The next few days included awkward, albeit friendly, conversations and study sessions during which Laurel couldn't find a comfortable position on the couch. Even after all they'd said and seemed to have agreed on, time went on as normal, though with that added layer of insecurity. That is, until a day when Siren seemed more stressed out than normal. He'd noticed it as soon as he entered the office, but it became clear once she stamped something out with her blotter with too much force and muttered a raspy "fuck" under her breath. She balled her hand into a fist and took it to her forehead, resting her head against it and taking a deep breath. 

Laurel put whatever he was reading aside and got up, cautiously walking to her side and touching her shoulder. "Olga… Is something bothering you?" he asked, lowering his voice as if beckoning a secret. "I don't know, it's just… Fuck. Whatever," she said, adjusting her posture and evaluating the blot she'd tried to clean up moments before. "It's obviously not fuck-whatever." She rolled her eyes. "Yeah. Okay. You were right. I feel alone," she said, as if it was some sort of new revelation. He caressed her shoulder slightly, waiting for her to keep going. She sighed. "It's… And I don't know why it bothers me so…" she pressed her eyes closed for a moment, "Wyves and Des are going out."

Laurel paused, looking at her with a blank face. Honestly, he was a bit dumbfounded. "What?" she said, mistaking his confusion for judgement. "Um, is that like, a new thing? Because I always got that vibe from them," he said, gesturing loosely. Siren groaned, "That's worse, because I thought she was my only friend but I was the last one to know!" Laurel cleared some space on her desk to sit on, which seemed to piss her off even more, but she let it slide. From his new viewpoint, he took in the sights of her scared face and a deep breath, "Keep going." She obliged, "It's… I don't know. I've thought on it. Maybe it's because she's spared me so little time in the last few years. She has other people and I… don't," she scratched herself and hid her eyes from Laurel's. "You'll be gone soon enough. Aside from that… Maybe part of me hoped she'd look my way instead. But I… don't really feel like that anymore." She was gripping her arm, eyes focused on the papers she'd been working on.

"Damn. You're such an overthinker," Laurel said, "Seems like you've sorted it out, mostly." He couldn't really see a way to contribute. Instead, he reached his hand out to her, palm upwards. His fingertips had closed up nicely in the past week. Gingerly, she took his hand, unsure. "Yet I still feel pathetic," she said. "Look, you don't have to judge yourself for having normal human emotions," he took his free hand to her chin, lightly motivating her to look at him, "You want the people you care about to show they care about you, too. Isn't that normal?" At last, Siren didn't look away, focusing on his face. The bags under her eyes seemed more intense than usual. "I don't like it," she said simply. He smiled and, though faintly, she did too. 

"Her sister's in town," Siren started after a moment, "And they're throwing a dinner party. I was… wondering if you'd be my plus one." With a sudden fierceness, she grabbed his hand, the one that had been caressing her chin, and pressed it to her warm cheek. Her eyes dug straight into his. "Obviously, you're theoretically coming as my friend. But you know that's not the only thing I mean by the invitation." She smiled and he felt her facial muscles shift under his palm. He realized he was bending closer to her, but had no clue when he'd done it. "Sure. I'm formally trained in mingling," he said, trying to sound cool. "I mostly want someone to talk to while I'm there," she bit her lower lip and her smile grew, "But… we don't have to stay there all night, you know." 

After his heart had settled down a little, Laurel jumped down. He kept that one hand on her cheek and put the other on the back of her chair, effectively trapping her between him and her seat. "Olga… You're sounding really bold," he whispered. "I thought being direct was best," she said, stammering a bit. "It's big talk when we haven't even kissed yet," he said, pushing her glasses up a little bit. A strand of his own hair fell on her face and it was enough of an annoyance to bring him back to earth and embarrass him so. Still, she seemed unbothered, tucking it away immediately; she hardly shifted her eyes from his. "Do you want to?" she asked, tilting her head closer ever so slightly. Feeling a sudden wave of cold on his hand, he pulled her in further, but still didn't go through with it. "I do," he said. Laurel could hear her breathing perfectly; staring at her parted lips made him dizzy.

Then, Siren kicked the floor, sliding herself and her chair away from him. He stumbled forwards from the shock of it. "Cool," she said, crossing her arms and smiling cordially, "Come by again near closing time." Initially, Laurel opened his mouth to provoke her for sounding scared, but then realized he was also scared. Maybe he could have gone ahead with it in that moment; not anymore, though, because he suddenly felt completely exposed. "Sure. When's the party?" he asked. "Tomorrow." He raised his eyebrows. "Seriously? Was inviting me an afterthought?" Siren laughed, seemingly less tense. "It's not like you have anything better to do," she said, "You've been completely abandoned by your hosts, after all. You're all mine to look after." She looked up for a moment and murmured something. "Though I suppose that oughta change if war does break out," she said, pensive.

"What?" Laurel threw his weight on the desk, feeling his blood pressure drop somewhat. She shrugged. "Yeah, if it does, they might bring you under their wing. Though they don't exactly need your allegiance, passage through Ashen territory would be quite beneficial." As she stretched and twisted her arms, he took a deep breath. "No, back up," he asked, "I didn't hear any war talk." She scoffed and grinned at him, smug as always. "You definitely did. Must have tuned it out, as is your privilege to do so," she said, "But I'm sure you can imagine what it is." Yeah, it hit him. "Oh, seriously? Is the Lunar Bay finally planning on invading the western coastal line?" he asked, kind of exhausted just thinking about it. "I wouldn't know. But that's the talk. Judging by Wyvern's cryptic lines these days, I'd say it makes sense," she said, not looking too grim. "She's in the army?" Siren dragged her chair back to the desk, dodging Laurel. "Advisor," she replied.

"Well, if it comes down to pressuring the Ashen Valleys for allegiance, I might be stuck here for a while," he sighed. "It should. But would being stuck here be so bad?" The question sounded a bit like a trap. "Not the point. It would get pretty fucked." She got back to her papers, reloading her pen. "I'm sure it will. But, you know, I technically shouldn't be swaying your opinion. It seems to me like the officials and royals here view you as an easily influenced young prince," she smirked as if that was somehow funny, "I wouldn't want to get myself involved in that perception." He sighed, still resting against her desk, "They're kinda right. I'm a few months away from being crowned and I obviously have no idea what I'm doing." That made her laugh a little. "Obviously. Becomes even worse when you realize the Ashen Valleys have the highest crowning age requirements," she said. 

Laurel rubbed his eyes, already tired. "You've read everything on my family, haven't you?" he asked. She nodded, "A considerable amount." He hadn't. "Was I already born when the last biography was written?" She stopped trying to work, giving him her undivided attention. "You were a child," she said. He smiled faintly, a flash from his childhood going through his mind. "Then you can probably imagine I grew up quite sheltered… Even for a crown prince," he said. "Mm," she mumbled, pondering it for a while, "I thought that might be the case after your parents' history. Plus, any records from your childhood are haphazard at best." He chuckled, shoving his hands in his pockets. "So you see. You were right. I am behind on my geopolitics. On everything, really. I was primarily raised to be alive," he said, looking at her more affectionately than he should before reaching out to fix her glasses yet again. "I'll see you tonight, Olga. If you still want to… you know." He smiled. Going down that topic of conversation had tired him out more than he'd expected. "You too. For now, I still do," she said. As a goodbye, he rekindled some fairy lights for her before taking off.