[edinburgh] long story short. [circenn]

This was the first time Maisie had ever called in "sick".

It was a weird situation and she'd flip-flopped between trying to catch the owl she'd sent to the Ministry and forcing herself to calm down. The initial guilt she'd felt lingered like a bad cold but over the two days she'd been off work, it was lessened to the point where she'd barely felt anything. Besides, what was the point in having sick days if she wasn't going to take them?

Maisie had deep cleaned her apartment, watered her plans, let the radio play all day in the background, bought herself an overpriced coffee and drank it on the steps of the museum and people watched for ages. It was nice, having time to herself. She was usually so busy and so stressed, having time to do anything else but work seemed impossible.

Dressed in a soft pale pink jumper and jeans with her long dark hair in a ponytail, Maisie looked infinitely more relaxed than usual. With the kettle boiled and the spout halfway to the lip of her mug, a knock at the door caught her attention and she frowned. It must be the Muggle postman but with a glance at the clock, it seemed too late for him to be calling. Maybe it was Johnny, just stopping by to see her like he sometimes did.

"Coming!" Maisie called as she jogged across the hallway to yank open her front door, the smile on her face dropping instantly. There was Circenn standing there, looking worried and holding a carton of soup. "Er," she began, her cheeks flushing at the realisation that she'd just been caught bunking off work and by the reason she'd called in sick in the first place. Belatedly, she gave a cough in a crap attempt to portray her apparent illness. There was a beat of silence before she blinked. "Hi?"


@Circenn Kekoa Teague

Maisie had been on his mind the last few days and he knew exactly why. They had accidentally kissed, a brush of the lips, barely a kiss really, but still a kiss when they had been working on the charity event late one night in her office. He hadn't told Roxy about it because after he had left the Ministry, watching as Maisie nearly ran off, he couldn't really explain the confusion he felt. Or the guilt. Had she looked terrified in that moment after what had happened? And yet here he was still thinking about the moment before everything had turned to shite.

So that's why he had stopped by the Ministry the next day with a question (an excuse) about the event, but she hadn't been there. Not here, someone had told him. Alright, probably busy scouting the venue or meeting with vendors. The next day after that he had stopped in before practice, dropping by her office and yet it was empty again. Haven't seen her, her coworker told him before launching into a tirade about the last game as if Circenn had asked for his coaching perspective. He extracted himself as quick as he could. The next day, he dropped in early after his workout, determined to catch her before she was off on her tasks for the day, but again nothing. She's been out sick for a few days, someone had told him.

Three days? Circenn's brows flew up. Three days she had been home sick and he was only now just finding out. Plus three days seemed long, he immediately worried if it was something serious.

Stopping by a local soup shop, kissing the elderly shopowner on the cheek as he exited through the back like usual, he apparated to her address, hating the feeling, but needing the efficiency of it. And that was when she came to the door, looking right as rain in a pale pink jumper, no fevered gaze or puffy eyes, no sniffles or red nose. His brows knitted together and he gave her a confused sort of look.

"Hi," he said hesitantly, now feeling a bit dumb holding soup that she didn't seem to need. "Your office said you were sick? Are you feeling better then?"

Maisie didn't know what to do. She'd been caught in her lie and she panicked. It was pathetic, really. She couldn't avoid Circenn forever. The fact that she'd thought that she could just made her seem even more silly. She hadn't told Johnny about the accidental kiss. Maisie had told herself that was because it was just a mishap and they'd both apologised and left it at that. But Johnny was horribly jealous and quite frankly, she didn't like him when he was angry.

"You brought me soup," she said simply, her eyes large and round as the realisation sank in. No one had ever brought her soup when she was ill. Maisie parted her lips to speak but found herself clamming up. That was singlehandedly the most thoughtful thing anyone had ever done for her and Circenn didn't even know her. Well, now he knew her as a liar and a coward, so that was great.

But was she feeling better? No, she answered him mentally. She felt infinitely worse.  She was embarrassed and uncomfortable and upset and ashamed. Though, to be fair, she was now developing a headache and she felt all weird and warm. "Yes," she finally answered him with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "It must have been a forty eight hour bug going around," she said breezily, despite there being no such thing.

She hesitated at the door frame. She should really invite him in but it seemed inappropriate. Maisie had seen the look of confusion on his face and it settled around her shoulders like a wet blanket. It broke her heart into a thousand tiny pieces as she realised that she'd disappointed him. There was a lump in her throat. He was such a nice guy. He needed to stop hanging around with her. She'd only drag him down to her level. As she stood in her hallway, tears pricked at the corners of her eyes and she blinked them back furiously.

"I'll be back at work Monday," she assured him, not that he'd care. Maisie also wouldn't be surprised if she never saw him again and it was exactly what she deserved. "I --" she began before she frowned as she watched him. "You really didn't have to do this," she admitted lamely as she motioned to the kind gesture of soup and the fact that he'd gone out of his way to check on her. Maisie Miller was officially the worst person in the world.

At her mention of the soup, he glanced down. "Yeah, I did. Here you are," he said handing it over carefully by the handles, making sure she had it before he let go. "It's from a great shop, you'll like it," he promised as he met her gaze. And while he hadn't known her for very long, she seemed uncomfortable again. He had hoped that would fade away after the accidental kiss, but there was an edge to it. There was a note in her voice that made him think she wasn't telling the whole truth. It made him pause, trying to sort through his thoughts. He hated being lied to and that gut reaction was swift and fierce, but it was countered with the rationality that Maisie had no reason to lie to him. Not about being sick and skipping work. What did he care other than being concerned and wanting her to feel better, thus the soup.

It made him feel a bit silly now.

They were both hesitating in their spots and it became clear that Circenn should go. He felt himself drawing away as she explained herself. He nodded, but he glanced at her shoulder instead of her eyes. He didn't want to see that look that felt a lot like lying again. Not from her. "Great, glad to hear it," he gave her with a tight smile and a nod. "It was nothing, don't even worry about it," he added before stepping back.

He brought me soup. That was all Maisie could think about as he reached out to take it from him. It was a small gesture but it meant the world and she swallowed a lump in her throat back down and she nodded. She couldn't eat the soup. It smelled like chicken noodle but it  would inevitably taste like guilt. Maisie smiled quickly. She was sure she'd love it. It was probably homemade and organic because he probably shopped at family run businesses. Fuck.

But Circenn wasn't looking at her and Maisie began to sweat. She stood frozen in her doorway as he moved to leave, her eyes wide. Panic washed over her like a cold shower and something was brewing, swirling in her gut and before she could stop it ---

"Don't go."

The words were out before she could control them. Swiftly, her pretty face flushed a deep red, all the way up to the roots of her hair as her eyes widened in alarm. "Shit," Maisie swore, her skin feeling cool and clammy. "I mean sugar," she corrected herself, not usually one to swear. "Oh fuck," came the next one and she forced herself to clamp a hand over her mouth. She really wanted to explode into a million tiny pieces right there in her hallway.

It wasn't nothing. This was definitely something. Deeply embarrassed by her actions and suffering from a second wave of added shame, her mind went blank. Circenn was so casual but she would, indeed, worry about it. "Okay," she blabbered as she took a step back inside her flat, effectively withdrawing herself from the situation.

"Thanks for the --" she forgot the word so she simply held up the soup and smiled weakly. "I'll see you," she told Circenn as she closed her front door and turned, her back resting against it as she closed her eyes and let out a groan of embarrassment, wondering what on Earth was going on. If she wasn't sick then, she certainly was now.

He saw her expression change and his brows flickered lower. Her request for him not to go made him feel guilty. Maybe he had been wrong about what he thought. "Is everything ok, Maisie?" he asked hesitantly before she started stammering and correcting herself. He shook his head a few times and wanted to say something to ease her seemingly anxiety, but he wasn't sure what to say other than "it's fine, I've heard worse." Much worse on the pitch, in fact.

Circenn nodded again at her thanks and held up a hand, he didn't need her thanks, it really was nothing. "Sure. Wednesday right?" he asked, thinking of their next meeting for the event planning. He took another step back down the steps and lifted a hand goodbye. "Feel better," he said automatically, still wondering what was really going on and if he should have given her the benefit of the doubt. He had turned as she closed the door, his boots scraping against the stone steps and he glanced over his shoulder at her, a furrow in his brow, before he went back the way he came and apparated a block away, a picture of her still in his mind's eye.

/end