It's odd to think this is the most they've spoken in almost a week. Clive nods again.
"I can make do, unless you want to take him first."
Torgal's mere presence makes the distance between them feel perilously wrong, considering how often the wolf has curled up at the foot of their bed while they made love.
"You'll have him first. I don't mind," Jill says. She hasn't been alone until she's wanted to be. Jill doubts Clive has such caring confidants available to him, and so it might be the kinder thing, to let him care for Torgal first.
It's so difficult to be anything but kind to him, even after how he's hurt her.
Relief floods him –– relief he didn't know he needed, and a fear he didn't realize he was bracing himself for. It has him drawing a sharp breath.
It's been so fucking lonely.
"If you're alright with it," he says, anyway, already imagining laying on the floor for hours with Torgal. Going for a run. Hunting. Anything, just to have company. "Thank you, Jill. I really appreciate it."
"Of course," he agrees. It is a very small apartment for a hound used to romping through the countryside. But as much as he wants to linger in the conversation, he knows she wants little to do with him, so that means clarifying: "I can take him elsewhere, if you want to enjoy this park alone."
Clive nods, keeping his distance and looking away while Jill says her goodbyes. Shame builds, but he’s growing used to it.
“Next week, then,” he says. He puts a hand out to her on reflex alone, and withdraws it before she can give him even as much as a look. “Be well, Jill.”
If Jill saw anything, she pretends she didn't, and stands straight after patting Torgal on the head.
"Next week," she says, and gives him a nod before turning around. She makes it all but four steps before Torgal is getting in front of her legs, trying to herd her back towards Clive.
Poor dog. But he's robbing her of her relief from escaping those blue eyes of Clive's.
Two hundred pounds of dire wolf doesn’t move easy, and Clive walks a narrow line between being grateful for Torgal’s loyalty and apprehensive of that loyalty making it harder on both of them.
“Jill’s going to be back before you know it,” Clive tells Torgal, kneeling down once more and putting his hands out for the beast. He has to be calm, untroubled. Firm: “But for now, with me, my friend.”
Torgal looks between Clive and Jill with what can only be described as confusion, and then sits once his eyes are on Clive's. Some level of understanding is there, because he's gone with Clive on long excursions and he's also stayed or gone with Jill, too. Perhaps this is one of those times.
Jill wishes it were. Wishes it more than anything, that at the end of the week, Clive will be in her arms and Torgal will plop down at her feet.
"All right," Jill breathes out. "I really do need to go. Let me know if he needs anything."
This time, she's able to step around him without being blocked.
“Of course,” he says, wanting to have something to need for Torgal, wanting an excuse. “I’ll see you then.”
Something to look forward to, even if it hurts.
As Jill goes, Torgal gets up off his haunches and wanders towards Clive, though he still looks back at Jill’s retreating back. Clive sinks his fingers into the thick mane of the wolf’s neck, sighing, allowing himself to look at her, too.
[Jill sees the text because her sleep is awful unless assisted by some magical candles. She reads it, groans, and lets it sit there for a good fifteen minutes before replying.]
It's all right. I told you to contact me if Torgal needed something.
I think he just needs time to adjust.
[You know, she said that about Clive countless times since they arrived here. And now they all need time to adjust to this new normal, Torgal included.]
[Even if Torgal perfectly understood the words, she doubts their furry companion would understand. Oh, but she would love to hear Clive try and explain "it" to him.]
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"We can meet here, in the morning, and trade off." A hello, a goodbye, and that's it.
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"Every week," he agrees. "And if it isn't too much trouble, I'd like to spend some time with him today, before we, ah... trade. Again."
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Torgal sits between them, happy.
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"I can make do, unless you want to take him first."
Torgal's mere presence makes the distance between them feel perilously wrong, considering how often the wolf has curled up at the foot of their bed while they made love.
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It's so difficult to be anything but kind to him, even after how he's hurt her.
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It's been so fucking lonely.
"If you're alright with it," he says, anyway, already imagining laying on the floor for hours with Torgal. Going for a run. Hunting. Anything, just to have company. "Thank you, Jill. I really appreciate it."
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She may not like him in this moment, but she's far from hating him.
"You'll want to tire him out before bringing him in."
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"Stay. I was going to go," she explains, but it's all for what he thinks: she wants little to do with him.
She'll only be counting down the days to see Torgal, she tells herself. She crouches before the sitting wolf, scratching under his chin.
"Be good, boy. I'll see you soon."
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“Next week, then,” he says. He puts a hand out to her on reflex alone, and withdraws it before she can give him even as much as a look. “Be well, Jill.”
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"Next week," she says, and gives him a nod before turning around. She makes it all but four steps before Torgal is getting in front of her legs, trying to herd her back towards Clive.
Poor dog. But he's robbing her of her relief from escaping those blue eyes of Clive's.
"To Clive, Torgal. Go."
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“Torgal,” he says. “Come on, boy, we’ll go for a nice run.”
The wolf just winds around her, blocking her path entirely with the side of his massive body, peering at Clive from around her hip. He barks.
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Jill puts a hand on the wolf's back, trying to step around him, but Torgal just takes up her space again, and barks again at Clive, impatient.
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“Jill’s going to be back before you know it,” Clive tells Torgal, kneeling down once more and putting his hands out for the beast. He has to be calm, untroubled. Firm: “But for now, with me, my friend.”
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Jill wishes it were. Wishes it more than anything, that at the end of the week, Clive will be in her arms and Torgal will plop down at her feet.
"All right," Jill breathes out. "I really do need to go. Let me know if he needs anything."
This time, she's able to step around him without being blocked.
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Something to look forward to, even if it hurts.
As Jill goes, Torgal gets up off his haunches and wanders towards Clive, though he still looks back at Jill’s retreating back. Clive sinks his fingers into the thick mane of the wolf’s neck, sighing, allowing himself to look at her, too.
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He misses you. He’s been pacing for hours.
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Poor boy.
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Does he do this when I leave the Hideaway without him?
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[The wolf seems to have some understanding that they're both nearby, but apart. It breaks her heart in a new way.]
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I’ll figure out something to soothe him. Apologies for disturbing you.
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I think he just needs time to adjust.
[You know, she said that about Clive countless times since they arrived here. And now they all need time to adjust to this new normal, Torgal included.]
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He looked for Cid for so long.
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Perhaps he is not looking for me, then.
[He could be looking for Joshua.]
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