.:understanding:.
The intricacy of Sulpicia's braids lends a façade of precise logic to the unruffled serenity of her features, but everything about her is misleading. The embroidered cushions beside her are pockmarked with crescent-moon tears where her nails have dug deep, and the edges of the parchment across her knees are deeply creased. Her mood changes and swirls, unpredictable as a spring river.
Footsteps, brisk and insistent on the library's soft carpet, interrupt her reverie. Glancing up, she sees Caius, scowling as always though less dour without the whispering darkness of his cloak. Flinching, she wonders whether she can depart without him noticing but she doubts it—sharpened senses will have noticed her presence.
He heads towards her immediately and she wonders how her day could get any worse.
"I apologize about the previous night. I did not intend to disturb you," she murmurs politely, unsure how to treat this stern, almost-brother whom she barely knows.
He waves a dismissive hand, "I should have chosen a different room. I wanted to speak with you about something else."
She nods and looks at him attentively, wondering what could be important enough to have him seek her out.
"Aro didn't tell you about his gift," he says, because Caius has no tact.
She buries her head in her hands. How is it that everybody here knows her business, even if they have no supernatural talents?
"Did he ask you to do this?" she demands.
"No. He didn't tell me about his ability for a while either. He learned every detail of my life before I realized the extent of his power." The white-haired man's voice is pinched, as though he hasn't forgiven his own stupidity.
"You're still here, though. You didn't leave?" The idea of someone knowing every nuance of her thoughts and viewing the fading labyrinth of her memories fills her with deep, irrational fear. It isn't the forced intimacy that chills her, but the certainty that her mind contains crystalline darkness. Anyone who sees the creature behind the beautiful eyes is sure to distrust her at best.
"I wanted to. My mortal life was enough to frighten anyone. That's the thing with Aro—no matter what he sees in someone's head, it will fascinate him." Sulpicia cannot suppress her smile; Caius' description of her lover is wonderfully accurate.
"Aro will not judge you for whatever secrets you are keeping," he says, then moves to get up.
"Why are you telling me this?" she asks, confused entirely now.
"Because Aro wasn't entirely fair to you…and because now you owe me a favour. When you inevitably make amends with my brother, wreck Marcus' room, alright?" He smiles, the gesture as brilliant and unexpected as summer lightning, before walking away.
Sulpicia interlaces her fingers together, tilts her head back and allows herself to consider, only for a moment, the possibility that Aro will not be startled by the calculating stillness tainting her thoughts.
Author's Note: In my mind, Sulpicia and Caius are quite close. They know Aro the best, they both don't have gifts and Sulpicia can appreciate Caius' logic and stubbornness. I can see them having an older-brother/younger-sister sort of relationship.