#ch 41 and 42 updates wrecked me

[sillybouquetsoul]

Cloud Castles - Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Acting (ao3 link)

Rating: Teen

Word count: 1.7k

Pairing: Aisha/Sein

Story summary: They dance just out of each other’s reach, but each time brings them closer together.

OR

Aisha and Sein navigate through the dark fairy tale of their own making, one encounter at a time.

Chapter Summary: Aisha tries her hand at rewriting a story.

The book propped in Aisha’s arms is pushed down, and Aida’s beaming face takes its place. 

“Aisha, let’s do a play!” Her sister’s enthusiasm is infectious. Aisha can’t find it in herself to get angry at her. 

“What play?” 

“Oh, you know my favourite one. The Three Dwarves, of course!” 

Aisha groans. “We’ve done that so many times.” 

“Because it’s a classic! And it works best with four people,” Aida tugs the book clean out of Aisha’s hands, and like a fool, Aisha lets it go. “Come on. Carlo and Nemo already agreed. We just need one more person!” 

Aisha knows it’s a lost cause, but she asks anyway. “What about Sein?” 

Aida sighs. “He says he’ll only join if you play the main character. But that’s okay, I can take turns with you! You play the female lead and then I will, so we both get to act with Sein!” 

So, not a flat-out no. There’s still hope. But Aisha is tired of playing the same role. Ideally, she would exert the bare minimum effort that would satisfy Aida, and also maximize any opportunity to make Sein uncomfortable. Acting seems to be one of his pain points. She should, if she can, take advantage of his conditional response. 

Especially after the manoeuvre he pulled on her that hot summer day so many months ago. Her bottom lip tingles with the memory. 

“Sure, I can join you. I’ll play the lead so Sein will join us as well, but,” she holds up a finger before Aida can celebrate too soon. “On one condition.” 

Aisha’s mind comes alive with ideas. A smile grows on her lips, and she can almost taste the tantalizing sweetness of vengeance. 

“Let me revise the story.” 

After promising Aida that she would finish rewriting the story in two days, Aisha’s routine of reading in the library during the daytime switches over to writing. She requests for a stack of fresh parchments and inkwells in preparation for the project, which fills her with excitement. 

Reading and acting out The Three Dwarves is one experience; rewriting it is another entirely. 

She spends the first day discarding more drafts than saving them. She only leaves the library for meals and bathroom breaks; the remainder of her time is devoted to writing at the desk. Engrossed in writing, she even loses track of time. When she looks up, the sky outside the window has darkened, and the candles around the room are lit. 

Aisha sets down the ink quill to rub her aching eyes. She wonders how she could have missed a servant coming in to light the candles. It’s rather considerate of them, though also unusual because if they knew she was in the library, they left her alone. 

“Good evening, Aisha.” She jolts in her seat, lifting her head to see Sein standing beside a shelf. He holds a book in his arms, as always. From the distance and wavering candlelight, Aisha can’t make out which book. 

“Why are you… oh, it’s nighttime. You mentioned before that you enjoy reading here at night.” 

“Indeed. I usually carry one candle around for myself, but seeing as you were still here, I took the liberty of lighting all the candles in this space,” Sein comes forward, stopping at the edge of the desk. “I hope you didn’t strain your eyes too much.” 

He studies the mess of parchment papers and ink stains. He looks wide awake at this late hour, while Aisha’s body is now suffering the aftereffects of hunching over the desk all day. Her back is bound to ache badly tomorrow, and she’s not even halfway through the rewrite yet. 

As Sein leans closer, probably to read her writing, Aisha quickly gathers the written parchment and holds them close to her chest. 

Sein’s eyes drift from the papers to her, one eyebrow arched. 

“They’re not done yet. You’ll get to read them tomorrow.” If I manage to finish writing by then.  

He withdraws with a slight smile. “Ah. Then I’ll look forward to reading it tomorrow.” 

She waits for him to leave, but he doesn’t. He takes the couch adjacent to the desk, a little too close for comfort. Aisha debates whether she should ask him to leave; ultimately, she decides that it’d be rude, because their reading times have never overlapped until tonight. Now is Sein’s turn to read in the library if he wishes, and she’s encroaching on that time. 

“Will you play the lead this time?” 

“I am, so this means you will act too.” Aisha states, watching his face for any negative emotions. 

Even if Sein finds the idea of acting in a children’s fairy tale repulsive, he doesn’t reveal anything.  “Of course,” he agrees readily, leaning his head against his palm. “I don't break my promises. If you’d like me to act in this one, then I will.” 

“It’s not about whether I want you to act, because I don’t. It will make Aida happy if everyone plays a part, so this is for her.” Aisha corrects. 

Why does he have to phrase it like that? Like he’d do anything she asked of him. 

Sein hums. “If that’s how you want to think, I won’t refute it.” 

Candlelight dances in his eyes, and the faint smile he usually wears has faded away. When Sein isn’t smiling, he looks intimidating and impossible to approach. Out of Madam Sylvia’s children, Aisha thinks he’s the most memorable one; his noble features are strikingly beautiful. Aida had acknowledged his appearance since the first time they met, but it took ages for Aisha to accept it. 

Step siblings in fairy tales are almost always portrayed as deformed creatures because of their inherent penchant for wickedness and cruelty. He is Madam Sylvia’s son after all, and apples don’t fall far from their tree. So for the longest time, Aisha refused to think of him as handsome. 

But the candlelight softens the sharp lines of his face, just enough that the tension seeps out of Aisha’s shoulders. Perhaps letting her guard down around him is unwise—and she has seen firsthand how terrifying he can be, holding a bloody knife instead of a book—but for the moment, she puts those flyaway thoughts to rest. They would only distract her, and Sein is already a major distraction by himself. 

“Please don’t talk to me while I’m writing. I really do have to finish this.” Aisha says airily, returning her attention to the parchment. 

He doesn’t respond, but when she glances over after a few minutes, he seems focused on his book. Other than the turning of the page, the library is quiet, just how Aisha likes it. She’s glad that Sein is considerate enough to not initiate a conversation, otherwise she can’t concentrate on writing. 

So Aisha dips her quill and resumes her task. She’ll stop once she reaches the halfway point. 

Aisha wakes up on a firm surface. Not her bed. 

The ceiling above her is high and vaulted. The air also carries the scent of paper and ink. Not her bedroom. 

She sits up, every inch of her body protesting at the movement. She’s still wearing yesterday’s day dress; the fabric is wrinkled from her sleeping in it. The sunlight shining through the windows is what wakes her up, and she realizes she's slept on the couch in the library. The blanket covering her body slips down, pooling at her waist. It’s an unfamiliar blanket, definitely not from her own room. 

The last thing she remembers is writing… Sein was also there, though he was reading. 

She has no memory of falling asleep, nor moving from the desk to the couch. Someone moved her, and also gave her a blanket. Annie, perhaps? 

Aisha doesn’t waste time pondering her mysterious helper. She collects the stack of written parchment, intending to keep them in her room. Just as she’s about to nudge the library door open, someone pulls it open from the outside, causing Aisha to stumble. 

A firm hand catches her shoulder. Aisha looks up, breath sticking in her chest. 

Why him? Anyone but him. 

“Good morning, Miss Aisha.” Sein greets her first. 

She straightens, but his hand stays on her shoulder. Suddenly, she’s all too aware of her unbrushed hair, wrinkled dress, and ink-stained fingers. She lowers her head self-consciously, unwilling to look at him. “Good morning Sein. My apologies, but I’m in a hurry, so if you could let me pass—”

Some of the parchment slips and falls, landing in a heap around the floor. Aisha internally curses, bending down to retrieve them. In front of her, Sein also crouches, reaching for the pieces that fell further away. 

“Still not fully awake, I see.” He comments, amused. 

“Don’t read them,” Aisha says sharply as she notices his eyes running across the parchment. “Give that back, please.” 

Sein doesn’t move. “Interesting.” 

“Sein,” Aisha snatches the parchment out of his hand. “Goodness. Would you read an incomplete story?” 

He looks at her. 

“I suppose not, but I already know how The Three Dwarves goes. How far can you deviate from the original?” 

“If this is a trick to convince me to spoil my rewrite, I’m not falling for it,” Aisha huffs. “Wait and see.” 

Sein stands and extends a hand. Aisha frowns, but eventually accepts it. His hand is larger and warmer than hers, and she’s momentarily glad that her glove alleviates most of the physical contact. Once she’s on her feet, he lets go. 

“Are you planning to sleep in the library again tonight?” 

“I will try not to fall asleep,” Aisha says. “The couch is not the most comfortable place to sleep.” 

“Would you prefer that I wake you up if you do fall asleep? I could have brought you to your room last night, but that was a great distance away, and I didn’t want to risk waking both you and Aida up.” 

“You carried me to the couch?” Aisha repeats in a daze. “I thought… I thought it was Annie.” 

Sein shakes his head. His amusement grows with her discomfort. “I even let you borrow one of my blankets. Was it warm enough?” 

“It was sufficient,” she says calmly, though she’s fuming at the notion of Sein touching her again. How meddlesome and annoying. “But not to worry, I won’t let that happen again.” 

“You’re light as a feather. I don’t mind.”

Of course he doesn’t mind, because the humiliation belongs to her and her alone, and for some reason he finds great pleasure in embarrassing her. She turns tail and walks away. It takes a lot of effort to not break into a sprint. 

Even sprinting doesn’t feel fast enough to escape from Sein.

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