a dance of doves & crows ( jonathan crane )

pressure and peace .

notes: hiii guys :3 sorry for my delays, life is kinda crazy right now but i still love to make time for these characters lol, hope you're all doing good <3

song of the chapter: it's time to come home - the rentals 

"What's your dating history like, Jules?"

He asked in the beginning of their meeting, far before she could even properly wake up for the day. Still waking up for the day -- she was instantly uncertain as to how she was supposed to read it. 

He looked mildly unhappy.

Was it a test, of some kind? An effort to inch his way closer into her psyche, or just protocol? Did protocol call for dating history?

Doctor Crane readjusted himself in his seat, eyebrows furrowed together as he cleared his throat immediately after speaking. He was uncomfortable. Troubled, even, though he was usually very skilled in looking entirely unbothered.

It was so unusual to see him like that. So real, like he wasn't made of wire and iron and gears.

She bit back her first instinct to lash out with venom and anger and everything unsweet. She decided she couldn't be mistaken for a robot, even if she tried. Too volatile. 

Unsure why— Jules stopped the forming, bubbling words with a eyebrow quirked up. It wouldn't be right to do so, to be so cruel to him without reason. They were doing well... and that came with controlling her own outbursts. Her own end of the bargain.

Not verbally attacking the robot.

"That's a strange question..." Jules commented with a few confused blinks, as if to express her own objections without being too rude. 

These days she found herself watching her tongue often, for a lack of better words. She would hate to rock the boat, after all, and ruin what they were both attempting to keep stable for the past three months. She kept her own distance, he never pushed, she kept herself safe -- he did his job. That kept the peace.

And it was decent that way.

The past three months had been kind to her; despite the obvious circumstances. Falling back into a routine with Crane, returning to the scent of apple cinnamon and the sight of fancy, pretentious textbooks and leather-bound, published academic pieces. 

It was a bit like returning to your hotel during a vacation. Not home, but somewhere you could still rest. A break from the chaos that runs right outside of the doorway.

Ivy and Quinzel had been on the rocks as of late, though Jules couldn't say why. She knew no details. Ivy was closing up by the day, reminding her of the carnivorous plants she liked so much. Poisoning, intoxicating -- preparing to digest and move on.

The thing is, Ivy seemed incredibly unhappy with the situation, unlike you'd expect.

While Jules had begun to settle, her soul coming down off of the past year and what it's done to her; Ivy was mysteriously crumbling under unseen pressures, never accepting the help Jules quietly offered in the corner of the common room or cafeteria. Though what she what she could do to even help -- ? She had no idea. It didn't benefit anyone that Quinzel just looked straight-up depressed coming into work, either.