[ There isn't any knocking at the door. That would be the normal, human thing to do. The thing you do when you're used to doing it.
Over the past couple years Nico has gotten used to something else entirely. It takes him three steps forward from where he is, falling into shadows without thought and shifting through them, narrowing down the location each time before there's something darker in the deepest shadows of Lark's apartment and Nico steps through them.
It doesn't take that much to go such a short distance alone. ]
Nico emerges somewhere in the living area. It's not a particularly big apartment, but it does look lived-in and cozy—until recently, Lark was living here with someone else. He might be able to spot Lark at the kitchenette with his back turned to him. It looks like he's making a pot of tea. ]
Does he even like tea? ...Guess I'll find out soon enough...
[ Actually, he rather likes tea well enough. In Italy in the 1920s it had been a common drink, so it isn't like Nico finds it old fashioned or odd or anything. He's been living in America for a few years now (and the future) but that doesn't erase the childhood he spent in Europe. ]
[ Lark very nearly jumps, startled. He doesn't actually make a sound however, and instead instantly reaches for a knife from the block on the counter, pulling it out and turning around— ]
Oh it's just Nico and he almost pulled a knife on him like a genius (good job, Skylark). This totally isn't awkward at all. He can still salvage this (right? right???).
So he'll lower the knife, looking quite embarrassed of himself. ]
[ Nico hadn't pulled a weapon in response, at least. But he goes to take a seat, sort of peering around to find someplace comfortable and out of the way.
He's quiet company - Percy and Jason were more likely to fill silences than he was. ]
[ There's a couch right in front of a coffee table, which seems about as comfortable as it gets. In a moment, Lark comes over with a tray carrying a teapot and a pair of teacups and sets it down. ]
Thanks for coming. [ He's pouring them both a drink. ] And...thanks for agreeing to hold hands?
[ Nico doesn't spread out much when he sits. He sort of folds into himself instead, one leg pulled up against his chest so he's perched there more comfortably, watching Lark pour the tea with some sort of quiet in his expression. ]
[ Inwardly grimacing at himself, even if it's not showing much on his face. He pushes one teacup closer to Nico, then takes one for himself and sits next to him on the couch. ]
[ At least they're both awkward losers. Nico takes the teacup and wonders if this isn't a stall tactic, because their hands are full cradling them. Cowardice or nerves? He thinks of how other people might handle it. ]
[ It is a bit of a stall tactic, but also drinking tea helps calm his own nerves. There's also the fact he'll put the teacup down once he's had a few sips. ]
[ Please hold, he has to cut himself off before he wheezes because that'd definitely give the wrong impression. It takes him a moment to recompose himself. ]
Sorry, first time anyone's told me that. [ Friendly, yeah, but apparently he didn't seem particularly cheerful to most people. ]
[ Nico may have a biased view: he hangs out with the dead more than he should, and kids with lives that are basically one long line of ptsd otherwise, and, like...
Maybe it's how he feels like Lark feels. Bubbly might not be the word, but it's less sickly sweet than anything else that comes to mind. ]
Shut up, it's just - I figured you'd have a ton of people to ask.
It's cute. [ Just a quick observation. ] But...well, even if I do know a bunch of people, that doesn't mean I'd be okay just asking them for help with this. [ And in any case, it feels kind of embarrassing and like he's putting too much of an onus on someone else over his well-being. ]
Before this, I got by 'cause my roommate would hug me and stuff even if I didn't ask, but... [ Hm. There's no way for him to say this without it sounding kind of alarming, huh. ] He's gone now, so...
[ Were they close? Lark isn't sure how to place it, because it's not like he told Nazuna a lot of things about himself. But it had been easy to be comfortable with him, like how he was with his sisters back home. ]
How do I put it... He was like an older brother, I guess. But you don't have to worry.
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Over the past couple years Nico has gotten used to something else entirely. It takes him three steps forward from where he is, falling into shadows without thought and shifting through them, narrowing down the location each time before there's something darker in the deepest shadows of Lark's apartment and Nico steps through them.
It doesn't take that much to go such a short distance alone. ]
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Nico emerges somewhere in the living area. It's not a particularly big apartment, but it does look lived-in and cozy—until recently, Lark was living here with someone else. He might be able to spot Lark at the kitchenette with his back turned to him. It looks like he's making a pot of tea. ]
Does he even like tea? ...Guess I'll find out soon enough...
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[ Actually, he rather likes tea well enough. In Italy in the 1920s it had been a common drink, so it isn't like Nico finds it old fashioned or odd or anything. He's been living in America for a few years now (and the future) but that doesn't erase the childhood he spent in Europe. ]
1/3
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Oh it's just Nico and he almost pulled a knife on him like a genius (good job, Skylark). This totally isn't awkward at all. He can still salvage this (right? right???).
So he'll lower the knife, looking quite embarrassed of himself. ]
Uh. Sorry about that.
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He blinks, too.
Right. Doors... ]
...Sorry. I haven't shadow traveled around you before, have I.
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[ Some mild attempt at dry humor. Granted, Lark looks kind of pale and unwell himself. ]
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I...it's habit getting around like that. I can, uh, try to knock next time.
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Go and take a seat. I'll get the tea.
[ And put back the knife, which he's doing right now. ]
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He's quiet company - Percy and Jason were more likely to fill silences than he was. ]
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Thanks for coming. [ He's pouring them both a drink. ] And...thanks for agreeing to hold hands?
[ Words he didn't think he'd ever say,,, ]
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...That sounds so awkward when you, like.
[ Say it. ]
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[ Inwardly grimacing at himself, even if it's not showing much on his face. He pushes one teacup closer to Nico, then takes one for himself and sits next to him on the couch. ]
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I kind of figured you'd, like...
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[ It is a bit of a stall tactic, but also drinking tea helps calm his own nerves. There's also the fact he'll put the teacup down once he's had a few sips. ]
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[ You know. Friendly. Nico knows why he has the issue of not getting enough contact, but somehow he never suspected Lark would have the same issue.
It's surprising somehow. ]
...bubbly.
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Pfft...
[ Please hold, he has to cut himself off before he wheezes because that'd definitely give the wrong impression. It takes him a moment to recompose himself. ]
Sorry, first time anyone's told me that. [ Friendly, yeah, but apparently he didn't seem particularly cheerful to most people. ]
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Maybe it's how he feels like Lark feels. Bubbly might not be the word, but it's less sickly sweet than anything else that comes to mind. ]
Shut up, it's just - I figured you'd have a ton of people to ask.
[ Like Percy, like Jason. Sunshine sons. ]
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It's cute. [ Just a quick observation. ] But...well, even if I do know a bunch of people, that doesn't mean I'd be okay just asking them for help with this. [ And in any case, it feels kind of embarrassing and like he's putting too much of an onus on someone else over his well-being. ]
Before this, I got by 'cause my roommate would hug me and stuff even if I didn't ask, but... [ Hm. There's no way for him to say this without it sounding kind of alarming, huh. ] He's gone now, so...
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[ If he looks wide eyed and unsure it's because Nico has No clue how to comfort people.
And also because he has no idea how to handle the "cute" thing. ]
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How do I put it... He was like an older brother, I guess. But you don't have to worry.
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Sounds like it was a decent set up, anyway.
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It was. Now the apartment feels kinda empty.
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[ Gestures, vaguely. Like a vague cat. ]
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