soul meets body | arden

mp | san diego | 2004

Neville steadied the door to the hotel room, one hand firmly on the handle and the other guiding the wooden barrier from moving too quickly and disrupting the man inside. After a soft click and an exhale, the subtle sound of Bancroft's snoring had faded away and left room for a new kind of quiet to acclimate to. "Ha," He chuckled to fill the gaps. The hallway was otherwise uninhabited aside from them, though he could hear what sounded like a whispered conversation a few doors down.

"He's prone to that lately," Neville shrugged, his voice still hushed. "Just falling asleep anywhere— armchair, sofa," There was an unmistakable air of sentimentality that had crept into his tone and washed over his features. By then, he figured Dash could see how much his mentor meant to him, how much he had learned from him.

Maybe it was because it was late and he was tired, or maybe it had to do with being on the other side of the world, but Neville was feeling inclined to be open. "I can walk you back?" He offered after another breath, glancing down the corridor despite not having a clue where her room was situated in the expansive establishment. As far as he could see everything really was bigger in America— it was overwhelming in an exciting kind of way.

More than anything, he wasn't quite ready for their night to end so abruptly.

@Arden Dasher

Dash breathed a silent sigh as the door clicked shut. She hadn’t even realised she’d been holding it, but she was sure it wasn't just because she didn't want to wake the old man up; there was something like anticipation in the action, too. She glanced at Neville. "Yeah?" She asked, a little of his sentimentality mirrored in her own easy smile. Arden Dasher had always been a very empathetic person, but there were moments where Neville was exceptionally readable (to her, at least), and this was one of them. "I wonder if we should have moved him to bed," she said, her words musing rather than a suggestion. She couldn't know for sure, of course, but she didn't feel like Benedick would like it if she was there for that.

Dash hovered, wondering if she should say goodbye now. She thought he'd closed the door so they didn't have to say goodnight with just whispers, but now that he was out here with her she wondered if she should suggest they go for a walk or something. What was the time, she wondered? He offered to walk her back to her room. "Oh! Yeah," she responded, smiling a little more at his suggestion, eyebrows raised just a touch in surprise. "Thanks." It was brighter in the hallway, but more intimate in other ways; there wasn't anyone else to be seen in either direction; just the two of them. Dash knew she wouldn't have had a thought like that a few weeks ago, but it was getting a little trickier to think about it with any other framing. They got on well, didn't they? She forgot he was only twenty-three most of the time, and he had a kind heart.

She started walking slowly towards the elevator at the end of the hall, not inclined at all to rush. "It's three, by the way," she said. Dash glanced at him, brushing some long hair behind her shoulder on the side he was walking. "You asked when we're going," she reminded him, bumping his shoulder lightly with her own as she looked ahead, an easy smile appearing again. "It's three." Dash stepped into the elevator, reaching instinctively for her floor, which was two down from this one. Her finger hovered over the number for a moment before she looked at him.

"Actually, I'm not really tired?" she said, frowning slightly. "I might go for a little walk, if you wanted to come?" She lowered her hand slightly, finger now hovering between the button for the ground floor and the one to hold the doors open, in case he wanted to step out now.

The air between him and Arden wasn't uncomfortable, but there was palpable anticipation when they were left alone without Bancroft as a buffer. The man was a lot of things, but most recently he served as a good refocus of attention. He seemed to breeze through a conversation without even a second thought, another thing Neville was envious of at present.

"Ah, he'll be alright," He assured with a nod. It wasn't the first time, nor would it be the last, that Bancroft fell asleep somewhere other than a bed.

Dash agreed to let him walk her to her room and Neville was relieved in some strange way that the sense of urgency— for what, he couldn't be sure— would be prolonged. They weren't leaving until the next day she said, and suddenly the night felt like an opportunity all over again. Neville grinned, glancing over at her as she nudged his shoulder before entering the lift.

"Oh!" Neville tried to hide the relief in his tone that came as she hovered over the ground-level button. "Are you sure?" Ever the fool, he second-guessed himself. There was another brief moment of panic that arose in his chest when he realized he might be capable of talking her out of it. "I'd like that," Neville scrambled, indicating for her to press the button more feverishly than before.

"We might run into some of your students..." He mused with a thoughtful smile, leaning against the back of the lift as it eventually descended. He did what he could, but found himself inevitably watching her out of the corner of his eye. The doors opened with a ding and he held out an arm to prop the doors open and let Arden lead the way.

Dash glanced at him, studying his face under the harsh, too-bright elevator lights as she tried to guess what he was thinking. “Only if you want to,” she said, holding up a hand, making sure he had an easy out if that was what he wanted. She didn’t think that was what he wanted, but being accommodating (sometimes a little too much so) had always come easy to the woman, even when she had a pretty good read on the social dynamics.

“Okay,” she said, her smile amused and easy as she pressed the button. Ground floor it was. The doors slid shut slowly, then there was a moment of silence before the lift actually started to move. It was torturously slow, she thought, but again, she wondered if she would have felt the same way a few weeks ago. That was how these kinds of things went, she supposed; one second it was business as usual, and then suddenly she could tell when he was looking at her, and wanted him to when he wasn’t.

She looked over her shoulder at him, caught his eye, then smiled, glancing ahead again. “Oh? Well, only if we’re going to the bar,” she answered, amused. Then, “I was thinking outside,” She glanced his way again, measuring his reaction, wondering if she hadn’t made that clear. “If you wanted to?”

She looked at him and immediately Neville felt like he'd been caught. He mirrored her grin despite the embarrassing warmth that spread over his face, down his neck— had it gotten hotter? "Ha," He chuckled with a shake of his head, remembered from her prompt that not every eighteen-year-old was the way that he had been or the way that he was. He was far less interested in the hotel bar than a stroll outside.

Most of the time, anyway. The Leaky Cauldron and his usual visits sprung to mind.

"What, you don't imagine any of them might fancy a midnight wander?" There was disbelief in his voice as though he already knew the answer. From what she mentioned of her students thus far, he thought not.

They stepped outside the lift and he cast a glance to where he knew the bar was located, instinctually walking between it and Dash as if to block her. The idea of a distraction in the form of a student spotting her, then, was less than ideal. Neville pulled his hands into his pockets as they approached the lobby. "Massive, isn't it?" He studied the high ceiling before inevitably looking over to her, a small smile pulling at the corner of his mouth, his question rhetorical.

Dash resisted the urge to fidget, to play with her hair or the sleeves of her knitted jumper. She followed his gaze down the hall to their right, at the end of which was the bar they were talking about. A part of her could see the appeal; having a drink with him now would definitely take the edge off of the nerves that had begun fluttering at the edges now that they were alone again.

But as they kept on walking, she thought that the tension wasn't actually that bad to be steeped in. "Well, you never know," she conceded with a slight nod. "This year's cohort seem to be pretty friendly? As in, I think they're all friends with one another? So if they're going for midnight walks it'll probably all be as a group." She laughed, shaking her head. "Which'll be great, you know, if they've been hitting the bar." Great for the university, great for her, specifically. "No, they're a good lot," she added, unable to finish the thought on a note that was even remotely antagonistic.

“It’s nice,” she answered, glancing up, then back at him before he looked at her again. Their eyes met and she looked forward once more, her half-smile mirroring his. Neither of them seemed to care much for the hotel, anyway. Was it going to be like this all night, she wondered? She could feel his eyes on her again, and wondered if she'd spend the next half hour or however long it was that they spent outside just checking to see if she had his attention, until they inevitably said goodnight and went back to their separate rooms.

Separate rooms? She was a little amused at her own internal phrasing.

"Ah, that's nice," she said, meaning it this time as she stepped outside. Her feet hurt a little; she’d just bought this new pair of boots, and was still breaking them in, but it was worth it for the fresh air. Or, well, perhaps not the freshest (they were in a city, after all), but fresh in a dynamic way, at least. She could smell the water, so it felt fresh to her, juxtaposed the stagnant air of the hotel.

She bounced a little as they moved away from the hotel lights and big glass doors, and out onto the well-maintained path outside.

Neville didn't necessarily need the excuse to prompt him to look over and study at Arden but her response had given him one, he happily took it. He'd been so distracted that he nearly ran right into the door that magically slid open as they approached. Spatial awareness the last thing on his mind.

There was a soft whoosh sound as the door closed behind them and at once they were enveloped in the sound of the outdoors— crickets singing their night song and wind and the threat of a storm whipped around Neville and pushed his hair back from the top of his forehead."Looks like it might rain..." He stated the obvious though there was no sense of urgency in his tone. More than anything he hoped it wouldn't be the next wrench in their night.

"Oh—" They had rounded the corner and no sooner came upon a couple pressed against the side of the building and into each other. Neville, for a moment, hesitated. His face flushed. They were only kissing and had clearly not noticed a presence, yet still, he felt embarrassed in some strange way.

"This way, maybe," Neville touched the side of her jumper without thought to direct them down the pathway opposite. It wasn't well lit and it certainly wasn't the main track around the grounds but it meant they wouldn't have to skirt around the couple any closer than they already had. "Were those your students?" He asked with a smile as they rounded the next bend slowly. He hadn't gotten a good look, not that he would have recognized them.

Looked like it might rain? She glanced up at the sky, reaching up with one hand to keep her hair out of her face as a stronger breeze tried to do the opposite. Of course, it was too dark to see anything, but Dash took a long, deep breath through her nose, and sure enough, she could identify the scent of rain on the wind. It was dry out here for now, but there was also a kind of energy in the air that only further confirmed Neville’s words. Maybe she should have brought her wand with her; all she had was her hotel key in her pocket.

Dash was too distracted letting the wind and the potential rain and the relief of being outside wash over her to have noticed the couple snogging against a wall. She blinked, following his gaze when he touched the side of her jumper. “Oh,” She said, copying him without realising it. Quickly, the woman fell into step beside her friend(?) as they moved down a different path. She bumped into him without really meaning to, but didn’t feel shy about the contact.

She smiled at him, then when their gazes lingered a little too long on each other, she laughed, looking up at a low-hanging branch as they passed underneath it. “I don’t think so,” she said. “I didn’t get a good look, though.” Dash shook her head, mostly at herself, her gaze dropping to the path ahead. It wasn’t very well-lit here. “Who hooks up at a herbology convention?” she asked. Of course, the guests could have been staying here for some other reason, but it seemed likely that they were plant people. Everyone here seemed like a plant person.

“No offense, I mean,” she added, bumping his arm lightly with her shoulder as they walked. “I’m sure plants are very sexy for you people.” She gave him a teasing look, eyebrows raised, before glancing ahead again with a smile.

Arden bumped against him with her shoulder and Neville found that he was leaning back in return. So much that he nearly tripped over himself. He covered it well, he thought, following her gaze to the branch overhead and dipping to correct his misstep. He was nowhere near the height of the limbs (even from where he stood) but it seemed to do the trick. At least, he hoped it had. If the smile he noticed when he glanced furtively over his shoulder was any indication— possibly.

His face immediately flushed, yet Neville felt strangely emboldened by the anonymity of the night. It was as if the real world, back in England, didn't exist in the same universe.

Plants? Sexy? Under any other circumstance, Neville would have changed the subject altogether, unsure of how to keep up with the banter. Instead, he was feeling more confident. "You don't think so?" He sucked at the inside of his cheek before venturing a look more directly at her. "A herbology conference, the ultimate," He said in jest, breaking into a grin. "To each their own, right..." He clicked his tongue before glancing to the sky in contemplative thought.

What was her own, he wondered uncharacteristically self-indulgent. 

You don’t think so?

Dash laughed at that. He looked at her so she looked at him, too, her small, teasing smile threatening to grow into a grin more and more the longer they held eye contact. He grinned first, and hers appeared a moment later. She half wanted to roll her eyes at herself; it had been a long time since she’d felt like this. A long while since she’d felt like a teenager around a boy she liked, knowing with near-certainty that he at least liked being around her, too.

It wasn't life-and-death the way it'd been in highschool, though, and she appreciated it. There wasn't anything wrong with having a bit of a crush on a new friend. “So that’s your thing, then,” Dash continued teasing, looking ahead. Her cheeks were a little warmer, but she felt pretty comfortable here. Here physically, with him outside in the garden, and here, flirting with him rather unabashedly in the dark. "Leaf shapes and stem lengths and uh... Root systems..." Neville was comfortable to be around, she thought. That was nice.

“Oh," she said suddenly, slowing. "You were right,” She held a bare hand out, palm facing upward. She slowed to a stop, glancing up at the sky. She couldn’t see anything going on, but she blinked when a tiny raindrop fell right in her eye. “It’s just a little,” she said doubtfully, not really wanting to start heading back yet.

Laughter seemed to bounce off the damp grounds of the hotel and echo from the threat of the rain. Neville's forest-colored eyes snapped down from where they had turned to the sky to find the source of the sound. A genuine smile lazily, albeit belatedly, pulled at his mouth. Had his face felt so hot before, he wondered, but had a hard time recalling anything other than the three seconds immediately prior.

"That is my thing then," He mirrored, managing to pull together a sentence despite the fact that his throat had gone dry. There really was no fairness in the fact that Adren could make the words leaf shapes and root systems sound even vaguely sensual.

Repeating exactly what she'd said and only that felt like the only way to deal with whatever had lit up in his chest.

Neville watched as she held her upturned palm to the sky. It was like was summoning something. He lingered briefly on her upturned jaw before following suit. Immediately, and despite no proof of rain, he squinted to brace himself for the impact. He was halfway to shield them (inevitably fruitlessly) when two heavy drops smacked against his skin in quick succession— one on the inside of his neck and the other the hollow of his cheek.

The sound of a sheet of rain came immediately to wash the world around them.

"We should go?" Was it a question? Neville wasn't entirely sure. He shuffled under the branch of the tree nearest off the path that provided a bit of refuge. "I've left my wand," Neville had to raise his voice to carry over the sound of nature, his hands still patting his pockets desperately.

Dash gasped at the sudden shift in weather as the first fat raindrops started hitting. Sudden only because she’d been distracted, that was; the heavens had clearly been on the verge of opening up from the moment they’d stepped outside. “Here, this one, this one,” she said, wrapping her fingers around his wrist and tugging gently towards a different tree with a little more cover. Of course, there wasn’t much to be done about the rain; all she had was her hotel key, and if he didn’t have his wand either…

She pulled him under the branches, a couple of low-hanging wet leaves brushing the top of his head rather comically. She positioned herself with her back against the thick trunk of the tree. Had the couple kissing against the hotel wall made it inside in time to avoid getting drenched, she wondered? Had they even noticed the torrential rain? Maybe they’d just kept kissing. Dash let go of his wrist, grinning and a little out of breath as she met his eye. She shivered, then moved in close, with her side against his torso. She was cold, but it was clear, to her at least, that it was just an excuse to get close to him. She raised one hand to drag a few strands of wet hair back from her cheek.

“Why, scared of a bit of rain?” she teased, clearly shivering as she raised her voice to speak over the sound. It had already been quite dark, but she could barely see out past the relative safety of their small haven. Only this tiny slice of the world felt like it mattered very much at this moment. She tilted her chin up slightly, caught his gaze again. “You’ll have to get used to being wet if you’re gonna come out on the boat one day,” she added.

Neville followed blindly to the tree that Arden led to. He laughed for no apparent reason beyond the fact that hers was so god damn infectious. Most things about her had that effect, he was learning. Aside from his hand in hers, he couldn't make out much beyond a few inches, though they soon made it to something of a sanctuary— a literal calm amongst the storm. The rain made its way still through the veinlike branches thick with greenery, belatedly, and in thicker, slow drops compared to the wall of a downpour.

It almost looked like a different world around them. It was like nothing else really existed outside of the small circle they had made.

And he was supposed to be the plant one, he thought with a stupid grin still plastered on his face ever after his hand fell numbly to his side.

"Well, no," Neville hadn't intended on stammering but there was, doing just that. Had she gotten closer? He stiffened slightly. He was the first person to admit his fears, and rain just so happened to not be one of them. Not even storms, come to think of it "I actually enjoy it," He said earnestly as he pushed the wet hair from his forehead, entirely distracted by the warmth that her body held even just as it brushed against him.

"Did I agree to that?" He smiled reminiscently as if the conversation had happened a few lifetimes prior and not earlier in the evening. "I don't think I agreed to that," His laugh simmered as he caught her eye. There was a strand of hair that still stuck to Dash's cheek and Neville instinctively reached out a hand to move it before pausing, his thumb a light tough to her cheekbone. "Sorry, it's just a—" He gestured to his own face to show her where it laid.

“Good,” Dash replied, still teasing, still with that same easy smile. So they didn’t have to go back just yet, then. She didn’t want that, either. Dash was cold, though; the knit of her jumper was quite wide, and she could feel the breeze on her skin through it. Her sleeves and shoulders and back were all a little damp. So soon, maybe. But not yet.

“Me too,” she responded simply, another laugh escaping her lips for seemingly no reason at all. Dash was such an outdoors person, really. She wasn’t sure she could even start to explain the way that connecting with nature replenished her soul; it was such a huge and nourishing part of her life. Felt spiritual, almost. Maybe Neville would get it though, she thought, looking at him as he pushed wet hair back from his forehead. Maybe one day she’d try to explain.

She considered being mock offended, but she already felt a little like a teenager, and she’d already leaned so far into the teasing tonight. “Do you want to?” she asked instead, her small smile kind and open instead of demanding, her voice raised over the sound of rain. She wanted him to come out, on the boat, with her. She wanted to take him out. More than that, though, she wanted him to want to.

His laugh faded out, and she could feel it too; the tension, the anticipation. It made her want to be still, made her want to lean forward, made her want to pull back and make sure she was reading everything right before she made a fool of herself, or something. That last one was just insecurity though; in this moment, she felt like she knew exactly what he was feeling. Dash stilled when he touched her face. She was still smiling, but she raised her eyebrows a fraction, her own eyes fixed on his as his attention flicked from where he’d touched her to meet her gaze. It was dark, but she was standing close enough to see his face, his hesitancy. He drew his hand back, but not too far. A fat, wet raindrop landed on the top of her head just then. She didn’t notice it at all.

Her heartbeat quickened. Instead of speaking — she’d never really been that much of a talker, anyway — she reached up and took his hand lightly, her thumb against his palm and her other fingers resting lightly against the back of his hand. She guided him back to her, placed his hand on her cheek like she was asking him to do whatever he'd been meaning to (brush some hair off her face? Something?), when really she was just asking him to touch her.

"I do," Neville replied immediately and despite the fact that he hadn't put any real thought behind the answer beyond that he might be able to spend time with her again. At any capacity, it was appealing. Arden could have said they were doing anything and he would have agreed just as dreamily.

"I mean—" There was a familiar nagging voice that didn't belong to him in the back of his mind that gave him pause. It was the same that habitually created problems for Neville in the form of self-doubt. "—if it isn't raining..." He grinned, rubbing a drop from the side of his jaw with the inside of his thumb. It didn't do much. All of him was soaked to his bones from even the few moments that they had spent in the open. He felt strangely exposed.

Maybe it was because he didn't have his wand— the inanimate extension of his very being.

Or, maybe it was the way that she was looking at him— that felt just as chasmic.

Neville's breath caught in his chest. The lack of oxygen, he decided, had made it particularly hard to think clearly (though, he was prone to self-diagnosing). Dash pulled his hand back to where he'd withdrawn it and for a moment it felt like his skin was on fire.

It wasn't warm outside, nor did the rain do any favors, but Neville was suddenly aware of the moisture in the air. "Sorry," He said without reason.

"It's just, you missed..." His voice lingered in the space between them as he tentatively ran the back of his fingers over her skin, then the inside of his thumb on her cheek. He eventually moved the thick wet strands of forgone hair from where they'd gathered at her temple. "...a bit of hair," He explained distractedly, not taking his hand back to himself as immediately as intended.