To avoid confusion, please read:
Author's Note: First of all I want to thank all of those who have reviewed, favorited, alerted and etc. this story. It makes me feel amazing, so thank you! Now, about this chapter— the first 'chapter' was originally a one-fic, and I was planning on writing a lot of little fluff chapters to come after it. These chapters are NOT IN ORDER nor are they RELATED to each other in any close manners. I feel like if they were, it'd be too much fluff for one book. So the 'chapters' are just different fluff one-scenes that I thought were cute. I hope that doesn't upset/ disappoint anybody, but I appreciate your loyalty to the story and thank you for reading!
Please enjoy!
Jill had not fully accommodated herself with her new roommate, Angeline. And though I didn't blame her, I thought it was strange when she asked if she could hang out in my room. Personally, after dorming with her almost all semester, I didn't mind. But from my professional point of view, she couldn't stay long, and I warned her that she'd have to get used to Angeline eventually. She had nodded in quick agreement and settled herself on the floor. I had chosen the desk to do complete my work. And the hour flew by with us working in silence. After all, we both had a lot of catching up to do.
Jill had been lying down with her homework, seemingly comfortable with hanging out in my room, when she spoke up.
"Sydney?"
"Hm?" I kept my eyes on a book. We had a test this Friday and with all the drama that had occurred in the past week, I hadn't had that much time to complete the reading assignments for English. It was Fitzgerald, a classic. So I had already read it, but it's been years since, and I didn't feel comfortable taking a test on it unless I at least brushed up on the details.
Jill hesitated. I looked up, hoping she didn't think I wasn't paying attention. "What is it?"
She bit her lip. I suddenly got the feeling that in the past hour, I was the only one in the room actually working; Jill seemed to be deep in thought, as if trying to resolve a conflict in her head.
I saw her fidget with her pen, when suddenly she met my eyes. "Do you think Adrian is a good guy?"
Her question was surprised me. But I held back a groan at the turn in conversation. Adrian was the last person I wanted to be talking about. But answering Jill's question wasn't torturous. She seemed purely curious, innocent as always.
I hesitated before answering, carefully phrasing my answer. "In the inside," I settled on, "I believe he has good intentions. He struggles with certain decisions sometimes, but I think he knows what the right thing is."
Jill made a soft noise, agreeing. Eyeing her, I hoped that answer was suitable for her curiosity, but I could sense her anxiety.
"So would you…think of him as a friend type?"
I hesitated. The time I've spent with all of them, even out of professional circumstances, created a sort of relationship between us. It was strange to admit, but after everything, it only seemed right that I would call them friends. I bit my tongue—no matter my true feelings or not, my reply, my inner thoughts, were dangerous. If the Alchemists knew how close I was letting myself get to them . . . A brief flash of Keith, in the room stories underground, brought a shiver up my back.
I shook my head free, reminding myself that Jill was still here.
She seemed oblivious, deep in her thoughts. And I realized, with some dread, the question was a filler for the real one she was preparing for. With her impatience, she moved on, not even noticing how I avoided her last question.
"Sydney…" she began, her green eyes holding mine, "Do you like Adrian?" she asked casually, a spark lighting up in her.
I knew from her eyes that she didn't mean 'like' the same way I might like puppies, or like chemistry sets, or like being relocated to warm cities. But my eyes still widened, my heart still jumped.
"I mean…" she took advantage of my taken aback hesitation, "Would you—"
I shut my book firmly, cutting off whatever suggestion she had planned to say. I stared at her. And when I responded, I set my tone: honest but without depth. "I like him. He's a good guy . . . despite all his vices. But we're friends. And that's as far as it'll go." Ever.
Jill nodded, seeming to hide her disappointment.
"Why would you think that anyway?" I asked skeptically.
"Nothing," Jill said, turning her head away from me.
"Jill," I told her warningly, "What is it?"
Jill shrugged. But made the mistake of meeting my eyes. To which were studying her so closely she gave in. "He just seems to get in a better mood whenever he sees you. I noticed it."
What started this? I thought incredulously. Flashes of my moments with Adrian appeared and left as quickly as they occurred. Of course, Jill would pick up on the tiniest hints—when Adrian would compliment me, and I'd react, blush or smile. Rare moments, true, but defined. And the bond she had with him didn't help matters. Of course she'd notice his emotions, the tiniest changes.
"Well, yeah," I decided to agree, processing this information. "But so he is with you, right?"
"I guess so," Jill said in a small voice, turning away from me again. "But he's never usually like that. Not just with you, but everyone. He's usually indifferent. After, what happened…with Rose…"
"We've just been spending a lot of time together." Even I heard the change in my tone, the defensiveness, desperation to find an alternative explanation. "With all that's been happening," I added, to clear up my voice. "The research and all."
Jill looked at me and nodded. But I sensed she didn't really believe me.
After a pause, I asked her. "Why are you analyzing this?" This was more that just her concern for Adrian's well being.
"I don't know. I just feel something. Sure, he's happy with me. But it's different with you. He's just...I don't know, brighter. Like when he's painting," Jill thought.
I pondered this.
"I guess I've just been picking up on some things too much. He's just been so…miserable since Rose. And I guess I got too excited. But I just want him to be happy. And I like you, Sydney. I want you to be happy too." Sincerity filled her every word. And I couldn't help but give a sympathetic look.
"Thank you, Jill," I said, truly grateful, "And it's nice of you to care about me. And I understand why Adrian's emotions are important to you too" —the emphasis implied between us— "But just because you want us happy, doesn't mean we have to be happy together, you know?" I kept our gaze, hoping she'd understand. Hoping she's let this idea go.
"Mm-hmm," she replied, her hope slowly crushing into tiny bits that would carry off in the wind.
I suddenly felt really bad. Jill had this affect on people— when her mood plummeted, those around her would too. Her affection unnerved me. In a way I always knew she was developing a friendship with me, a growing fondness. But I wasn't used to people caring about me the way she did, let alone admitting it aloud. Emotion that wasn't approving, but accepting. Thinking about it, a realization formed in my head. Other than from my mom, my receiving emotions have always been direct, serious, critical, or disapproving. There was no time for compliments. Then again it never seemed to bother me, until I came to California. Was my life really that…controlled?
"I know, Sydney," she told me gently, disrupting my thoughts, "About Alchemists and their views on us. And I know you of all people don't feel as against us as others. But…maybe I was just clinging to that one thing.."
"What thing?" I asked her, warily.
When her green eyes met mine, I was too stunned to speak or look away. And then, with her quiet voice and a shrug, she said, "You've seen Adrian. Love changes you, in the most powerful ways. It can break you apart, or it can make you change yourself. Even the beliefs you've followed since you were born, the life you've grown used to. The same factors that protect you from love in the first place."
I looked away before she could keep my eyes any longer. Because as her words settled around me, I had no idea what expression she'd see on my face.
Okay, so I know it's not the greatest chapter (to abrupt ending?- oh, i added a line, i hope it sounds better!... too wordy beginning?), but it was something that was sitting in my notebook, and I figured, what the heck, it's Adrian&Sydney fluff, and I added it to Beyond the Canvas. Anyway, keep in mind the author's note above, and I hope you still enjoyed the story! (how many days till Golden Lily? I'm counting them now…)
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