I had this idea for my To Begin Again thing but you know what I really love it so much to the point where I'll do it here first. Enjoy, as you can see, rather than preparing for my birthday, this is what I'll be doing haha. I'd like to say that this is placed after the paper magician, but surely before the glass magician, I think. forgive me heavily if this is horrid, I have just returned to fanfiction writing again as of late.

"When you were in your vegetative state, I had plenty of time to ponder while Alfred was panicking." Emery looked up to Patrice, seeing that she had come from the hallway and was only one foot into the study. To her character, she didn't knock, choosing to emanate a dominance that Emery had already seen through many times before from his time with her in school and in professional settings. It was late at night, his body still recovering from the hell it had been put through but it didn't stop him from folding a simple square piece of paper idly. Patrice had chosen to visit, to check if any effects from Lira's had continued on. Despite his claims it had not, Patrice still wanted to make sure. "I was thinking about your future, like most do when their fellow colleague is supposedly at their death bed."

"Patrice, this isn't really necessary." Oh, how she loved to meddle with everything that seemed to revolve around him. He knew what these types of talks typically entailed. It hadn't been the first time he had this conversation with the Gaffer, with the previous talks lasting hours upon end, back when his behavior towards teaching his apprentices certainly wasn't the best. He inhaled a sharp breath, already bracing for impact. She stepped forward, reaching halfway through the study.

"Nothing is ever necessary with you, Emery. I'm a bit your senior and I'm sure you're aware I have lived a life of regret and sorrow." Her face, for once, was not contorted to a deep frown, but rather one of bittersweetness. He wondered what memories were flashing through her mind. "I missed so many opportunities. You seem to be following in my footsteps and it's not quite a satisfying picture so far."

Emery sat on his desk, legs crossed and remained silent. He was glad he had perfected a face of indifference, with the hue of spring in his eyes being the only indicator that he hid from her. Seeing that she was getting nowhere beating around the bush, Patrice sighed and crossed her arms in a stance that reminded him who he was talking to. Patrice Aviosky, her lips constantly pursed and shoulders stiffer than a wooden board. She didn't typically open herself out there, especially regarding her private life, so perhaps he should be grateful.

"Dropping pretenses, I do want to see you happy, Emery. I know you want children and I'm fairly certain that you deserve someone who will love you the way you need to be. Someone who will hold you through thick and thin, giving you all you desire because it's what you need."

The tension in the paper was strong enough to almost rip, but it didn't.

This talk again, of course. He supposed a near-death experience was enough to warrant this, but even then. He didn't need it. "I don't need to find anybody, Patrice. I'm fine on my own. I've lived long enough on my own to the point where people aren't necessary."

"Please, Emery, you amuse me." She scoffed, "Look around you, this cottage is empty. The only thing you have that remotely resembles company is Jonto and a paper dog. Ceony doesn't count because..." Patrice trailed off, mouth agape. Emery raised an eyebrow, surprised that she paused herself, as if she was recalling a previous event she had witnessed.

He leaned a tad bit forward, as if her words would escape him if he wasn't close enough, folding and unfolding that mere piece of paper. Raising an eyebrow, he gave her an amused look despite the fuming feeling he had in the pit of his stomach.

"Because?"

"Because she's your apprentice. Nothing more, nothing less, here for a short time before she leaves like every other apprentice." Patrice responded curtly. Ah, she had seen something he hadn't. He wondered why, did Ceony get too close while he wasn't conscious? Then again, her definition of close wasn't the international standard.

"I still don't understand why she doesn't count. You cannot expect me not to object to you refusing to call Ceony company."

"Don't patronize me."

He scoffed, rolling his shoulders back to try to remain composed.

"Besides, that is beyond the point." Ah, so she doesn't want to talk about it. "You don't want to die alone, Emery. Without a family, without a love who will give you everything through thick and thin. Someone who will love you without expecting anything in return, loving you and the family you could have with someone."

"Projecting your own regrets isn't going to help me with my supposed loneliness." Emery snapped, becoming tired of this mere conversation. Patrice's resolve faded and Emery let out a low breath. He stood, grabbing some books Ceony had taken out earlier in the day and began putting them back with one hand. The other continued to fold and unfold skillfully. "Besides, Patrice, what you are saying is pure fantasy. There are hardly any more individuals who would do that."

And as if she was a part of this self-reflective skit in his own play and her character was ready to emerge from the wings and give a monologue to object to his words, Ceony stepped forward, knocking on the open door. "Don't worry about it Mg. Thane, I'll do it."

The paper ripped in his hand, his precise folding interrupted.

Emery's head snapped up, with Patrice's slowly following. His mouth opened agape, a sharp intake of breath coming from both of the magicians. Patrice glanced to Emery, her face showing a large clash between something Emery couldn't quite place. Ceony looked between her two seniors and smiled awkwardly. Emery tried to come out with something to say, but he was caught way off guard and judging by her expression, so was Patrice. "Sorry, I just remembered I left some books out here. Don't clean them up, Mg. Thane, I'll do it." She took a few strides to reach to Emery, taking the books from his hands and placing them in the correct shelves. He nodded late, but tried to remain as though what coincidence that was placed on his lap didn't bother him. Instead, he allowed her to finish.

"Ceony, shouldn't you be asleep?" He inquired, his mouth finally seeming to work. Patrice also seemed to be awestruck, but kept it underneath a thin lip.

"I was getting to it, actually, Mg. Thane." Ceony responded, "Then I remembered the mess I put out here. It was quite unprofessional, I do apologize." Placing the last book in, she nodded to the two magicians. "I'm sorry for bothering both of you as well, I'll head back to bed. Good night, Mg. Aviosky, Mg. Thane."

The two magicians responded with equal responses and watched as she left the room. It took a moment before Patrice finally began to speak once more. Although, her resolve towards her original content seemed to be fading faster with each second that passed.

"As I was saying-"

"Patrice, could we leave this conversation for tomorrow?" Emery finally said, "I was just going to pick up after Ceony before retiring to bed. You have a bit of a trip from the cottage tomorrow anyway, don't you?"

Patrice frowned, then nodded in defeat, "Alright. I will see you tomorrow. Good night."

"Good night." She curtly made her way out and once Emery couldn't hear her footsteps anymore, he looked at the torn paper, his brows furrowed.

"There's nobody like that, not in any capacity." He muttered, placing the perfectly torn paper on his desk, planning to ponder on this matter tomorrow. Emery made his way out of the study, shutting the lights off and closing the door behind him, one last thought hitting him in the face:

Right?