Aurelie slumped against the bed, or tried. She had come to apologize to her sister, to beg her to understand. If she wanted to. She thought--Aurelie didn't know what she thought. There was no room for the apology now, no matter what Ana said. Not with Niccolette there, at least, her presence feeling bigger than the little room. Aurelie wasn't quite sure why the Bastian woman made her so nervous. She hadn't done or said anything in particular in this moment to set Aurelie's nerves on edge. Yet they had been, the moment she had walked into the room and saw her there.
Perhaps, Aurelie thought dourly to herself, her face scrunching up without her notice or permission, it was just that proximity to two ladies--real ladies, real people--made her too keenly aware of what she wasn't. Ana was quite enough to deal with; Aurelie was well-practiced in feeling inferior to her. Niccolette was not her sister. The very idea made her want to laugh; she restrained herself.
Ana had gone to light the fire with a pat to her head some time ago. Getting up to help would probably be wise. Aurelie remained where she was. Her eyes almost drifted closed. She was very, very tired. More than she had been in a few days, if not longer.
What she really wanted, she thought, was to have someone to talk to. To spill out all the thoughts about her sister, the fight, everything--dump them out onto the ground so she could neaten them back up again. Ground herself. It was an idle wish; there wasn't anyone like that for her. Not her roommates, certainly--she wasn't close enough to either of them. Fionn, maybe, but it was too hard to... It was difficult to arrange, and it seemed a waste of his time besides. No, she would just have to... to figure something else out. Carry on as she had been, really, since childhood.
Aurelie hadn't been watching Niccolette or her sister while she lost herself in her own small misery. The sound of her voice startled her into sitting up. The motion was too quick; Aurelie's head swam just a little. Oh this was just tremendously embarrassing, to be so wobbly from barely a glass.
Aurelie thought to nod, not trusting her voice, but remembered--no, she didn't want to do that again. "Oh! Uhm, yes, I--well not exclusively, sometimes they need--I do other things, too but... Erm. Yes ma'am, I do." She wasn't quite sure what Niccolette was looking at on her face--it wasn't, she felt, her eyes. Her hand mirrored Niccolette's gesture and she grimaced, feeling powder under her fingertips. Flour. What an absolute mess she must be.
...And on the bed. Aurelie sat up straighter then and continued to come back to a stand. She turned around, dismayed to find she had indeed tracked flour onto the linens. She'd only caught a flash if Niccolette's expression before she turned away; she wasn't quite sure what to do with the information.
What was she doing? Why had she even come, in such a state? Was she hoping to prove she was exactly as hopeless as Ana already thought her to be? Dismayed, Aurelie brushed at the flour. The floor was at least a better place for it than the bed. All she seemed to accomplish was driving it further into the weave.
"I like it," Aurelie continued, her neck heating up again. She wasn't sure if Niccolette was still looking at her. That seemed likely--she was making rather a spectacle of herself, wasn't she? "Er, cooking, that is--it's. Uhm. It's nice. Not all the time," she added and though she knew she was babbling now she seemed unable to stop, "there was the accident, of course, when I--oh. Erm. Nevermind."
"There, all done. See, I'm not so completely helpless, hmm?" Ana returned, slightly more disheveled than before. But still pretty, Aurelie thought. It just seemed to soften the controlled edges of Ana's appearance. How she managed that trick, Aurelie wasn't quite sure. If it was in their blood, that particular ability had skipped her. Aurelie just looked--looked a slattern. Still she smiled at Ana, who brushed what Aurelie could only assume was more flour off of her shoulder. How she managed to get so much on herself today was a mystery--normally, she thought, she kept a little tidier. She had been out of sorts during dinner service, she supposed. After... well. After.
"What accident, Birdie?" Ah. So Ana had heard. Those gold eyes looked at her with concern. Aurelie couldn't meet them. She looked from her sister and back to Niccolette, then to the floor. She shook her head. It was, she thought despairingly, not really a story worth telling.