A distraction

Posted on Sun Mar 30th, 2025 @ 11:21 by Alastair Temple & Liana Zhao

Chapter: Besieged
4015 words - 8 OF Standard Post Measure

Truth be told, Al felt lost, down in the dumps, with everything that was happening. A month ago if you had asked him how it was going he'd have said that he was on top of the world. But now? With the castle blockaded, with everyone's unalienable right about to be alienated, with Cameron being badly hurt and him and Ji-an being the Gods of Heavy Metal only knew where?

Not to mention that the visit to Mhairi hadn't gone - ... well. Not that he'd expected it to, but - well, the mechanic was a firebrand, that was certain. More than he could handle. And so the institute's music teacher found himself making his way over towards Liana Zhao's room. Why Liana? That's where his thoughts went when his mind was stormy like now. When he felt lost, she felt like home. Like safety. When he felt weak, she was strength. And so, he made his way over there, carrying two things in hand that he'd picked up on the way. A small box of tea, and a magazine, the most recent copy of Black Iron, a monthly heavy metal release with a rather ... interesting picture on the front cover.

Whether it was an appropriate or opportune time, he'd only momentarily pondered. Most of all he figured he'd just go and then roll with whatever mood he found. Seat of the pants, spur of the moment type decisions. You know, like how he lived most of his life. Free as a bird.

Had he the capacity, or at least the lack of manners, to let himself in, Alastair would have been confronted with a rare moment of defeat from the brunette currently sat at the small writing desk she'd placed inside her room for personal correspondence, back when the world had made a little more sense and there wasn't quite the same pressure to live and breathe her responsibilities. Shoulders slumped, with her forehead resting against open palms as she kneaded at the tension that sat just behind her eyes, Liana was in the process of mustering the energy to consider a late lunch, or perhaps an early dinner. Retreating to her private space had been a necessary decompression, having vacated her office to allow Phoebe space to make the phone-calls she insisted on taking responsibility for. The knock at the door was unexpected only in the sense that there was nothing Liana was aware of that required her immediate attention. With the way things had been, there was very little surprise to the possibility of that changing.

Anticipation of the need for professionalism was responsible for the neat gathering of composure as she reached the door and opened it. There was a brief moment where, startled, she grappled with the notion that the effort wasn't quite as pressing and smiled only a split second later than was perhaps usual. Gratitude swiftly followed, for her visitor was the one person in the entire castle Liana didn't feel as much pressure to perform for. A counsellor's instinct noticed the fatigue in his features, however, and she adjusted to find a balance between professional veneer and intimate meltdown. "Hey, you." She stepped aside. "Come in."

A soft smile from the music teacher. "You look as exhausted as I feel," beat. "And probably look as well,"as he stepped inside, finding the spare chair easily enough and parking himself upon it. The magazine placed out of the way and without drawing attention to it, the next order of business was handing Li the small box of tea, 40 bags of Lao Ying brand Jasmine and Camomile blend tea, with a dash of lavender. "Here, I seem to recall you mentioned you'd run out of chamomile tea, and this seemed a decent one. Picked it up on the way back. How go things around here?"

"Oh, you're a sweetheart."

She was so short on sleep, and so stretched on composure, that Liana was more concerned by the tears pricking the backs of her eyes than whether the words she'd chosen would be appreciated or not. It was a simple gesture but it was personal, an attention to a detail that only affected her. Under the weight of propping up the entire Institute, there hadn't been a lot of that lately. Liana didn't crave it, and certainly didn't begrudge the absence given the very genuine stress everyone was under, but it meant something to be thought of enough for solace to be offered. More than she could struggle to find the eloquence to convey. She took the box, staring at it, and then released a rush of tension as a sigh before mustering a sincere smile. "Thank you, this is lovely. Would you like some? I can put the kettle on."

"Uh - sure. I'll have some tea," Part of al considered that she hadn't answered his question about how things were going. He wasn't going to press the issue, instead just choosing to relax, which meant closing his eyes and deflating, and noticing some small aches and pains he hadn't before. Age was slowly starting to catch up with him, he could feel it. This was his life now, it seemed, as he rolled his shoulder with a slight wince. "I mean, I'd love some tea. Thank you."

It struck Liana only as she was filling the kettle that the situation was a partial retake on their efforts prior to the world turning upside down. It left her briefly considering the propriety behind offering him noodles as well as the drink but good taste, coupled by her own lack of appetite, stayed her tongue. Instead, she moved quietly, a series of steps performed automatically as she caught the severity of her own silence and took pains to deal with it. "It's been a subdued day." The eventual response was less a result of Liana realising she hadn't answered him and leaned more towards a natural tendency to find Alastair easy to confide in. "Vigilance is exhausting, of course, but the students are handling themselves well. Claire would be proud."

"Vigilance is exhausting, yeah. Makes me wonder if there's something we could organize for the kids, internally. Like - Idunno, something positive, showing them that we're all still standing, and we're all still with them. Of course my first thought is 'musical performance', but that's just the musician in me speaking." Al mused. Truth be told he could do with a little pick-me-up too, something nice happening for once. Maybe this could be as much for the teachers as for the students.

"As long as we remain on high alert, it would be difficult to promise them much. I can't rule out a need to bunker down in the gymnasium, planning much of anything is subject to cancellation." It was a difficult balance, and at the moment, Liana had spent the day trying to establish a teaching schedule that limited movement without removing too much of the normalcy that was going to be important for maintaining morale. Carrying over the small teapot she'd set to brew, Liana then placed a cup and saucer in front of Alastair before easing into her seat to set her own aside to wait. "Gathering together in the evenings will be important though, if only to bring structure to their downtime."

From her vantage, the magazine cover was not immediately easy to decipher, though Liana's gaze was drawn primarily through a vague recollection of similar issues in her father's vast collection. She smiled, glad at least that Alastair had bought himself something whilst weighing himself with things on her behalf. "Maybe there's scope for some sort of casual open mic opportunities." As she spoke, her brow flickered, the twinge of puzzlement twisting her head to the side in an attempt to place the cover's familiarity.

She was right, of course, which did put a damper on trying to plan any sort of spirit-raising they could do. In the end that's why she has been placed in charge of the castle, while he had been placed in charge of the castle's old piano. That wry thought caused him some amusement at least, and he softly smirked to himself. "We can do open mic night. Maybe some instruments, I've got some students that can play well enough. Or poetry readings. Storybook readings. Miss Gardner could do something with lighting and presentation. McMillen could do some decorations. Make it a little cultural thing."

When he noticed her eyes drawn to the magazine he chuckled softly and reached for it, slid it closer to her and turned it right side up so she wouldn't have to look at the front cover upside down. "Look, it's us. Remember a while back, in the before times, we went for lunch? And there was this photographer?"

It came with the job, that ability to measure her response no matter the internal reaction. Whether it was a sign of stress or simply the company she was in, Liana utterly failed to dredge up the professional instinct, succumbing instead to the long stare of compounding disbelief. She recalled the incident now, of course, but had forgotten about it almost as quickly as it had passed because the other events of the day had been a far more satisfying preoccupation. At the time, she'd passed it off as something Alastair had to deal with, had even found the concept of exposed privacy a little fascinating. Now, the timing couldn't have been worse, and the headlined screamed up at her in opposition of all current efforts to lighten everyone's load rather than add to it.

"Oh Alastair, I'm sorry." Liana had no idea why she was apologising other than an expectation that this kind of attention put him at greater risk. Perhaps there was a smidge of awkwardness of the implications of the advertised article, which Liana found herself both intrigued by and dreading. "We should have been more careful." She frowned. "And I should have brushed my hair." The jest was meant in kindness, as it occurred a little later than usual that he might be concerned for her own offense. "I don't think I've been called exotic before."

"What're you apologizing for?" Al quirked a brow. He glanced at the front page again. The headline reading 'Who is this exotic beauty?' had amused him; he saw nothing wrong or inaccurate with it. Attention back to Liana, he looked a bit confused. "You ok? Want me to put it away? I haven't read the actual article yet, figured we could do that together, have a bit of a chuckle," it was obvious what the music teacher thought of papparazzi like this; something he'd had to deal with enough back when Somnium Tenebris was at their height. "I mean, if you're up for it. It's ok if not." he added, offering her a simple out if needed.

It took a moment for Liana to respond. She had taken a breath to explain her apology and held it once she realised she had no firm idea herself why it had felt necessary. The trip had been her doing, perhaps that's all it was. Concern for the timing, for the exposure at a point where scrutiny was already high. That it might tarnish his desire to repeat the outing once it was possible. The headline alone did quite a job of holding her directly accountable for the invasion of his privacy, at least, and the imposition of publicity that sought to sensationalise aspects of his new life. Or are you just worried he will find the whole notion funny?

Liana smiled.

"I've never been in a tabloid before, of course I want to hear it."

All things considered, the playfulness in her eyes was reasonably convincing.

The article itself was actually nice and respectful, very light on the wild speculations. The main spread was a fun picture of the two of them laughing over some joke one of them said, with a few more serious inserts to vary up the pages. The article spoke of Alastair's protest songs at Avalon, about how it had been two years since he was last regularly seen among the people. And then the piece turned to the subject of Liana.

It got her identity right, Liana Zhao, former violin prodigy. It mentioned how the two of them had performed at the fair at Avalon, a rock interpretation of a famous classic piece. It spoke of how the two of them seemed to get along so well, and how they seemed to be made for each other, and ended with the question of how long they'd been in a relationship, because they were so obviously boyfriend and girlfriend.

Try as she might, Liana had struggled to arrive at an opinion, much less any sort of compromise regarding how to feel about the piece. The overall tone was reassuring and, for that, she was thankful since it had stayed away from the current political quagmire and treated Alastair with the respect he deserved. She was also pleasantly surprised, though a little taken aback, to have her own identity mentioned, much less any effort made into uncovering her background. There would be time enough to ponder the oddness of a stranger's scrutiny, however, because the final paragraph had upended the entire apple cart. Though she was surrounded by them, Liana was no longer a teenager, and knew well enough that the flutter of nerves in her stomach was more or less confirmation of a suspicion she already held. It was so casual, though, the flippant assumption that the first assertion was correct and the only remaining mystery was the duration of the relationship, not the actual existence of it. As Alastair had read, Liana had eased into a position with her chin propped up against a closed fist. Now, as he finished, she slowly drew herself up and took her teacup with her for a sip to buy a moment to consider a response.

"It reads like you are missed," she eventually said, settling for a warm smile and an intent not to overthink. "This new project is going to make a lot of people very happy."

"That's, in part, what I'm doing it for," he answered her spoken comment, though it was the words she didn't say, the reaction she didn't have, that struck him. The words were right there, black and white, on the page. Underneath the two-page spread of them laughing at something one of them had said, having a great time. He regarded the words for a moment, thoughts racing. Many of his waking thoughts were of her, and seeing her was always a highlight of his day. She had become his anchor when he was tired, when he was stressed. He'd almost admitted it to himself before that he'd fallen in love, but dismissed it as a silly crush. After all, what would a refined lady like her need with a washed up rock musician like him. Her complete lack of shock or dismay at the article though, the matter-of-factness with which she glossed over the closing paragraphs, made him think that maybe...

"So," he eventually spoke, pointing at the final paragraph of the article. "Do you want the job?" he inquired, soft smile on rogueish features, as he gently reached for her hand - though leaving it up to her to take it or not. "Position's available, you know."

It was so utterly in keeping with everything she'd come to expect of the man, and enjoy about his company, that Liana found herself inexplicably inclined to laugh amidst a surge of affection strong enough to curb the desire lest it be misconstrued. In truth, it was only the magnitude of recent events that kept her from preoccupation regarding Alastair Temple and, even then, it amounted to more of an acceptance of her reliance on his presence than any attempt to avoid thinking about him. Avalon had a history of hidden treasures but Liana hadn't expected to find her own, nor had she been necessarily looking for it. Even now, it was hard to set aside previous failures, her personal life was not the success she'd forged from her professional choices. A failed marriage born out of deceit, a complex friendship with a mutant whose own powers left him unable to connect... She had at least arrived at a point where she had adequately dodged her family's attempts at arranging matters on her behalf but all that had been left was a tired acceptance that circumstance was not on her side.

Until now.

And it didn't feel like it should be that simple, that effortless, but it was the easiest transition she'd ever had to make. One minute she had only known Alastair as a fleeting figure on the periphery of her father's taste in music. Now, he was a constant, and Liana realised as she studied his face that she hadn't even considered for a moment a time when life would separate them. It was usually the first consideration, responsible for every opportunity she'd ever avoided. Liana may have avoided laughter but there was not enough willpower in existence to stop the spread of a genuine smile from reaching her eyes as she took his offered hand between both of hers and asked, with mischief fully intended, "Mr. Temple, are you asking me out?"

"I suppose I am," was Al's easy reply, her smile matched by his, fingers curling up slightly to grasp hers, their hands intwined as were their lives. A professional relationship, being fellow faculty (though technically at the moment she was his boss, though he elected to ignore this fact for now). A creative relationship, through their musical project - even though he was the driving force behind it, he fully welcomed her input and she would share writing credit on Temple of Zhao's debut album. And now -

"I guess what I'm saying is that I've grown very fond of you, Liana. In ways I did not think I'd ever feel. You balance me. You ground me. And I feel like you bring out the best in me, and I want to be my best for you," A moment's hesitation, a glance down as if to gather courage before meeting her gaze again. "Liana Zhao, would you be willing to enter a more - ... romantic type of relationship with me, and be my girlfriend?"

It felt decadent, amidst everything that was going on, to feel a thrill that in anyway resembled excitement. Certainly, it felt selfish to even be considering personal gain when two people were missing, with a presumption of far worse, but there was an argument to be made for the tragedy of recent events making it easier to confront the relatively minor risk of having one's heart broken. Reasons to avoid romance seemed frivolous when confronted by mortality and, though she felt a stab of guilt for the way her heartrate had accelerated, Liana didn't seek to use the bleakness as any sort of excuse to pull away. Cameron's fate could have been any one of theirs and the stark reality that life refused to pull punches made for a very good argument against wasting time.

That didn't mean she couldn't tease him a little bit. After all, he had started to sound adorably like a nervous teenager.

"I believe," Liana replied after a moment of sparkling eye contact, "that it is customary to ask a girl on a date before you pose that question, sir. We can always count this as a partial attempt." She nodded towards the magazine and then struggled against a grin as she proposed, "And I can certainly make myself free later this evening for a second." An eyebrow quirked playfully. "I'm sure we can arrange a nice tablecloth to go with our bowl of noodles." Trying to set up any kind of date when they couldn't leave the castle grounds was perhaps a tad ridiculous but they were both creative, and it seemed apt. A far more natural way to avoid it seeming transactional.

A momentary sense of panic set in Al, he didn't know what was costumary! He'd never had a 'normal' relationship and didn't know how they worked! He was mostly just reaching in the dark, trying to do things right. Plus, they'd been on dates already, hadn't they? He knew he was inexperienced and naive in the ways of romance. Maybe he should've studied up beforehand, but then - he did everything by the seat of his pants, that was part of who he was, that's just how he went through life. Her smile though calmed him. She was teasing him. That he could deal with. And while part of him was anxious enough without her teasing and just wanted an answer already, he'd humor her.

"I believe I'd like that very much," he answered when he'd calmed his heart down enough to speak without his voice breaking. "I do think there's a nice, rarely used space deeper down in the music room wing with great atmosphere and acoustics. I can set up a little table for a nice meal," get some candles, have some soft music playing to add to the atmosphere, and if they time it right the moonlight should cast through the windows to enhance a romantic atmosphere.

A moment of thoughtfulness passed. As light-headed as she felt, Liana had made a living out of reading body language and tone of speech and it had occurred to her, perhaps a little too late to take it into consideration, that this wasn't an area where Alastair's projection of self-confidence necessarily found it easy to flourish. If anything, it was a reassurance, as Liana was far from an expert in navigating her own fortitude when it came to affairs of the heart, but it did leave her realising he may deserve a little more from her than coy evasiveness.

One hand, leaving the other to remain locked with his, lifted to settle against the texture of a bearded jawline. In the moment, she lacked his eloquence and relied, instead, on the honest sentiment in her unwavering eye contact to accompany the gesture. The touch lingered only briefly before the stretch of distance prompted her to lower the hand again, but it at least honoured a compulsion she'd been fighting for a while now.

"Just be yourself," she quietly advised after the silent exchange resolved itself naturally. It was an attempt to address the nervousness she sensed, a stab in the dark at anticipating from his confession that Alastair wasn't sure how best to proceed. "I promise it's more than enough."

"Oof, you're asking a lot of me, you know that?" Alastair's turn to tease. The gentle touch to his bearded visage had been met with an equally gentle lean into the touch, though his eyes never left hers, and as he replied to her comment meant to comfort him, his smile turned somewhat mischievous. "Everyone wears a mask everywhere. Nobody is the same with everybody, and you're asking me to be myself," A brow quirked, coy smile turning more sincere, more warm. "A'ight, you want the real me, you're getting the real me."

For the first time in days, Liana felt the slightest pang of comforting anticipation. It was a welcome change from the constant looming dread that seemed intent on suffocating them all, even if the latter promised to be the more persistent. As much as Alastair might have posed it as a playful threat, there was no other way Liana could think to proceed. She'd tried compartmentalising, it had ended her marriage. Whatever eventuated, she could at least attempt to avoid the same mistakes with Alastair. An elegantly raised eyebrow met his challenge over the exaggeration of poise as she took a sip of tea. Then, Liana dipped her head as if accepting an offer.

"Deal."

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