Laundry room talk...

[x-dazzler.livejournal.com]

Late Thursday Evening...

Piotr arranged earlier to meet Alison in their talking spot, the stuffy student laundry room. He's leaning on the dryer as it tumbles his newly washed clothes around, thumbing through a current issue of Rolling Stone magazine he found.

The door pops open and Alison leans in, smiling cheerfully as she spots Piotr. "Hey there," she calls out to him, stepping inside the laundry room and closing the door behind her.

Piotr looks up, standing straighter, and smiles. He sets the magazine down on top of the dryer, hands casually drop into his pockets. He looks like he's up to something, one corner of his mouth turned up a bit higher than the other. "Hello Alison. How has your day been?"

"I'm already getting used to being up at five every day," she chuckles after making a mock-tragic pose. "Had a riding lesson with Sam earlier, and I'm surprised I'm not sore – I think the exercise this week probably explains why..." She shrugs, trailing off and tilting her head while looking up at him curiously. "Piotr? What's going on?" she smiles at him with a puzzled, if amused, look.

Piotr's grin widens. "Nothing is really going on. I just... noticed something the other day. When you and Sam and the others came over for drawing?" He crosses his arms, and resumes his casual lean on the dryer, offering no other information.

She raises an eyebrow at him, and shakes her head in bemusement. "Piotr, if you're trying to tell me something, I'm afraid I have no clue what you mean..." She puts her hand on the washing machine behind her and hops up to sit on it. "Words of two syllables and less for poor Alison?"

He cocks his head to the side a bit, "If you want to talk to me about anything you know I will listen, right? So... if you want to tell me something, you can..."

"There was a word of three syllables in there," is all she can think of to say at first, at a complete loss as to what point Piotr might be trying to make. "I'm sorry, I mean... I know I can talk to you, really, I do," she adds wryly. "It's just that I'm no-" she stops in mid-sentence, looking up at him with a curiously blank look – remembering something she'd told Piotr not so long ago in this very room.

You've a rare talent, Piotr. You can grasp the essence of someone, and lay it on paper..

"Piotr, what did you notice when you were drawing?"

Piotr sticks the tip of his tongue out between his teeth, looking positively gleeful. "I do not know. You tell me?"

Rather than the amusement or happiness he had likely been expecting, Piotr sees the color slowly drain from Alison's features as her mouth opens slightly, but no words come out. "Please Piotr?" she finally manages to say, voice trembling. "What did you see?"

Piotr's grin fades to a worried frown. He didn't think she would look so... frightened. "It is okay Alison... it is not bad. I just saw... maybe... you care a lot for Sam?" His eyebrows rise a bit, wondering if this was the answer she expected, or if something else is wrong.

Alison manages a crooked smile at his words, bringing up her legs on the washing machine to sit Indian style and try to calm herself – breathing in and out regularly, as she does when she meditates. "You mean more than just a lot, don't you?" she managed to point out gently, knowing from the look on his face alone that he knows. Forgetting my own words and offering to pose when Sam's in the room. What was I thinking?

Piotr smiles gently, looks over at her, brown eyes meeting blue. "That is what I saw. You do not have to tell me if you do not want to. I understand. I just thought, you know, if you wanted to tell someone..." He shrugs a bit and trails off.

She keeps the smile up, cursing under her breath as tears start to fill her eyes. "This is ridiculous," she mutters, pausing briefly to wipe at her eyes. "It's just – it doesn't matter," she finally says thickly, the smile starting to waver. "It doesn't matter how much. He won't-" she pauses, taking in a deep breath and shaking her head as tears course down her cheeks. "He won't ever see me that way," she manages to say, each word clearly enunciated.

Piotr winces at the tears, brows furrows with concern. He moves smoothly from the dryer to the washer, and reaches out to draw Alison into a hug. "It is not ridiculous... it is not... Sam likes you a lot, do not cry."

Alison curls up tightly into the hug, wishing she could do this without crying, hoping she'll figure out a way to deal with things as they are. It's the constant reminders...

"I'm sure he does," she replies, doing her best to take even breaths. To whom it may concern, right. "I'm his friend," she states the last word with simplicity. "You like your friends."

He pets her hair soothingly, regretting bringing this up at all. He could see the attraction, but he didn't know it ran so much deeper. After a long moment he finally replies, "Maybe you should tell him."

"No," she replies after a long moment, smiling through the tears. "I don't think so. He needs a friend right now, and I'd be doing him wrong trying to turn this into something he doesn't want."

"That's what friends are for," she said, amazed at how easy she managed to make the words sound.

"Yeah..." Sam replied, almost wistfully. He nodded his head once, solidly. "And that's ALL they should be for."

Piotr doesn't want to try and convince her of something she doesn't want, and just sighs, "Okay.. I wish I could do something to help. I am sorry for talking about this with you. I did not know it was so upsetting. But... you never know. About Sam, right? "

She looks up at him with a wan smile, giving him a reproachful look. "No, I - Thank you," she says, wiping away the tears on her cheeks. "It - felt nice to be able to cry about this," she tells him, "and I guess I'm glad you did bring it up." Now I have some clue as to how obvious I can be. I'll have to be careful with that. Some actress I am. "Would you mind if – if I just need to lean for a bit..." she trails off, looking uncertain.

Piotr looks at her sadly, and nods, "Of course, Alison. I am always here if you need anything." He smiles a bit, trying to lighten the mood, "Even a bad rollerblading partner."

"That was a stupid question Piotr," she blurts out, realizing what she's just said. "I'm sorry, you've always been a good friend, I shouldn't have even asked..." She gives him a sheepish, tired look. "I don't know up from down anymore these days sometimes. I'm sorry. And actually, I think Alex was planning on starting you on the skateboard on Sunday," she stops before mentioning she's thought Sam might have fun skateboarding too – he wasn't coming along anymore, after all. "I think you'll enjoy that," she continues smoothly.

He smiles, "It is okay, Alison... you worry so much." He tenderly brushes some hair away from her face, noting how tired she looks. "Sunday will be fun, for you too. We should get ice cream. Ice cream is good for everything." He starts as the dryer buzzes, and glances up at the clock. "I think for now you should get to bed, though. You look like you need more sleep." He gives her a look normally reserved for Illyana. The Stern Yet Caring Older Brother Look.

"Ice cream is indeed," she smiles at the look he is giving her, "the cure for all woes." She slides off the washing machine, wrapping her arms around herself briefly. "Thanks, Piotr. I'll go and try to get some sleep," she nods obediently.

Piotr affectionately ruffles Alison's hair, and smiles a bit. "There are no thanks needed. Sweet dreams... and remember, counting sheep helps. "

This gets a surprised laugh out of her as she reaches up to tap his nose lightly. "Sleep well, Piotr." She turns and opens the door, then pauses. "Baaaaaaaah," she intones innocently, walking out of the laundry room and closing the door behind her.

Piotr chuckles, and turns to gather his dried clothes after she leaves.