same way that his heart would skip at certain inflections in the other boy’s tone just like it was now. The reminder caused a sharp ache in Cian’s chest just then and he felt his gaze be pulled to the mug before him, unable to pinpoint why he felt shameful just then for wanting to hold on to that feeling again. He couldn’t kid himself that Joel was chattering to him now like he had done all those years ago, and he couldn’t kid himself into thinking that he deserved it. “Maybe next year, eh?" Joel added just then, and Cian nodding, slowly forcing his eyes up to see Joel’s smile and feeling stuck. He thought about making some remark along the lines of knowing exactly what three-day hangovers were like something to maybe connect their experience, even if it wasn't necessarily the same but he second guessed himself just then, telling himself that Joel probably wasn't inviting him to make any such comment and that it would just seem like he was bringing himself back into the focus of the conversation so instead he managed to return the smile as best he could, repeating Joel’s words back to him, “maybe next year.” Before the question tumbled from his lips, “do you like more civilised evenings, more quiet things now?” It wasn’t something he had thought he wanted to know, or something he thought he questioned about Joel. But clearly by asking he knew part of him wanted to know.

If Cian had to choose, he would always choose something with the least fuss, particularly for his birthday. Except for his family’s insistence on celebrating with a party for him, he was just as happy to go out for a few drinks or a meal with ROBIN WILEY . The less fuss in celebrating himself getting older, the better. Perhaps this stemmed from when he was younger and only having a birthday gift given to him with a card and a hug, no party, certainly no cake, but Cian felt very unceremonious about his own birthdays. And yet, although a party was always expected by his family, each and every year, it surprised Cian to the point where he needed a little time to process that there was any sort of fuss around him. He was a little surprised that Joel would want something quiet, given that the man had no problem working a room, in Cian’s opinion. Though, perhaps just because you were good with people and sociable, it didn’t mean you wanted to be sociable. Cian realised just then that his mind was overthinking this a little bit too much and so he took a slow sip of his tea, gaze on Joel as he wondered if the other man would even answer his question.

As he lowered the cup from his lips Cian rationalised with himself that there was no reason for Joel to answer him. At least not an answer that could be considered in depth. He found himself expecting and accepting this as he recognised the look of indecision in Joel’s eyes that the man was most likely just going to shrug and give him a generic response. In the short moments before Joel did shrug, Cian found the familiar voice in his mind telling him a shrug and an impersonal response was what he deserved. He felt himself resigning himself to this until Joel did shrug and the sinking feeling in his chest told him that he had hoped for a little more.

However, as Joel spoke, Cian felt the disappointment in his chest make way for something else. He listened as Joel gave what seemed to be an honest and not entirely impersonal answer and even felt himself nodding to show he was listening and feeling a tug in his chest as his eyes dipped without warning to the soft smile Joel offered him just then. He found himself inadvertently watching Joel’s lips as the man continued, faintly aware of a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach as Joel spoke about sharing a bottle of wine over a meal and realised as silence fell that perhaps this was a subtle reminder that they were, and would remain, on either side of a large wall. A reminder that any space that Cian had once filled was replaced by years of absence and someone else. A painful reminder, Cian remembered, that Joel had someone else and whatever they were to Joel would be more that Cian could ever be; a thought he had barely acknowledged had any effect on him until he felt the tug of disappointment.

Cian looked back at Joel, lifting his gaze to meet the former Hufflepuff’s eyes before he managed a faint smile, trying for politeness but feeling the distance between them. Nevertheless, he managed softly, “yeah. . .I’m not really a fan of clubs. . .” he admitted unprovoked before adding, “but I guess the hangovers find me all the same.”

He had done his best following the night he had ended up at the hospital with Joel after panicking around New Years to try to reduce the Friday nights (and other weekday nights) he would go clubbing. It had been a habit since graduation to go out and find himself in the middle of some city, in a club, trying to drink and dance away the restless energy the wolf seemed to generate. At first it had started because he had had no control but soon it turned into a coping mechanism, a way of trying to keep control, a deal with the darker part of him so he could hold on to the memories from the night. As was the case with any coping mechanism, especially one that spanned over a decade; it hadn’t been the easiest at first to change and especially for the first month when the nights had come around after a long shift or when he had felt the rush of energy that generally stemmed panic in him, he had had to fight the urge to just give in. Instead, he had taken up running, although nearly a year into this, Cian wasn’t entirely sure whether this choice was better or just the same as going to a club, or ending up in a stranger’s bed, or smoking. Some would argue it was decidedly better, but after waking up having ran for hours in the middle of the night, he still felt that sinking feeling that he was still at the will of something greater than himself and he still felt the tug to return to any one of the previous ways he had managed that feeling in the past. In those moments, he reached out to his father, glad that that Elliott was generally good at picking up his phone to Cian. He could at least argue that going to the gym and running had made him considerably more toned, if slightly on the thinner side than normal, it did nothing to make turning each full moon any easier, and he sometimes thought he looked a lot older than he should with grey hairs sprinkled through his hair already just about his ears and at the back of his head, but at least his hangovers were reserved for 2-3 days a month now, not every weekend like they had been.

“At least I know now they aren’t self-inflicted,” he added softly, managing a bear smile, the corner of his mouth twitching faintly and briefly upwards before glanced to his tea. “Kind of,” he quickly corrected himself, nose crinkling faintly before he lifted his cup to his lips, glancing to Joel. He felt the urge to ask him something more, anything more, feeling the pull to hear his voice again, to test if Joel was really having a conversation with him because the man was open to it, or if he was just being polite, but as he thought this, he realised with a sinking feeling that Joel was probably only entertaining him so Cian could leave quicker and the man could get back to his work and he felt his hand reach up to instinctively rub just over the bridge of his nose where his glasses had been, feeling momentarily self-conscious.

TAG: JOEL ABRAMS
NOTES: anything needs changed, just shout <3
OUTFIT: light blue jeans, grey long-sleeved shirt, deep green plain hoodie, boots
DATE: OCTOBER 2039

Cian was aware of a warmth prickling his cheeks as he realised with slight discomfort that he had once again brought his condition into the fore. It wasn’t generally something that he did. Of course it served a strong basis for most of his knowledge in work, it was something he lived with everyday and experienced the consequences of no just during the full moons, but it wasn’t something that he generally initiated conversations about or engaged in outside of work or family if he could help it. This wasn’t something he generally had to think about. Not talking about what he was wasn’t particularly difficult. Except for days like today, for the most part, one generally couldn’t assume that he was what he was. There were plenty of reasons for this; his own desire to keep himself to himself, the fact that his condition was personal to him, and something he dealt with -for the most part- in private, but it had a large part to do with his own safety. Since the moment he had been bitten, Cian had learned that what he was came with consequences, it came with an underlying level of fear and he saw this mirrored back to him in work when he had to share the diagnosis with his patients. Different people took the news in very different ways, some were angry, others were accepting. Cian wished he could be the latter but years down the line, it was still a struggle. He would generally never speak openly about his condition outside the comfort of his own home and yet, here he was, practically telling Joel how hard it was to recover. Yet, even with the underlying current of panic that rested somewhere just below his heart in the centre of his chest from this, there was a familiar ache also to be felt in the act of explaining something.

Cian forced himself to lift his gaze from his mug just then trying to shake the insecurity he felt just then and caught Joel’s eye. The man offered him a small and sympathetic smile and Cian felt his heart ache as in that moment he was transported back to warm kitchens, Joel sitting next to him, hot chocolate before them and a smile just like that on a younger Joel’s face. Cian now pursed his lips, his own attempt at a grateful smile, much like the one he had had years before, the instinct still to hide his teeth strong from the memory. It was thankfully a habit he had grown out of but still popped up in moments like this, when he felt self-conscious.

Relief trickled through him as Joel took it upon himself to speak commenting how hangovers of any kind were not one of those things that got better the more you did them. Cian felt a tug of grim amusement at this, a soft breath briefly escaping his nose before he nodded his agreement. “I’d be a pro,” he tried for some humour just then before slowly lifting his gaze to give Joel a faint but somewhat appreciative smile. His expression faltered as he saw Joel’s eyes dip to his neck and felt his throat dry again as the scars on his neck prickled against the material of his clothes. Cian felt his cheeks flush, the urge to redirect the subject returning to the front of his mind. He shifted slightly, clearing his throat and lifted his cup once again to his lips, taking a long sip to ease his scratchy throat. As if sensing his discomfort the former Hufflepuff looked away, his eyes moving over the café and inadvertently affording Cian a moment to ground himself. His mind was still busy trying to think of a way to change the subject without coming across as rude or ruining what progress he had seemingly made up to now when Joel spoke again, posing a question that didn’t necessarily take the topic of himself completely but that was a lot easier to distance himself from.

“Oh,” Cian reached over for the journal that was still sitting, closed but not yet packed away in his satchel and as he did, he had the small thought at the back of his mind that if Joel was asking a question, he wasn’t trying to finish or get out of talking to him. The thought alone caused Cian to feel a little lighter as he stated unnecessarily, “it’s a journal.” He pulled the book slightly closer, setting his cup down with his other hand to cover up his wrist which he had inadvertently exposed just then with his hoodie sleeve as he read the title, hoping that Joel had not caught a glimpse of the scars on the bare piece of skin.

“Werewolves and the correlation between lunar cycle shifts in the Northern Hemisphere compared to the Southern Hemisphere.” He glanced to Joel, “I picked it up from the library in work, it’s an easy enough read, interesting enough.” He looked to Joel, realising as hazel eyes met brown he was almost about to go into a detailed summary about just want the journal covered and how it was interesting, and the arguments he had for and against it. It was a sign that his mind was becoming a little more awake now, which was both a good and bad thing, but it was also another painful reminder of a time long since gone when having those eyes on him would have spurred a younger version of himself to recount with crisp detail something he had just read. He felt a dull ache in his chest as he noticed himself holding back from doing this now, “it’s a pretty open conversation, and I haven’t got to the findings yet, but so far, it’s posing a lot of questions.” He settled on, feeling the warmth linger on his cheeks as he looked back at Joel betraying a soft smile, happy for the subject change and hoping he hadn’t just killed the conversation entirely.

TAG: JOEL ABRAMS
NOTES: anything needs changed, just shout <3
OUTFIT: light blue jeans, grey long-sleeved shirt, deep green plain hoodie, boots
DATE: OCTOBER 2039