It did not feel good to hear Soph frequently mentioning the other girls he'd crushed on, or bothered with, or outright had a thing for.  He was over Misty, and long over Fauna.  He'd never even been into Envy or Alexia - that had been fun, impulse, stupid impulses that didn't mean the same thing to him that Sophie did.  He didn't know how to show her though.  He didn't really know what he was doing that was wrong.  Or not that he'd admit to himself.

Ah, and then she kissed him.  His eyes closed gently when she moved up to kiss him and he felt that same excited feeling in the deepest part of his guts.  But it felt weird this time.  He felt all vulnerable and stuff. 

He couldn't shake the feeling that she was asking him not to do the exact things that bothered him.  He hated it when she got flirty with other boys - he wanted her attention, to feel special to her.  Not even special romantically, special like really good mates.  She wanted to be free to express her affections, her playful affections, but if he did she felt like crap as well.  Maybe that was the answer.  Screw everyone and get married and get old.  He scoffed at that thought - like that would ever happen.  They'd kill each other.  It was sappy. 

So now what?  He he looked at her with a weird expression, a wince and a half.  He had all kinds of impulses - kissing her again, getting some confirmation about dating, making fun of Bevans again, crying in a corner? 

"You're special to me," he finally said.  The truth.  The truth that left him feeling all bare and not at all confident.  He wanted to be like that Auror Adon Eleor.  A fortress of a wizard.  Sturdy.  Confident. "I can't explain it.  If we're dating or not, you're different.  I want you to ... like me back, I guess."

He sighed.  He bet she was having a blast with Bevans until they crossed paths and they had their perennial row.  He couldn't remember who started it, or when it got all not fun.  But the festive mood was definitely killed. 

"Sorry, Soph."

It occurred to Sophie that she had expected him to just know he was different, that he was important, while still wanting him to reassure her that she was the most special and most important. For someone who was usually so empathetic she felt like a nitwit for having been so bloody obtuse this whole time. Why would he think he was special? She had always been hugging on Chance, or Erin - and she had been so scared of losing her independence that she'd refused to change or see how her being huggy and loving with everyone might make him feel like he wasn't that important to her. She hadn't been a very good girlfriend. Maybe they both fought all that time because they were scared to care too much, to be the one that cared more because it would mean the possibility of getting hurt deeper.

They weren't supposed to be feeling or looking sad after having confirmed they liked one another. That was ridiculous, but he looked like he wanted to throw up and she sort of wanted to cry - of course that would have been the worst possible thing to do to him right now. Fig was good at glossing over things, and a lot of the time it was because he really didn't get the implications... but Sophie had a feeling that sometimes... sometimes it was because not talking about it meant not having to deal with the icky side of the emotions that came with stuff. When you had to confront a situation where both of you were right and both of you were wrong and there wasn't just this easy answer, or when things got sappy and it might endanger his reputation he was trying to create for himself. She could see how making everything glossy would be easier, way easier than this thing they were doing right now.

The other thing she knew, however, was that this thing they were doing (as awkward and icky feeling as it was) was something that needed to happen between them. Still it was all so heavy, so unlike them, it was one of those obvious moments of growing pains and a part of her wanted to rush back to the safety of being silly and loud. She didn't though, because that would have been cowardly and Sophie was no coward (most of the time). So instead she reached up and used the tip of her finger to try and collect a wayward piece of glitter from his cheek, her bottom lip held between her teeth for a moment, "Nobody makes me as crazy as you do," she paused withdrawing her finger and blowing the bit of glitter into the hallway, "but they haven't ever been all the things you are to me either".

She gave him a sheepish look, "Don't be sorry...I guess I just expected you to know that you were the most special, that what we have is different than what I have with anyone else. You're not just some boy that I fancied for awhile, you're one of my best friends...and sometimes I happen to get jealous when I feel like maybe you mean more to me than I do to you. It isn't your fault, it isn't anything you do. I just..." she paused and took a deep breath, "when I'm with you I don't have to be anything. I'm just Sophie, and for whatever reason you like me just like that. I don't have to be a crusader for Werewolf rights, or stupidly brave, or I don't know. I'm not making any sense because I'm a crazy person - but you know that and you like me anyway, and that is both wonderful and scary... because I get worried one day you'll stop".

"Yeah."

Figaro didn't know what to say, so he said, 'yeah' and let the air out of this lungs.  He looked from his hands (where he was still fiddling with glitter) back to Sophie, who was all done up and pretty.  She'd touched his face under the pretense of getting some glitter off, and Figaro really wanted to return the gesture, but he was still mighty confused about all this.

Confused about how he felt, how Sophie felt and what it all meant for ... what did they do now?  They had both admitted to having special feelings for each other, to feeling like they could be themselves with each other.  What did that mean?  What should he do? Weren't guys supposed to do things in moments like this?  Did that even matter? What did he even want to do?

He shut his eyes tight and rubbed his face.  He realized then that maybe his silence might have been disconcerting and he stuttered a bit to try and clear that up.

"I mean no - that's not... I was just thinking.  I don't have like, plans to stop liking you or anything."  He laughed a little.  "But seriously, um... I just want to be with you.  I like being around you."

He felt bold and reached over to touch a tress of her hair that was hanging down in front.  How's she get it to curl like that?

Fig looked at her again, that same pained kind of awkward expression on his face.

"Just we're clear, you don't feel like being my girlfriend? I mean, there's Bevans but we could just start tomorrow so it's not weird.  Maybe like, trial period.  A proper fortnight trial period starting Monday.  10am.  I date you, you date me, see how it goes...? Or...? No? We don't have to kiss or anything if you don't want.  I'll survive."

He would have happily kissed her, but he couldn't help but notice that part seemed to set her off somehow.   Like he only wanted to date her so they could make out?

They were worse than one of those teen dramas on the wireless. She hated stuff like that so how did she get herself into these situations? There wasn't a lot of time to ponder it because the next thing she knew Figaro was talking about a proper sort of relationship, about giving it a go again and... she was flummoxed. It was just like them to go from fighting to being awkward to being almost back together.  She cocked her head to one side and tried not to roll her eyes, "Nick and I are just friends, and not in the way that you and I have ever been... friends," she would have elaborated but it seemed a bit stupid at that point. Figaro had it in her head that she and Nicky were some kind of something other than really truly just two people who hated going places alone.

Admittedly it would be in pretty bad form to show up to the Halloween Ball with one boy and end up making out with another, but when he said the whole thing about not kissing her if she wasn't okay with it she just blinked at him. Well, maybe she could get where he got that idea, it had been a point of contention, the idea behind what they were and weren't allowed to do and her always getting her feelings hurt.  Clearing her throat, she gave a decisive nod of her head before placing her hands on either of his shoulders, "Fig, just...shut up," and before either of them had a chance to say anything else she kissed him. Unlike the kiss in the library there would be no playing this off as reactionary. She had kissed him, she had initiated it.

They were a thing now, and it made her kind of stupid happy in the back of her mind. Slowly her hands went from resting on his shoulders to her arms winding themselves around his neck, her head getting a little light from the lack of oxygen until she finally pulled away looking at him with a sort of bashful grin, "Alright, proper boyfriend, Now that we've settled that mess what are we going to fight about now? It's too early to start bickering about how to raise the children," it was safe to go back to joking now right? He'd understand that yes she wanted to date him, no they didn't have to wait till Monday, and it wouldn't just be for a trial period... unless he made her want to punch him befor ehte night was over. Really, though, how much worse could it get? She'd already broken his nose...

"I know you and Bevans aren't -"

"Fig, just...shut up." 

Figaro eagerly reciprocated Sophie's kiss, gently holding her around the waist.  He was careful of all the many strands of pearls they'd already painstakingly strung.  But mostly he was concerned with leaning in and feeling her against himself.  Warm and fuzzy in the head, in the stomach.  The way she smelled, and how could she possibly be this smooth? 

It was always over too soon, and when she pulled away he couldn't predict what she might say next so his face looked somewhat tentative.  This could just as easily be a good-bye kiss as anything else.  But she soon made her intentions perfectly clear. 

"Proper boyfriend," he echoed a true smile creeping onto his face.  She went on about what they could fight about now that everything in their young lives had finally become perfect, and he wrapped her up in a hug.

Her head resting near his, he said ever-so-tenderly,  "We could always have a nice row about your bad breath..."