A more modern sort of date

[adifferentlife]

Not every night can be spent at restaurants or the theatre, especially when Sybil understands the frustrations of living on a budget now. This doesn't mean she wants to spend any less time with Henri, so she plans a night in, after consulting with Katie and a few of the girls at work as to just what she should do. They spoke of plans and ideas, and there was some giggling on the part of the other girls when Sybil mentioned her concerns with being alone in her home with a suitor. Eventually she was won over to the idea, trusting both in Henri's honour and the knowledge that this wouldn't cause a scandal here in Darrow.

Now she has everything ready; wine and beer in the refrigerator, a few movies that were suggested and an electric popcorn machine she hopes she can master. The only thing missing is her date himself. She pours herself a glass of the crisp white, breathing in the fruitiness of it before taking a sip and settling in with a book to wait.

Comments

[jaimemieux]

Combeferre had long been drawn to the theater - to epic stories of romance and war, sometimes laced with politics and philosophy, and other times merely human adventure, and sorrow, and joy.

Casablanca had it all. He had read just enough about the history of the twentieth century to follow the plot’s broader context. Though the story - it’s tale of freedom, and love, and betrayal, and sacrifice, wrapped in fight for the greater good - would have reached his heart even if the details had been entirely unknown to him.

“Indeed,” he said softly, flashing Sybil a gentle, sad smile. “But in times of struggle, I suppose we all must rise above our own desires."

[adifferentlife]

"I suppose that we must," she says as she considers it. The war that she knew had meant a great deal of change for everyone, and at Downton for Matthew and Thomas the most. For herself as well, though she cannot compare going to war with being a nurse. "I wonder, would I have done the same?"

[jaimemieux]

“For a country’s freedom, and for the life of someone you love? I think we are all capable of any number of things.” He smiled softly, letting his fingers brush her cheek, but then sheepishly dropping his hand. “It was a very good film. The best I have seen, I would wager."

[adifferentlife]

"You are likely right," she admits, her cheeks growing warm at his touch. Such a brief little thing and yet her stomach jumps, the touch both sweet and intimate. She doesn't mind it, in fact, she likes it a great deal.

"How many are you comparing it to," she asks lightly, her voice betraying none of her thoughts. "Is it a group of very many?"

[jaimemieux]

“Not many,” Combeferre was forced to admit, laughing softly. He reached for the wine bottle - still mostly full - and filled up both their glasses. “But we have said they are a bit like theater, oui? These films? And have you ever seen a play, and been immediately certain it is the best you will see all year - and never mind that it is January.”

[adifferentlife]

She nods as he does, knowing that what he says is very true. "I know that it wasn't the play we saw together. But this.. This may be, I think that you're right. Only this is December now, isn't it? We'll have to begin again in January."

She starts, realising something horrible. "I forgot to make the popcorn," she apologises. "It was supposed to be a part of all this."

[jaimemieux]

"Well, we have had many the new beginning recently, yes? Why not one more?" Combeferre blushed a little, though his smile was nearly sly.

When she mentioned popcorn - a food with which he had become familiar, but that he still found odd - he lifted his brows in puzzlement. "Oh? Is it to do with the film?"

[adifferentlife]

"It's supposed to be eaten when you watch the film. In cinemas they always have it." It's become something of a treat, the few times she's gone to the movies. "I suppose we may just have to have another movie, another time. As it must be done properly."

"I think that we have," she says, that same shyness creeping into her tone. She pushes it away, thinking of something else she might talk of lest she forget herself and kiss him here and now. "Speaking of, I had a thought for Christmas. I've been thinking on what we spoke of, about knowing how to become involved in this place? About causes and what we might find? There's a charity that feeds the poor and on Christmas Eve they are having a special dinner for any who might not be as fortunate as we are. They need people to serve the meal, and I thought perhaps, before mass?"

[jaimemieux]

Surprise flashed across Henri’s face as he looked into her earnest eyes, and he nearly laughed - not at her, exactly, but at the sheer wonder of her, and of her overspilling heart. Charity had not been on his mind when he had spoken of the hole in his life once filled by politics; in fact, it was precisely charity’s lack of direction, however noble the intentions, that made him long for what he had had in Paris. Feeding hungry people was good, yes, but it would not stop them from going hungry again - not in Paris, and not in Darrow, either, he suspected.

Not that Combeferre imagined refusing Sybil’s suggestion - not even for a moment. Hungry people did not care about the bigger picture, and certainly not on Christmas. You have spent too much time around Enjolras, to be worrying about such matters,, he thought ruefully, though with a pang of homesickness.

“You are remarkable,” he said, and he did laugh with fondness. He took one of her hands in both of his. “That is a wonderful idea, ma cherie."

[adifferentlife]

"I'm very glad you think so. Not that I'm remarkable," she says with a gentle laugh. Though it is nice to hear, and nicer to hear the term of endearment. "But that it's a good idea."

Sybil wouldn't argue his thoughts. She knows that charity without some meaningful work to forment change is a paltry thing. But it has a place, especially in a society such as this where near everyone seems to have enough, and especially at a time such as Christmas. That he's agreed is a pleasure, her hands squeezing his as she closes the gap to kiss him how she's been thinking of for most of the evening.

[jaimemieux]

“A little remarkable, at least,” Combeferre teased, though he was swiftly cut short by Sybil’s kiss. He had been cautious with her, and still intended to be, but for the moment he sank into the kiss with happy surprise, bringing one hand up to cup her cheek.

[adifferentlife]

It's more than they've done before -- more than she's done before -- their other kisses always brief and whilst never proper not nearly as over the line as this. Sybil can't even blame the wine, having barely drunk a glass, nor would she want to. This is her own intitiative, of her own making. She mirrors him, taking the lead and brushing her fingertips across his cheek as she does not pull away, at least, not yet.

[jaimemieux]

With a soft sigh, Combeferre shifted closer - nothing dramatic, but enough to close the gap between them. He trailed his fingers lightly into her hair, and only after another long moment did he finally break away. Lingering close, he smiled, gentle and warm, but with a touch of uncertainty, unsure how she would now react.

[adifferentlife]

The breath she takes is a deep one, trying to calm herself and order her thoughts. The kiss has been invigorating, furthering the things she's felt each and every time they've kissed. Yet she's relieved that he pulls back, knowing she would have had to do the same herself in only a few moments more.

"I-" Sybil struggles for what to say. In the end, there's only one thing she can settle on, one thing that is proper. "Perhaps we should say good night?"

[jaimemieux]

Henri blushed. “Yes. Of course.” Though Sybil had initiated the kiss, he felt responsible for the uncertainty now bright in her eyes. Tread carefully here.

He pressed his lips to her forehead - briefly, chastely - and then stood. “This has been a lovely evening. As always. Thank you."

[adifferentlife]

She's flushing as well, and feels awful knowing that it was her who started the kiss. If only Mary were here to talk to, Edith even. They could help her sort her thoughts and guide her, as right now she feels adrift and caught up all at once.

Sybil stands with him, taking his hand between her own. "It has been a wonderful evening. Will I see you again?"

[jaimemieux]

“I certainly hope so,” Combeferre said, and laughed a little at his eagerness, ducking his head. “I- yes. If I have not- Alors, I hope I have not overstepped…"

[adifferentlife]

"No, I should apologise for being caught up in it all," she says, offering a nervous smile. It's a relief that he isn't offended by her sudden ending of the evening. "But there are things, it's silly, I suppose we never did things like this when I am from. Dating, that is. We met people at parties or dinners, or simply knew them growing up. Then one day we'd get engaged and be married to someone."

Only she knows that's not what will happen to her, if what thomas has told her is true, and she's no reason to believe that it's a lie. If she does elope with Branson what does it say about her? And what does it say about the way Henri is winning her heart now? "I thought it would be simple, but it seems it's all rather complicated."

[jaimemieux]

“It isn’t silly at all,” Henri assured her, He tucked a stray lock of her hair behind her ear. “I cannot say I understand any of it better myself - what people might expect here, or... what you might expect.” He blushed a little and took a breath. “I suppose we will have to muddle through together, oui?"

[adifferentlife]

"Yes, I think that we shall." Her agreement is shy and almost tentative but it is heartfelt. Her smile grows at the touch, just as it does each and every time he touches her so. "I have had a good night, honestly."

[jaimemieux]

"As have I." He dropped her hands with a certain reluctance, though he was smiling. "But I should depart. I shall telephone you? Or- well, yes, I suppose that would be simplest, wouldn't it?"

[adifferentlife]

"It would." She lets her fingers drift past his as they pull away, smiling at him as he does at her. "I would like it very much if you did. Especially if it means you use the telephone more often."

[jaimemieux]

Combeferre chuckled softly. “Then you should expect my call.” He kissed her temple lightly - again, with careful chasteness. “Goodnight, cherie."

[adifferentlife]

"Good night," she says softly, finally letting him leave and shutting the door quietly between them. The night was good but also a challenge to her, in ways that were completely unexpected.