“If you’re hungry, I’d be pleased to treat you to some lunch as well.” Harmon said with practiced nonchalance as he led the way around to the side gate.
“Oooh, yes, please. I’ve always been curious about Zircyn food.” Lydia said, looking quite pleased at his suggestion. “Plus, your brothers will probably be home soon. I’m not sure I can handle three more of you right now.”
A small smile played across Harmon’s lips at this. He’d loved his brothers, but if he was being honest, he also wasn’t sure he could handle the three of them right now. Or ever, really. They were one six, seven and eight years his junior, having been born just one year apart from each other, and loved running their parents ragged at every opportunity. It had been a most celebrated day in the Desrouleaux household when one after the other each of the young boys began school, though his mother had moaned for some time about how quiet the house was without them. It was a complaint that made Echo threaten to put another baby in her, which of course shut her right up. Thank the Goddess it worked too, because another baby would most definitely dislodged Harmon from his comfortable home.
Not that moving out hadn’t crossed his mind already. He’d completed his schooling early, prodigy that he was. If the Academie had allowed it, he would have entered the dormitories at sixteen when he first began attending - but they didn’t feel it would be wise to let a young man who was not of age into a co-ed dormitory.
That was two years ago, and though he was of age now he hadn’t really felt pressed to find his own accommodation. His parents home was spacious enough, conveniently located, and already staffed with trustworthy maids and cooks who catered quite well to his particular tastes. That Lydia was now staying with them, at least for the present time, was only adding to the appeal.
“If you stay with us you’ll need to get used to them eventually. How long do you think you’ll be staying, anyway?” Harmon inquired as he turned toward the double wide carriage house where he’d parked The Beast earlier. Realizing his words might be misconstrued, he quickly added, “Not that we aren’t pleased to host you for as long as you like. I was just wondering in case you’d like someone to show you around. The city is rather expansive.”
“I’ll be honest, I would love to have a personal tour guide, but I have no idea how long I’m staying. I don’t want to impose on your family for too long If I do end up staying long term, I’ll have to find a place of my own, or maybe move into the dorms.” Lydia said with a soft sigh. “My parents already paid my matriculation fees for Veritasia University in the fall, but I think...I think I want to try and enroll at Academie Esoterique instead. I just hope they can get their money back.”
“If your Beast is any indication of your talent for artificing, I am sure you will be accepted.”
A wobbly little smile worked its way onto Lydia’s lips at the reassuring tone of Harmon’s deep, tranquil voice. When she walked out of her borrowed bedroom the second time, she had not been expecting to find him leaning against the wall waiting for her. Whatever had possessed him to stay she couldn’t be sure, but part of her - the small part that really did crave acceptance - was glad for his company.
“So,uhm...is that where you’re going to study now that you’re of age?” Lydia inquired, wanting to turn the conversation away from herself.
“Ah, well, I have been studying at the Academie for two years already.” Harmon said, looking rather embarrassed at the admission.
She had no idea why; if he got admitted at sixteen then he had to be super smart. Why be embarrassed about that? Lydia wished she had something like that to be embarrassed about. She’d never been anything but average in school, even when it came to adventuring preparatory classes, despite having the advantage of her parents, their guild,and her grandmother’s teaching. Sure, Dia worked hard, but she was not a precocious talent.
Harmon’s eyes were cast downward as he fidgeted a little with the lock to the carriage house door, which eventually slid open to reveal a fine horseless carriage, The Beast, and on the far end of the expansive garage, an oblong platform that had to be the hovercraft. It sat on a set of crab-like little legs and had no discernible navigational wheel. It was kind of ugly, with its raw wood, metal and crystal components plainly visible - but also kind of cute in an intentionally industrial, minimalist way. It's only nod to design was the back of the platform - or at least, she thought it must be the back - which split into a fin-like tapered ends that curved elegantly up.
Dia’s nose crinkled a little, but she decided against commenting on the hovercraft’s unfortunate lack of aesthetics. After all, function was what mattered most for a piece of artificing. The form could always be zhuzhed up later. She even had a few ideas for said zhuzhing, but she wanted to wait and see how the hovercraft performed before deciding whether or not to make any suggestions. She was also aware of how touchy people could be about their creations, and didn’t want to offend Harmon any further than she already had. It was a miracle he hadn’t run for the hills after that last outburst. Plus, Lydia herself hated when people tampered with her work, even if their suggestions turned out to be right in the end. She had no idea how Harmon would take it if she started poking at his work after barely knowing him for five minutes.
“All of the controls are set into the base of the platform.” Harmon explained when he saw Lydia lean down to examine the fin, then bend a little further to get a peak at the underside of the hovercraft. “So instead of controlling the movement with your hands, you do so with your feet.”
“That’s clever, but I bet there’s a learning curve...have you ever ridden it with another person?” Lydia asked, feeling slightly concerned about getting on the hovercraft with him.
“Sometimes I take my brothers out on it. You’re probably thinking about how easy the Beast’s back tire can slide out when the balance gets thrown off by a passenger. Unlike a motorcycle, hovercrafts have multiple stabilizers throughout their undercarriage. It’s quite steady, I assure you.” Harmon said, stepping onto the platform. He then turned and offered his hand out to Lydia, helping her up.
Harmon had the fine, dextrous fingers one would expect from a drow, but his hand was surprisingly strong. In fact, it was rather rough. He had calluses not only on the fingertips but across the palm, and short clipped nails - the hands of a workman. She’d been expecting him to have soft and refined hands, maybe even manicured nails, so it surprised her how masculine his hand felt as he firmly grasped her far more dainty digits. His hand was also quite warm as well, and she felt a zing run up her arm at the all too brief contact.
“Thanks.” Dia said softly, looking up at him from under her long black lashes. “You’re...you’re a lot nicer than I thought. Taking me to get clothes, something to eat...helping me delay the inevitable shitstorm.”
“Ah, don’t say that. I know I can be...mmm...awkward. I really made an ass of myself when I answered the door earlier.” Harmon said, rubbing at the back of his neck. It was a nervous habit, one that Dia was finding increasingly endearing. “But, I think we might have more in common than not...so this is a way of starting over, perhaps on the right foot this time.”
“As long as that foot is on the gas pedal and we get to see this hovercraft get its vroom on, then I don’t see why not. Friends?” Lydia said, offering him her fist to bump.
Harmon perked up at this, seeming quite relieved. He rapped his knuckles against hers, and nodded. “Friends.”