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Thomas had been missing most of the day. Perhaps "missing" was the wrong word, because everyone had a good idea or two on where he might be, but it's just that he hadn't turned up for any clubs or talks or even set foot in the main meeting room all day. And so, a bit before his allotted time for the evening perimeter check (because he was prepared for this talk to take some time but didn't want to be late to his duty), the Captain set off to find Thorne. It's only after the Captain had checked all the usual spots twice, and the lake thrice, that he is hit with a horrible thought.
What if Thomas had been sucked off while no one was there to witness?
And then, a doubly more disturbing thought…
Why did that make Captain so scared?
With renewed vigour, the Captain set off to search the whole house.
With each cheacked off room he got slightly frantic until there was just one left.
Now, looking into someone's room unannounced was something that made the Captain quite uncomfortable but if Thorne was asleep or otherwise alright, he didn't want to disturb him at all. So, sucking up his discomfort in aid of a friend, Cap poked his head just through the door. At last, he'd found Thorne but.. Something was definitely not alright.
Thomas sat with his feet on the bed and his knees drawn close to his chest. It was a sight almost familiar but it looked much more sorrowful when not by the light of a window. Then he sighed and it wasn't overly dramatic or wistful- ok, so it was a bit dramatic, but the point remains that it wasn't as full of overdone emotions and purposeful whimsy as usual. The sigh was a truly bogged down thing that dragged the man's shoulders about and made him curl further into his knees. Cap's frantic state was immediately gone, no longer worried about Thorne having moved on but still, something pulled in his stomach uncomfortably seeing the poet so put out.
"Thorne?" The Captain announced his presence gently, stepping through the door fully.
"Oh, Captain." Thomas quickly unfurled and crossed his legs in what was probably an attempt at looking casual. "What brings you here?"
"I noticed your absence today and wanted to check on you. Make sure you're still about."
"You were worried I might have been sucked off?"
"W-worried? Good lord, no. I was just- it's vital that the others are informed if you were to- not that I'd want you to-" He cut off his rambling by clearing his throat and deciding there was no coming back from that blunder just nodded and kept his steely posture.
"You were worried." Thomas repeated, slightly shocked and there was a frown twisted into his words that made the Captain stall. Surely Thorne would take the opportunity to uh, take the piss? But no. He sat on the edge of his bed, looking past Cap at the walls and his fingers twitched against his trouser leg like he wanted to curl up again.
Captain frowned and walked a bit closer, "Well? Out with it, what's bothering you?"
Thomas rolled his eyes and moved from the center of his bed to sit at the edge, "I would love to indulge you, good sir. I want nothing more than to wax poetic about how the weather may relate to my mood, or the shift of seasons, or even the change of tide- although it has been so long since I set eyes on the ocean…" Thomas sighs again, "Alas, despite my artistic history…" He looks away from the wallpaper and shrugs half heartedly at Cap with a sort of resignation that was infinitely strange to see on the poet, "I haven't the foggiest idea what picture my paints are calling for."
The Captain isn't an overly emotional man, not externally at least, and a part of Thomas was hoping he'd checked out of the conversation and not actually listened to his words. The other, louder, traitorous, part of Thomas wanted nothing more than comfort and understanding from the uniformed man. As I said, the Captain isn't one for outward shows of emotions or comfort, so it was surprising (to the both of them) when he moved to sit besides Thomas on his bed. "Thorne I-" He cleared his throat and only spared the man a side glance before focusing his eyes on the wallpaper pattern, "Knowing and understanding your feelings all the time is impossible. Sometimes you just feel and have no bloody idea what's what but-" he sighed and Thomas has to privately admit that it was a sigh worthy of his sighing spot, "how to put this in appropriately flowery terms?" Thomas wanted to protest that he was perfectly able to understand and use plain language but couldn't find it in himself to interrupt the thoughtful look slightly creasing the soldier's brow. (With the dim lighting of the room hitting him so, and Thomas looking at his side on profile, one could almost admit he looked less of a walrus and more handsome than any lord. Privately of course.) Surely, Thomas thought, it would be awfully hypocritical of him to interrupt a man pondering poetry. Finally the Captain seemed to settle on his words and looked over at Thomas, "Thorne-" Captain actually smiled slightly as Thomas looked away quickly, "Thomas," he amended, "sometimes you can't know what the end result will be, as much as I hate that, sometimes you just have to uh, pick up the brush, so to speak." The two found each others eyes and Thomas nodded slowly for Captain to continue. "You might end up with a realistic landscape, you could point to each rock and tree and know exactly what you are seeing and where it belongs," His jaw flexed slightly as he readjusted his grip on his swagger stick, "but you also may end up with an abstract piece that means something different each time you look at it." The Captain cleared his throat, having realised that he was giving perhaps too much eye contact (stubbornly ignored that Thomas made no move to look away), "I suppose the point I am making is that… it's alright to not know exactly what you're doing as long as you keep, uh, painting." When he looks back into Thomas's eyes (again ignoring that Thomas was still looking at him with that soft expression) the Captain searches for any reaction (apart from appreciation. He is very much expecting teasing for this- emotional vulnerability, and doesn't quite know what to do when he doesn't get it).
Thomas seemed to be the first to snap out of whatever it was that captivated the pair and, with a heat rising to his cheeks, he looked down at his hands. "A rather roundabout way of saying your usual 'carry on', don't you think?"
"Was it appropriately flowery for you?"
"Of course. A jolly good effort."
"Thomas," He said slowly and with a nervous caution, "I realise you may just be wanting to move past or ignore the sincerity of my words, but just in case I wasn't sufficiently clear, I want to clarify-"
"You need not-"
"I want to clarify, that I don't mean my usual keep calm and carry on." He moved ever so slightly to face Thomas more head on, "Usually that implies ignoring the issue but that's not what I meant for you. I simply mean that it's all alright. Struggling isn't a shame, and neither is confusion. So long as you keep doing what it is you love, and you work on accepting your emotions, it's alright to not know the end result yet."
"Just keep painting." Thomas nodded and shifted also to face the Captain more.
"Quite." Captain choked slightly on the word as Thomas's knee bumped against his own. Again a moment passes of thick silence as both men try to figure out what the hell is happening here.
Thomas decides to deflect with a little humour and light sass, "Plan on taking your own advice?"
Cap is grateful for it and scoffs, but still he can't stop the small tug of a smile, "Bloody well cheeky of you, Thorne. I should have you running laps." The two shared a chuckle.
"I think I prefered when you called me Thomas." He admits with a small smile, testing his limits by moving just slightly closer.
After a moment where his brain has to play catch up, Captain hums thoughtfully, "Well, I'll consider it. If you join me on my walk around the perimeter."
"Join you?" Thomas flushes to a full blush and the Captain does the same.
"To uh, I only meant- just to be sure you leave your uh brooding for a while. Purely for your benefit, Thorne."
"Of course, Captain… Well, lead on, good Sir."
"Right this way, Thomas."
.
.
.
.
(Some weeks later)
"Your poem from today was rather different than usual."
"Do you remember when you told me to keep painting?"
"Of course I do, Thomas, but how is that relevant?"
"It's just that you make a rather stunning portrait."
"Oh good Lord."
"Would you like to pose for an anatomy study?"
"Thorne! That's quite enough!"
"Of course."
"Thank y-"
"Later is fine."
"Thomas!"