forthsofar | so sing while you have time, let the sun shine down from above

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caleb

so sing while you have time, let the sun shine down from above

Neil's been out of the apartment a little more often recently, and Caleb's been even worse than usual at responding when she texts him, and Rosie's clever enough to put both of those facts together into one delightful conclusion. Maybe not the most delightful, not yet, but at least they're both spending time together. She's tried her best not to pry ever since her talk with Neil the other week--she had promised, after all--but it's not exactly prying to notice something. Or be terribly happy about it.

Given that her talk with Neil had gone so well, Rosie's been looking for an opportunity to do the same with Caleb, to find out if things on his side are similar enough that something might come of it after all. The end of the year is busy enough that it's hard, all the prep for finals and agonizing over projects, but at last there comes a day when it seems like things might be calm enough.

When the bell rings at the end of French class, Rosie weaves her way through the rows of desks to where Caleb's sitting, still packing up his bag. "Ready for lunch?"

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Caleb eyes her, a little suspiciously, but there's a small smile on his face.

"Uh, yes, always," he points out. "But don't you normally have standing lunch dates?" He finishes packing up his things, then zips the bag closed. In a smooth motion, he stands and slings it over his shoulder.

The suspicious narrowing of his eyes only makes her laugh. "Goodness, I was just trying to make sure we had time together before you're gone for good," she retorts, rolling her eyes at the easy, slightly show-offy way he shoulders his backpack. "Off to Barton and forgetting all about the little people still trapped here at Petros."

Rosie looks up at him. "Besides, do you really want to know what Sabrina and Charlie are actually doing during lunch?"

That earns her a wince, but he laughs. "Good point," he says. "And it's not like you're never gonna see me," he points out. "I'm not doing campus housing, and I'll still visit all the time."

He steps around his desk and nudges her shoulder with his elbow. He can tell she has questions. Her curiosity tickles down his arms, popping and dancing like the gentlest thunderstorm.

"It'd be a bit stupid if you did," she says. "Since you only just moved. And I know you'll visit."

The question of who he'd be visiting when he next comes by Candlewood, of course, is up for some kind of debate, and Rosie has the sense they both know it. He nudges her, and she smiles, trying for something a little enigmatic. If he can feel the questions she already has in mind, and she's aware he absolutely can, he can just keep waiting.

"Come on, then."

He watches her as they walk, eyes still narrow. "Okay, what," he asks, laughing. "You're, like, brimming with fucking questions."

It's like he can't stand it, cutting looks at her as they walk that seem to turn ever more suspicious. In a way, it's almost more entertaining than asking him anything at all. She's not built to be quite that cruel, though, and once they've gotten their lunch and found a place to sit--somewhere outside and far from the bustle of the cafeteria, because the weather is gorgeous and it'll be easier for Caleb to focus--Rosie's happy to put a kind of end to his misery.

"I'm just wondering how setting up your new flat's been going," she says, light and innocent as she twists off the cap on the lemonade she'd bought. "It looked nice, in the pictures I saw. You know, the ones you sent Neil."

It's pointed, plucking at his arms even as something slippery and excited bounces in his belly. He glances up at her as he unwraps his sandwich. She's amused by his suspicion, but it's a playful, fond thing. She likes watching him try to figure things out, and she never makes him wait too long if he has trouble. But this is different. Caleb can't tell if she's annoyed that he hadn't texted her any pictures, or if she's just giving him shit about it.

"Oh," he says. That's not the direction he'd expected this to go. "I'm still kinda working on it," he admits. "I want to get, like, a couple rugs, too."

"That could be good," she says. There's a moment when he looks almost surprised, maybe even a little relieved; it only satisfies her sense that she's doing something wondrously sneaky. "Cozy, for when you want to have people over or something."

She pops the lid off her salad and opens the dressing packet, squeezing it over the leaves as she considers her next step forward. It can't be too much, not yet, and she's still aware of her promise not to pry. Despite the temptation, which is only growing stronger the more time she's aware of Neil and Caleb spending together.

"You could help me pick 'em out," he offers after he's swallowed his first bite. She's not jealous that he'd asked for Neil's help, but there's still something poking at him... "I mean, if you want."

"I could," she says, drawing the last word out a little as though giving the idea some real thought. "And you know I always like spending time with you."

She waits only a few more minutes before her earlier resolve crumbles, just a little. "Speaking of spending time, though," she says, a pleased little smile on her face as she spears one of the olives in her salad with her fork, "how has it been? Hanging out with Neil?"

The seeming change in topic makes Caleb blink a little, and suddenly, things start settling into place. The itchy, curious feeling calms just a bit, and the excitement flares before settling. This is what she's wanted to ask about the whole time, he realizes. And it makes sense. Neil is her roommate, one of her closest friends, so obviously she wants to make sure they're getting along.

Caleb nods, swallowing another bite of his sandwich.

"He's pretty cool," he says. "And funny, right? Like, in the good way!" he rushes to add. "I didn't realize, y'know?"

Rosie can almost see the way he relaxes, reassured by the way whatever he'd been feeling from her now fits into a familiar enough shape. It's not something she notices often, but when she does it always feels a little bit like magic--not the darker kind Sabrina and Nick grew up knowing, but something all Caleb's own.

"He's really funny," she agrees, her pleased smile broadening into a grin. "It's one of the things I think more people should know. He's funny, and a lot cleverer than me, and handsome, and really surprisingly good at the piano...lots of things." She laughs, taking a sip of her lemonade. "Being his flatmate, I suppose I'm biased, but it's all still true."

"Oh, come on, nobody's cleverer than you," Caleb says with a grin. He laughs a little. "I didn't know the piano thing. Does he ever play, or is it one of those things that, like, his parents had him learn as a kid?" Some parents do that, he's pretty sure. His had always encouraged him to seek things he enjoyed, and they cultivated that, but they never forced him or Alice to take lessons just for the sake of having them.

"Plenty of people are cleverer than I am, but if you haven't met them all yet, maybe it's best it stays that way. So I don't lose your good opinion of me." It's all a tease, and Rosie grins, leaning back a little in her seat and tilting her face up to the sun.

"You know, I'm not sure," she admits when Caleb asks. "He played a bit when we were at Guy and Anthony's Christmas party, not this last Christmas but the one before, so he must've learned sometime. We just...don't really talk about our parents much, either of us."

There's a reason for that, of course, and one that runs deeper and to far darker places for Neil than it does for her, but Rosie's not about to say anything about that if she can help it.

Caleb knows a little about Rosie's parents, so he doesn't push, because it makes sense that, coming from a time near Rosie's, Neil's parents were probably similar. Then his brain shifts gears and catches on something else she'd said.

"Oh, shit. He knew Mr. Burgess." He hadn't thought about it before, but it it makes sense. Rosie'd been so sad when she'd found out he was gone, and she'd been sad for herself and for someone else, too. That must have been Neil.

"He did," she confirms, her expression slipping into something a little quieter as she nods. The sadness of his disappearance is still there, but the months between then and now have softened it somewhat. "And the same day Guy disappeared, so did his...the man he'd been seeing for a bit. Harry."

She looks down, picking through her salad a little with her fork. "It wasn't a very good day for him at all."

"Yeah," he murmurs. "Fuck." He sighs and looks down. There's a quiet sadness between them for a long moment. It's not as heavy as it used to be, not as drowning, but it's still there, and Caleb lets it wash through him. Then he nods and sighs.

"Anyway. That's cool, that he plays the piano. Adam does, too."

Caleb doesn't probe into it, just lets the feelings come and go, and Rosie's grateful to him for that. More so, when he steers the conversation back to slightly safer--and pleasanter--topics.

"Really?" she says, trying to make it sound only blandly curious. "That's interesting. That he and Adam have things in common, I mean."

"They've got a lot in common!" Caleb explains. "Like the whole Shakespeare thing? They could totally talk circles around each other. Fuck, that'd be so cool to watch." He grins, perking back up now that they're talking about something familiar and comfortable.

"I suppose it would be," she says, watching as Caleb just seems to get brighter, happier and more animated. It doesn't seem to be because they've brought up Adam, though Rosie's careful not to assume too much on that front.

"But, you know, there's nothing that says you can't talk about Shakespeare or anything else with Neil. Since you're already getting to know each other a bit better and everything."

"Okay," Caleb says. He sets his sandwich down and looks at her levelly. "What are you doing?" The innocence on her face is accompanied by a playful sort of panic, and Caleb points at her, semi-sternly. "I know how friendships work, and you've been this weird mix of curious-hopeful-excited since you asked me to come to lunch with you." Which he's already acknowledged as strange, in itself. "What's going on?"

"Eating a salad," Rosie says when he asks, pointed and playful, because if he's going to ask a ridiculous question, he deserves a ridiculous answer. The slight jolt of nerves she gets when he points at her doesn't keep her from grinning, and when Caleb keeps talking, assessing her mood as accurately as he ever does, she rolls her eyes. "Oh, fine."

Setting down her fork, she leans her elbows on the table, resting her chin on her interlaced fingers. "You can't say a word of this to Neil, because I promised, but...I just want to know if you only want to be friends with him, or if it's something else."

Caleb stares at her for a moment, like he hadn't actually expected that. Then he breathes out a scoff on a heavy breath, and shakes his head. He looks ready to argue, or say something dismissive. There's a faint blush high on his cheeks and he clears his throat.

"He's, we're— we're friends," he says. "He just wants to be friends." That's a lie, and he knows it as soon as he's said it, so he corrects himself. "Well, no, he doesn't just want to be friends, but he's telling himself that. A-and I have Adam. I mean, that's why me and Clint broke up, is because I'm all hung up on Adam, still." Which he is, but he's also starting to get hung up on Neil, too.

"Alright." That blush seems to reveal more than his words do, but Rosie doesn't embarrass him further by pointing it out. She takes a moment, watching him, making sure she's thought through what she plans to say next. Both Caleb and Neil mean a lot to her; they wouldn't be her friends if they didn't, and to see them happy--however that happens--is all she really wants.

But it's Neil who means just a little bit more.

"Just make sure you're kind to him. If you just want to be his friend, and I know you can tell what he's feeling, and you've told me what it seems like he feels when he's around you, even if he tries to ignore it...you have to be kind to him."

She goes serious, the playful excitement fading into something weighty, and he pays close attention to what she says. There's a part of him that wants to be offended. Why would he be anything other than kind? Why would Rosie think, for one second, that he ever could be? But he knows she's just looking out for her friend. He'd say the same thing to anyone that Rosie was interested in — hell, he has done it for Alex. So he gets it, and he nods.

"Yeah, of course," he says.

Caleb just accepts it, no defensiveness or questioning, just an offhanded agreement that annoys her more than it reassures. It doesn't feel quite fair to react that way to something so small, but for a moment Rosie wonders if he's really understood how deeply she means what she's said. It might be that he can't; he doesn't know Neil as well as she does, not yet, and even with his ability Rosie doubts Caleb could know the extent of all the things Rosie's come to learn about what Neil's lost. Here, and back home.

"Then tell me you promise," she says. "Don't just say yeah, of course like it's nothing."

"Why are you annoyed?" he asks, and this time, the defensiveness comes out a bit. "Rosie, why would I ever not be kind to him? Of course I promise."

"You weren't always when it came to Clint, were you?" she says without thinking, caught up in the pull of her own sudden irritation and the injured defensiveness she can now hear in his voice, which feels like too little and far too late. It registers a moment later, and her eyes go wide. "Sorry, I didn't...I shouldn't have said that. I didn't mean to."

Rosie sighs, looking away from him and down at the weathered carvings on the table they're sitting at. "Neil was upset for so long after Harry and Guy disappeared," she says, more quietly. "And he's been lonely, no matter what he says to the contrary, and I don't think it's helped that I've been spending so much time with Nick and everyone else." She smiles, small and faint. "No one's been a very good friend to him, me included, and...he deserves one. I just want you to understand that."

Caleb flinches when she says that. It's not untrue, but it's not fucking fair, either. There's so much about himself that he couldn't share with Clint. There's so much about Clint that didn't fit in Caleb's body. And there's only so much that Rosie knows about any of it, so of course seeing things from her perspective would look that way.

But it's still not fucking fair.

"I know I can be pretty dumb sometimes, but I'm not a fucking idiot, Rosie, and I'm not an asshole." And it hurts that she thinks that about him, even for a heartbeat's time.

"Oh, for god's sake, Caleb, I know you're not an asshole." She glares at him, but she can see the flash of hurt in his eyes, and that only makes her sigh again. "Sometimes you can be clueless, but I know it's not...you don't do it deliberately. I really do know that, alright?"

What it is, really, is the fact she knows that the unintentional things can hurt the most. It's happened to her, it's happened to Neil, and likely even to Caleb. Maybe it'll always happen, no matter how often she tries to prevent it.

He scoffs out a weak laugh, looking down at his sandwich. He shouldn't laugh, not now of all times, but he's never heard her swear before, and it sounds unusual in her voice. He rubs his face.

"Okay, well," he says, a little helplessly. "So, I'm not gonna hurt him."

"Everyone thinks I don't swear because it's not ladylike," she says, catching that weak laugh for what she thinks it is, "but it's actually because it sounds completely ridiculous." As far as olive branches go, it's a flimsy one, but she offers it with a slightly stronger smile once her eyes meet his again.

"Good," she says. "That's all I'm asking."

Caleb nods, and he lets the moment slide through him again, until he no longer feels defensive. He picks up his sandwich and takes a few bites, debating his next move. When he swallows, he says, "He goes to the gym a lot. Does he play any sports?" He steadfastly doesn't mention the low buzz of arousal that Neil gets sometimes when they're at the gym together.

"Not here," she says, relaxing slightly now it seemed their sudden unpleasant moods have passed by once more. "I think he used to row back home, when he was at that school of his, but there's not really a place for that in Darrow. Not that I know of, anyway."

Caleb makes an exaggeratedly uncertain face. "Is rowing a sport, though?" he asks, voice tipping up in playful skepticism. He's mostly joking, of course. He knows that a lot goes into being able to row competitively, even if he's not familiar with the actual... well... sport.

"Maybe that's something you and he can argue about," she says, laughing at the overly dramatic confusion on his face. "You know, since you're already getting to know each other better."

"Oh, don't worry," Caleb says, finishing off his sandwich. "We will definitely be having words. Up to, and including, 'dude, why don't you row anymore?'" He grins and works on his drink next, before pulling a yogurt and a bag of granola out of his lunch box.

"Up to and including, you're really branching out." He grins at her, and it's easy to smile back, their earlier discord almost forgotten. Whatever happens between Caleb and Neil, Rosie will always have the depth of her friendships--with both of them.

"What else are you planning to invite him to? It can't just be shopping for your apartment and going to the gym."

"Why not?" Caleb quips, then holds his hands up innocently. "I know, I know! I dunno, we hang out. Like, we play video games. Well, I play video games; Neil's pretty terrible at them, actually." Well, most of them. He's good at the strategy and puzzle games. He laughs a little, though, thinking about it. "And we watch movies, and stuff. I dunno, we're friends, we do friend things!"

"Because you should have more imagination than that, and it's terribly disappointing that you don't," she says, deadpan for a moment before she breaks into a laugh. "Alright, I guess as friends, you're not doing so bad."

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so sing while you have time, let the sun shine down from above

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