Truthfully, her first thoughts are of something far, far worse, but Faolan doesn't seem the sort to sell her out. It's not as if he could, anyway; no one who isn't on the network can see these things, so any proof he obtained here would be meaningless. And for all they're not the most intimate of friends, she's fond of him, and assumes the affection goes both ways.
So. Assume it's not that, then. He's acting odd suddenly, so it's not just gossip. So why . . .]
How old is Laurent? Twenty-something, isn't he? 23?
[Faolan on the other hand does not assume she thinks he may be attempting to rat her out in any way/shape/form, but is instead assuming that she is on to him instead. Especially as this latest question pretty much hits the nail on the head as far as his own personal problems are concerned.]
Why? Is that how old your grad student is?
[ATTEMPTING TO DEFLECT THIS GOD HE'S EVEN YOUNGER THAN THAT GOD]
Faolan may have dropped his phone or maybe a glass whatever he had in his hands is no longer there because this had not been his intention but
How the hell is he going to deny this to her here and then look her in the eye ever again
How is he going to look her in the eye again in the first place for that matter
This is so bad this is bad it was a bad idea to give in to Laurent and now talking to her about it is probably bad too because he could get fired for this too but then again he supposes so could she, he just --
This really long pause in his response time probably says it all, tbh]
He's twenty.
[HIS LAST DITCH ATTEMPT AT DEFLECTION AND IT'S SO AWFUL EVEN HE RECOGNIZES THAT digs himself a hole in the ground to bury himself in
. . . but damned if she isn't pleased at being right. It's nothing to do with anything about Laurent or Faolan or their relationship, she's just happy to be right.]
Yes, he could be just a couple years younger and illegal.
[The thought has crossed his mind more than once already. Especially in the context of what Laurent's older brother would think, since he's technically the one who hired him and is paying his salary...]
Look, I. Have no idea what it is. There was a one time because he noticed I was interested and I think he wanted the company and the attention. And now...
[Now he has no idea what he wants from there, and Laurent can hold it over him, against him, use it however he would like, because he knows he'd do it again if he asked him to and it was probably a terrible decision but god if he doesn't want to do it again...]
Well. To answer your earlier question: Kit and I agreed at the start of summer to keep things platonic between us. We both worked to keep it that way. And there were . . . moments, I suppose, when I treated him as more than a friend, and vice-versa, but we were able to do it because we both worked at it. It was immensely difficult, but we managed because we were determined to.
I. Haven't, exactly. Not as far as. Expectations are concerned.
There is no 'next semester' to work towards, Rosalind. I'm his bodyguard. I work for him and his family. We slept together, the once. He seemed to enjoy it. I did. I'm not sure that we're both on the same terms as far as... Where things go from here. It hasn't really come up, other than. In passing.
[As in. Laurent has chosen specific moments to remind him of what happened when he needed something to hold over his head. Which sounds pretty awful, even thinking about it. It certainly doesn't make him feel that great about it either, truth be told. But there are good things about Laurent too, he swears............]
You're right: there is no next semester to work towards. I think Kit and I had it far easier than you, frankly. But given you're stuck in uncertainty, and given you're the older one in this mess, you need to bring that topic up. Nothing it going to be resolved by simply hesitating and wavering and promising to yourself you shan't do it again-- frankly, that's the right way to tumble back into his bed on some night when he's lonely and you're vulnerable.
Make him talk about it. I don't know if he's hesitating out of shyness or inexperience or cruelty, but whatever it is, this needs to resolve.
I'm not sure that it's cruelty. He's not. I don't want to paint the wrong picture for you here, he's only twenty. He's not some sort of emotionally manipulative mastermind. He needed someone and I was there. I wanted him. I have wanted him for a while now.
God that makes me sound terrible too. Nothing about this sounds right.
I know we should talk. I know it's up to me to make him talk. That's just. Harder than it sounds.
[Faolan is nursing what may be his second or third coffee of the day at this point -- it's easy to lose track when it's as much for comfort as anything. He glances up at Rosalind and contemplates whether it's possible to physically climb inside the mug in front of him as a viable route of escaping this conversation, only speaking up once he determines that it probably wouldn't work. He did get himself into this mess after all.]
[When he began to look at him in such a fashion. Oh lord. Faolan raises his coffee again to take a healthy sip and wishes he had brought along a flask to help aid him in this conversation as well.]
In... What sort of a fashion...
[He's hedging, but the truth of the matter is that IT'S COMPLICATED, as she will soon discover...]
[Faolan's eyes fall down to the table between them and he hesitates in his answer for long enough that it probably seems to her that he isn't going to answer before at last he offers:]
I have always found him attractive. But I never thought to... I worked for his older brother. I still do, technically. And I'm his bodyguard. I just thought...
[He just thought that he'd be looking. Until Laurent suggested he noticed him looking, of course.]
[Long fingers and a slender waist, red hair tied back in a professional manner, that accented voice asking her if she needed anything else done tonight? And she'd stared and stared and promised herself it was just a passing infatuation, nothing more, until she'd found herself dreaming of him . . .
[Faolan nods at her words. No. He didn't think it would ever go anywhere. It had never gone anywhere with Laurent's brother, whom he too had admired from the sidelines, if not quite in the same way. But Laurent had been different from the start. Laurent had noticed his wandering eye, and Laurent had thought to call him out on it. Laurent had been all too aware of what there might have been between them, and Laurent had...
He swirls his coffee for a moment, because how can he respond without betraying Laurent's trust? As much as he likes Rosalind, and he does like her a great deal, the exact details are not his to share.]
It was midway through August. Something... Happened. He was frightened. It was the middle of the night, and... [He glances up at her, knowing how it sounds but forcing himself to finish the thought anyway.] He insisted that he did not want to be alone.
[Putting it like that... It sounds pretty terrible yeah, and Faolan huddles himself around his coffee again, once again attempting to crawl inside.]
...he needed me, and I was there. And the next day, yes.
[He swallows, pressing his lips together before continuing:] It was like nothing had changed. That's the message I'm getting from him, at any rate. But it's not exactly something that I can just... Forget, and I don't know...
Then I'll repeat my advice to you: you have to talk to him about it.
[She tips her head at him. There really isn't anything judgmental in her tone; it would be hypocritical for her to be. But nor is there any softness in her gaze, because he doesn't need softness right now.]
Corner him. It doesn't matter if he wants to pretend nothing happened; something did, and I promise you he hasn't forgotten it either, if only because he won't speak of it. And if at the end, you both decide it was a one-time thing, you'll at least have the confirmation and can move forward from there.
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Truthfully, her first thoughts are of something far, far worse, but Faolan doesn't seem the sort to sell her out. It's not as if he could, anyway; no one who isn't on the network can see these things, so any proof he obtained here would be meaningless. And for all they're not the most intimate of friends, she's fond of him, and assumes the affection goes both ways.
So. Assume it's not that, then. He's acting odd suddenly, so it's not just gossip. So why . . .]
How old is Laurent? Twenty-something, isn't he? 23?
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Why? Is that how old your grad student is?
[ATTEMPTING TO DEFLECT THIS GOD HE'S EVEN YOUNGER THAN THAT GOD]
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When did you sleep with him?
[She could be completely wrong on this, but on the other hand, boy, there's only a few reasons Faolan is suddenly deflecting so hard.]
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Faolan may have dropped his phone or maybe a glass whatever he had in his hands is no longer there because this had not been his intention but
How the hell is he going to deny this to her here and then look her in the eye ever again
How is he going to look her in the eye again in the first place for that matter
This is so bad this is bad it was a bad idea to give in to Laurent and now talking to her about it is probably bad too because he could get fired for this too but then again he supposes so could she, he just --
This really long pause in his response time probably says it all, tbh]
He's twenty.
[HIS LAST DITCH ATTEMPT AT DEFLECTION AND IT'S SO AWFUL EVEN HE RECOGNIZES THAT digs himself a hole in the ground to bury himself in
fuck]
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SHE'S BEEN HERE
SHE WENT THROUGH THE WHOLE LESLIE KNOPE SPEECH WHEN SHE WAS IN HIS PLACE
. . . but damned if she isn't pleased at being right. It's nothing to do with anything about Laurent or Faolan or their relationship, she's just happy to be right.]
There are worse age gaps.
Just the one time, or is this an ongoing thing?
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Yes, he could be just a couple years younger and illegal.
[The thought has crossed his mind more than once already. Especially in the context of what Laurent's older brother would think, since he's technically the one who hired him and is paying his salary...]
Look, I. Have no idea what it is. There was a one time because he noticed I was interested and I think he wanted the company and the attention. And now...
[Now he has no idea what he wants from there, and Laurent can hold it over him, against him, use it however he would like, because he knows he'd do it again if he asked him to and it was probably a terrible decision but god if he doesn't want to do it again...]
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Well. To answer your earlier question: Kit and I agreed at the start of summer to keep things platonic between us. We both worked to keep it that way. And there were . . . moments, I suppose, when I treated him as more than a friend, and vice-versa, but we were able to do it because we both worked at it. It was immensely difficult, but we managed because we were determined to.
Have you tried to speak to him about it plainly?
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I. Haven't, exactly. Not as far as. Expectations are concerned.
There is no 'next semester' to work towards, Rosalind. I'm his bodyguard. I work for him and his family. We slept together, the once. He seemed to enjoy it. I did. I'm not sure that we're both on the same terms as far as... Where things go from here. It hasn't really come up, other than. In passing.
[As in. Laurent has chosen specific moments to remind him of what happened when he needed something to hold over his head. Which sounds pretty awful, even thinking about it. It certainly doesn't make him feel that great about it either, truth be told. But there are good things about Laurent too, he swears............]
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You're right: there is no next semester to work towards. I think Kit and I had it far easier than you, frankly. But given you're stuck in uncertainty, and given you're the older one in this mess, you need to bring that topic up. Nothing it going to be resolved by simply hesitating and wavering and promising to yourself you shan't do it again-- frankly, that's the right way to tumble back into his bed on some night when he's lonely and you're vulnerable.
Make him talk about it. I don't know if he's hesitating out of shyness or inexperience or cruelty, but whatever it is, this needs to resolve.
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God that makes me sound terrible too. Nothing about this sounds right.
I know we should talk. I know it's up to me to make him talk. That's just. Harder than it sounds.
[Have you MET Laurent?]
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How precisely is it difficult.
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He's... It's like nothing happened. The way he's reacted.
I don't know. I'm no good at this.
[He really isn't.]
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This might be easier to discuss in person. Or at least over a call.
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I'm free now. Which would you prefer.
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[And once they sort out a nearby coffee shop, it's there Rosalind goes, ordering herself some tea. This is going to be a long chat, clearly.]
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Hey...
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[If she's embarrassed, she doesn't look it: Rosalind says that briskly and crisply, one leg crossing over the other as she settles in.]
Give me a timeline for this, please. I think that may be best. Start with when you began to look at him in such a fashion, and we'll go from there.
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In... What sort of a fashion...
[He's hedging, but the truth of the matter is that IT'S COMPLICATED, as she will soon discover...]
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When you began to look at your charge and think about fucking him, Faolan.
[sips that tea]
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I have always found him attractive. But I never thought to... I worked for his older brother. I still do, technically. And I'm his bodyguard. I just thought...
[He just thought that he'd be looking. Until Laurent suggested he noticed him looking, of course.]
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[Long fingers and a slender waist, red hair tied back in a professional manner, that accented voice asking her if she needed anything else done tonight? And she'd stared and stared and promised herself it was just a passing infatuation, nothing more, until she'd found herself dreaming of him . . .
Oh, yes. Does she ever know that feeling.]
What was the catalyst?
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He swirls his coffee for a moment, because how can he respond without betraying Laurent's trust? As much as he likes Rosalind, and he does like her a great deal, the exact details are not his to share.]
It was midway through August. Something... Happened. He was frightened. It was the middle of the night, and... [He glances up at her, knowing how it sounds but forcing himself to finish the thought anyway.] He insisted that he did not want to be alone.
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[Her words are harsh, but her tone isn't judgmental. Rosalind sips at her tea, trying to think.]
And since then . . . nothing. Yes?
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...he needed me, and I was there. And the next day, yes.
[He swallows, pressing his lips together before continuing:] It was like nothing had changed. That's the message I'm getting from him, at any rate. But it's not exactly something that I can just... Forget, and I don't know...
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[She tips her head at him. There really isn't anything judgmental in her tone; it would be hypocritical for her to be. But nor is there any softness in her gaze, because he doesn't need softness right now.]
Corner him. It doesn't matter if he wants to pretend nothing happened; something did, and I promise you he hasn't forgotten it either, if only because he won't speak of it. And if at the end, you both decide it was a one-time thing, you'll at least have the confirmation and can move forward from there.