Who: Octavius Pepper & Rose Knightley!
What: the most awkward thread you will ever read.
When: IDK SOMETIME in the near past/near present
Status: To be finished!


She did not, she did not, did not act like a cheating, selfish girlfriend/friend. She didn’t! Kendall had just been upset, he’d even said so himself, so... there was nothing to worry about, right? Right. Wrong. It did, it did bother her, and--- Rose momentarily stopped flipping through her magazine, realizing she had been turning the pages without reading them. Warding off the thoughts that had been plaguing her since last week had been difficult, because it had gotten to the point where it consumed her. Consumed by how she thought she acted, what she said, what she did... her thoughts warped back, and Rose too went back to flicking through the pages too quickly to be able to read the words on the pages.

When she ran out of material, Rose closed it with a snap. She would admit, she had been too afraid to ask anyone else about this out of fear of what they might say. That, in addition to the embarrassment of having to retell the story, it became too much to address. Kendall had apologized, at least, and they now had plans to go to this activity called yoga once a week, but it didn’t make her feel any better. It probably made him feel better, but that didn’t fix the fact that she felt pressed having conversations with Thomas, did not feel like she was up to date with Danielle’s pregnancy, and Octavius---

Rose flipped to face him, as he had moved to the kitchen while she had been “reading”. She most certainly did not want him to be thinking those things. She wanted him to think they were solid, that there was nothing to worry about, because there wasn’t anything to worry about. But a fear had set in, which made her think; What could she say or do to show him that? That they were great, that they were moving forward, even!

“We should move in together,” she blurted, then immediately pressed her face into the couch. Ducking low, only her eyes peaked over the back of the couch with her hands firmly grasping it.

There was a loud clatter in the kitchen, followed by a somewhat muffled yowl.

Octavius blinked furiously, his gaze darting between the suggestion of a Rose behind the sofa back, and the cut vegetables that had previously been slicing by themselves on the countertop, now strewn over the floor. With his wand, he flicked them into a basin in the sink, while his mind tripped hurriedly over itself trying to make sense of the sentence Rose just uttered.

What had happened for her to suggest that? The idea wasn't abhorrent, or anything, just surprising. Very surprising. Surprising because they'd given zero indication to the other that that was the next step they wanted to take, and soon. Or at least, he thought that. Had she, he wondered with a sinking feeling, been giving him signs and signals all along that that's what she wanted, and he simply hadn't noticed?

Well, given his previous records… most likely. Damn!

Had he been in her head, this thought might seem somewhat reasonable, and certainly not out of the blue. But since he was not in his girlfriend's head, and had no idea how that might even be achievable, it sounded a little something like, "What's for dinner? Let's move in together!"

But if he'd known about her showdown with Kendall—well, of course he'd noticed she was a bit subdued the rest of the night. It hadn't seemed all that strange, because Rose could be an unpredictably melancholy drunk. Then… well, they hadn't seen much of each other over the past two weeks. First, there was the All-Stars game (for her—and Charlie), then the celebrity game (for him—and Charlie), though it shamed him (—and Charlie) to speak of it, and the subsequent parties and public relations events surrounding those. He hadn't thought she'd been acting strange, or as if something was weighing heavily on her mind, but admittedly, he was—terrible, actually, at noticing that sort of thing.

"Erm…" he said intelligently, scratching at the back of his neck.

Rose slowly sunk further into the couch, feeling her face getting hotter and reder by the second. Well--! She didn’t know what else to do! Because that wasn’t a good reaction, was it? He-- knives were being thrown about! And--- well, she could barely look at him, but there were no other signs of a response, which could basically be taken as bad signs---

Dear Merlin Octavius was going to break up with her. Octavius was going to break up with her, and she would go on to live a lonely existence with her cat (which would turn into cats), because who in their right mind would want to date her? But oh, at least she had Thomas, which Kendall had so nicely pointed out, to live a miserable existence of just being strange ex/friends because apparently that was all she cared about and---- no friends, she had no friends--- Rose felt her breath begin to escape her and her throat constrict--- face now completely pressed into the couch, she let out a soft whine into the seams.

What was--- she supposed to do--- now? How could she be so dumb? She couldn’t even think---

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean--- I just thought---” Rose began, pulling her head up slightly to talk. But, she was unsure of where she was going with this, so who knew how long that would last. She didn’t even--- did she want to move in? She hadn’t even thought about--- but what else could she do? There wasn’t--- buy him another goat? Like a french one? “I don’t know what I was thinking,” she finally admitted, promptly covering her hair and her head with her hands. She felt crazed.

He felt as if he were performing a stage play, and everyone else had their scripts and blocking memorised, and he was the new understudy dropped in the middle, mucking it all up. Had he missed something? Well, no, obviously he had, so the question was really what had he missed, and perhaps the second question was how long had he been missing it for? Damn his utterly debilitating absence of mind! He'd thought this time around, he'd gotten around to fixing that! Lowering his hand from the back of his neck, Octavius looked back at her disembodied head and panickedly strove for a word that was not the terribly unsuccessful "erm."

"Erm," Well! "did you... er, you didn't mean right now... did you?" He stepped outside the kitchen and looked hesitantly to the sides, as if expecting to see her things already having appeared.

Snapping out of the surreal stupor, Octavius gave a violent shake of his head. "No—I mean, that's not—I didn't mean that!" He held up his hands in a gesture of both denial and surrender. "I meant—I just--erm—"Damn! "what—" Yes! "—What," he straightened up and folded his arms, trying to sink into a very casual stance, as if he hadn't been a blabbering fool just a second ago, "brought this on?"

Rose bit her lip, not wanting to tell Octavius the reason behind her impromptu suggestion. There would be no right way to explain that, for it to come out without creating more issues, she at least knew that. He was all--- flustered, now! And telling him would surely fluster him more, not to mention--- she was too embarrassed to tell the truth! How would you--- she didn’t even--- Rose pressed her hands harder into her face, as if doing that would help put a stop her running thoughts.

“I don’t know,” she lied finally, shrugging her shoulders jerkily. Watching Octavius react was a special treat, and for that, Rose closed her eyes. Right now she wanted to ignore how poorly he was reacting (one issue at a time), but it was hard not to notice. He didn’t....? Well technically she wasn’t sure how keen she was to the idea of moving-in together just yet either, but that didn’t stop her from feeling a bit dejected. Merlin she was just screwing up everything, wasn’t she?

“Um,” Rose started, feeling like she had to say something else. Too bad she didn’t know what. “It was just a thought?” she tried, opening her eyes to begin a staring contest with the ceiling. Maybe she should flee. She was getting a strong ‘flee’ feeling right about now.

Just a thought. That's all it was, he told himself, just a thought. An errant, off-the-cuff, relationship-changing, life-altering... thought.

Octavius began to get the feeling it wasn't actually just a thought.

He didn't want to say the words had him breaking out in a cold sweat, but his vocabulary could not quite find the suitable synonyms to replace them with.

Part of it, part of it was that the last time he'd lived with someone, which wasn't terribly long ago, unfortunately, it hadn't been his choice. Or, rather, it hadn't been part of the plan. Elsie Prod had a way about her, a sneaky, manipulative way that one didn't really notice until about six months after her forced departure. At first, it was because oh, Tavvy, she lived in such a dreadful place, she simply couldn't bear to pass another year there. So, naturally, when her lease ended and she needed a place to stay during the period in which she might seek out other, more suitable residences, Octavius gallantly offered. And then she just... didn't leave. Ever. So one day he woke up and realised he'd had a live-in girlfriend for the better part of four months.

A crazy, jealous, free-riding girlfriend with whom the authorities had to get involved to remove.

Obviously, the situation with Rose was not the same, but in the very primitive part of his brain, like those cavemen he'd read about, all he could associate cohabiting with was trouble.

But if she had gone to all this trouble of bringing such a proposition up (or, well, blurting it out), he didn't want her to feel badly just because it gave him linguistic failure and a powerful urge to lie down (by himself).

"I think that is a very interesting idea," he said, honestly. Because it was. Interesting in the abject terror it caused him, that is. Although he would have to call it a strictly intellectual interest, as practical exploration of such a topic was—again, inducing of the linguistic failure and something a little bit stronger than an "urge" to lie down. "Perhaps we might discuss it," he simultaneously cleared his throat and tugged his collar away from his neck, "at a—later junction."

Possibly... never?

Was he was talking to her like a professor? Like a professor that had better things to do than listen to his silly student’s wild magical theories. Why was he talking to her like a professor? Rose bit the inside of her cheek, beginning to feel more and more anxious and uncomfortable. Your boyfriend shouldn’t be put into a position that made him talk to you like a student, should he? Unless it was for... some sex thing---

Rose closed her eyes, feeling her face heat up substantially at her own winding thoughts. Well, if this wasn’t an excellent example of backfiring, she didn’t know what was. Never in her life had she ever felt so forward, and now she knew why it had never been an appealing quality to her. Finding herself unable to speak, an awkward silence blossomed between them. Octavius did not want to talk about the current subject, and she was so embarrassed and upset with herself that she could barely look at him, let alone think of anything that would do away with this uncomfortable tension.

“I just---” she started, unable to sustain it any longer. The only other option she could think of doing was to leave, and as much as Rose would love to escape this awful exchange, she couldn’t leave them like this--- worse off than before! Then she just would’ve been counterproductive, and that would be what she’d think of when she looked back at this moment. Counterproductive. Just bloody terrible.

“Feel like---” Rose started again, unable to think well enough to choose the right beginning statement. “That night, at the pub, when we ran into Kendall---” she looked down, only to fumble with her hands. Hadn’t she just promised herself she wouldn’t say this? “I was upset because---” But apart of her wanted to know if... she wanted to know if Octavius felt that way, but was too afraid to ask. How could you ask that? She would just... use different wording.

She let out a frustrated noise, unable to decide how to say what she knew she had to say. “I was upset because--- Kendall made me feel like... I treat you poorly and other people--- inappropriately, and I didn’t want you to think that---” Rose trailed off, finding that speaking anymore was too difficult. Instead, she waved her hand with implication.

Dropping his hand with a shocked expression, he shook his head. "I don't—I don't think you treat me poorly, Rose."

But the pieces of this very oblong, murky puzzle before him started to fall into place. Well, some of them were, at any rate. If she'd taken what Kendall had said to heart, and if he knew Rose (which he liked to think he did, this disastrous occasion aside), she had been stewing over this statement since that night. So, perhaps it culminated in her asking him about living together. Yes, Octavius thought that would make sense. That would also mean she hadn't really considered it from the perspective of what she wanted out of this relationship, but more that she was doing it to appease him. Possibly. Hopefully.

Gracious, was he ever learning a lot about himself and his issues through this one thus-far painfully awkward encounter.

He stepped towards her, hands extended in a gesture for soothing and calming. "And I never have."

When he was close enough to the back of the sofa, he braced his hands on the top of it to bend and better look her in the eye. "So please don't feel like you owe me, or need to make something up to me, by having us move in together."

Feeling an overwhelming sense of relief and the dissipation of the tense atmosphere, Octavius placed a hand on Rose's, and was just about to summon his quickly-draining strength for a smile when he remembered the other part of her argument with Kendall. "What did Kendall mean by saying you treat others inappropriately?" Octavius asked, a concerned frown crinkling his brow.

She hadn’t thought so either, until Kendall had planted this little thing, this tiny seed in her mind, and when he hadn’t fully apologized for saying it (he did technically, but-- it hadn’t helped), it had grown into this monster of an all-consuming thought. Which all lead to--- here, where Rose felt like she mucking everything up left and right. All because she couldn’t control her tendency to blurt current thoughts under pressure. Self pressure! And this need to think up of quick-fixing ideas. And---

Well-- she--- it did ease Rose’s mind to know that he didn’t feel that way, that he had even gone out of his way to convey that. It eased her enough that she’d even momentarily smiled and put her free hand to the side of his face. But that was only half the battle, and because of her poor word-choice, there was more to address. It was incredible how her emotions could spike from relieved to anxious all over again in such a short amount of times and so little words from another.

“I’m sorry, I was just so worried you might feel that way, or think that---.” Rose said, keeping her hand on his face as she moved to press herself closer to the couch, and therefore him. “That--- I don’t know, that I thought that would be a good thing, to show you that it wasn’t?” That explanation did make her feel less crazed, but the new wave coming on from his final response quickly squashed all hopes of untroubled waters. She bit the inside of her lip.

The pressure of another blurt was coming on, Rose could feel it.

“Thomas,” she spoke quietly, her hand dropping now from Octavius’ face. She knew that Octavius and Thomas tended to lean toward not being as good friends as Rose hoped they would be, and this wasn’t going to help.. “Kendall thinks I don’t treat him appropriately.” Appropriately. That was a good substitute word for the one that Kendall had used.