ataraxion | 002 [action]

[Well, he said he would do it. Even if that was back when no one really had their bearings, and listening for sound would have been the best way for a certain someone to locate him. For whatever reason, they've managed not to physically run into each other yet, possibly because he's shying away from it.

In any case, you have some rather skilled violin-playing coming from Room 157, and the door's open. Playing the slow section of Czardas by Monti, to be specific. ~~Not. Alejandro.~~ If you happen to look in, he's looking rather... focused, pained, something or other.

What. He is totally not being passive-aggressive. He is totally not going directly against what he told Alfred about "exaggerating prowess with the intent to change an opinion is a form of manipulation and I don't want to do that to her." Because this is music. Doing that with music doesn't count. Music is always up for interpretation and it's not his fault if people think he deliberately chose to play a rendition of a Hungarian folk tune. That's just their opinion.

In any case, feel free to react however you please. Ogle his mad skillz, bang on the wall to get him to shut the fuck up, whatever you like. If you're not the person he's beckoning, however, be prepared for some annoyance.]

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I shouldn't be surprised that you picked that, should I?

[... Playing slows slightly and he pauses when she speaks, and he looks at her for a moment. (Disregarding the uniform; ahh, she hasn't changed. Can't blame her, as they're not the most comfortable.) Then it's back to playing, looking away now, but with the faintest hint of a smile.]

I'm just practicing.

[Looking back at her again before becoming lost in the music again, closing his eyes.

So he looks all longing and shit while he's got his eyes pressed shut and his chin nestled over the chin rest, and his posture as close to enveloping the instrument as humanly possible. Shameless? Hell, no. This is very clearly the best alternative to actually talking about his feelings.]

By using the Csárdás? Come now, you know you picked that for a very specific reason, don't try and think you can fool me.

[Okay, really no way to continue playing when she's like that, even just physically speaking. Going to slowly place the violin down beside him on the edge of the bed, just starting to turn his face to her but the proximity is a bit too much to not feel like he'd be stepping too far in the "invitation" department, if you will.

Still going to lean his head a little bit against her. Not fully, just a little tilt. And he takes a deep breath before earnestly asking:] ... So, what is the situation here, really. The last I spoke with you outside of business, you left me, but I've never been sure if it was out of fear from the surrounding events, or if you truly couldn't stand me anymore.

[It seems like a stupid thing to wonder based on the way she's acting towards him now, but knowing all the teasing she'd done when they were on terrible terms with each other about a hundred years earlier, it's sort of valid.]

Out of events, out of the needs of my people, government changing hands several times before Russia got his hands on me. I really had no choice in the matter, swept up into a mess of things without my wounds even having healed fully. Stability was shaky for me, at best, during those times.

I would think you knew better than anyone that it wasn't on my own personal feelings that I had to leave. I didn't want to, but what was I supposed to do?

[So warm. ... You know, honestly, he really needed something as simple as a hug, from anyone really, but to have it be her was pretty much ideal. It had been longer than he could remember since he last felt like all the tension and anxiousness in his body just disappeared in a matter of seconds like that. Slowly returning the embrace now, just... simply. Nowhere near passionate, just... warmth is a good thing, physically and emotionally.]

How would I have known how you looked back on it all when we weren't speaking to each other? I mean, let's face it; because we were married, I dragged you down with me when I fell. Any logical person would take that as a danger to avoid in the future. It happened again with the second war, too, and that was just a simple alliance. [Small, sarcastic laugh.] I'm a magnet for misfortune. Not constant misfortune, but being built up to something great and then having it turn completely sour. When you didn't speak to me I thought you were just playing it safe.

[And now the embrace is getting a little stronger, and he's burying his nose against her neck, in her hair, clutching her, speech muffled.] I'm so sorry.

[An open door and music (a combination she definitely hasn't seen since well...a long time) is always reason enough to snoop, and she'll peer in just when his playing reaches its allegro vivace apex.

Snoop snoop snoop, indeed.]

[Too focused to notice, at first, scratching away with that bow. Good scratching, mind you. But yes. Finally he glances up and sees that someone is there. Blushing slightly, he smiles and lowers the violin.]

Sorry, am I bothering you? I can close the door.

No, no, it's quite all right. Please, go on.

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waaah, late! D: sorry

It's coo', it's coo'! I'm a slow threader myself. :d