Chapter 48
LARS
Lars does not anticipate Phoenix will be very happy with him when she discovers he is following her. That is why he makes sure to bang his boots against the ground as he walks. That way she will be annoyed with him and not frightened.
Indeed, they are almost to the city gates, Phoenix’s hood pulled over her head, when Phoenix whirls on him.
“Go back to the Nomad and tell him he should have sent someone quieter if he wanted to trail me,” says Phoenix.
Lars smiles. “The Nomad did not send me. I come representing myself.”
Phoenix’s shoulders sag, but she turns all the way around to face him instead of just looking over her shoulder. “What do you want?”
Lars is not one to butter up his requests with unnecessary preamble. “I want you to live with me.”
Phoenix goes very, very still. Does not answer. Lars does not think she looks happy. He repeats himself, in case she didn’t hear. “I want you to live with me.”
“Yes, I heard you the first time,” she says.
“I inherited a generous sum when my father died,” Lars explains.
“This is how I keep my house. I know you think me unemployed, but I have rationed out my inheritance for the span of my life.” Lars does not say so, but this is necessary when one’s primary interests are insects and acting.
“You need not worry about the creditors coming to take my home.”
Phoenix massages the bridge of her nose. “Lars, we had a nice conversation the other night. But that was all it was. Whatever you think it was, you’ve clearly misinterpreted the situation.”
Lars does not know what Phoenix means and says so.
Phoenix’s voice is firm. “I’m not interested in you romantically, Lars.”
It is clear to Lars that Phoenix is the one who has misinterpreted the situation. He wrinkles his nose in disgust. “I assure you, I have spent much too much time with insects, observing their rites, to be interested in anything as base as reproductive activities.”
Phoenix blinks.
Lars fears he might have offended her. “I am sure to someone who is interested in such activities, you would be considered a fine specimen.”
Phoenix places her hand over her mouth quickly.
He is not sure what expression she is making underneath her fingers, but by the time she pulls her hand away, her face is blank.
“Alright, then. Why do you want me to live with you? You’re not experimenting on me like you did Tink, if that’s what you’re hoping for. ”
Lars was hoping for that, yes. But he figured Phoenix would be antagonistic to the idea. Better that she refuse it upfront rather than him bringing it up and risking not getting what he actually wants.
“I wish to have a roommate.”
“You’ll have to look somewhere else then. Seeing as the Nomad’s plan failed, I have no money for rent.”
“You may stay free of charge.”
Phoenix laughs. “There’s no such thing as free.”
Lars has heard of this economic concept before. He likes that Phoenix knows about it. He wonders if she has read the works of Taron, or, if not, she would be willing to.
“Do you prefer to live by yourself then?” asks Lars. He fortifies himself for disappointment.
Phoenix frowns. “Well, no. But I… Listen, I know you. I know men. You want something. Just tell me what it is, and I’ll tell you if it’s something I’m willing to pay.”
Lars so far feels as though this conversation is a success. He had calculated the chances of her giving him an outright no with no stipulations. The odds had not been favorable toward him.
He does not particularly want to admit why he wants Phoenix to live with him. It is embarrassing. But he does want her to live with him, very much.
“I would like to have a friend,” says Lars.
“Lars,” says Phoenix, though he’s not sure why. He knows his own name.
“It is not often that I find someone whose company is compatible with my temperament,” he says.
Phoenix’s mouth twitches. “You think our temperaments are compatible?”
“Yes.”
Phoenix gestures with her hand. Lars is familiar with this gesture, one to continue speaking.
“The Nomad will want to live with Tink, so they were both out of the question. Acel doesn’t like me much. And Venus is dead.”
Phoenix twitches a bit before responding. “So we’re compatible because I’m your only option?”
“Exactly.” He is glad she understands. “There are additional reasons too. I noticed onboard that you often kept to your own room. This is a quality I would like in a roommate. I would not tolerate it well if someone were always trying to bother me whilst I was studying my insects. You have mentioned before that you cannot cook, but that is fine, because I can more than make up for that deficit. I excel at the culinary arts. You will have to learn to play Fate’s Fortune, of course”—this is Lars’s favorite strategy game—“although, on nights on which you do not wish to play it, I am used to playing it solitary.”
Phoenix chuckles, crosses her arms, and looks to the side. Lars thinks this is a good sign, indeed.
“Fine,” she says. “I’ll agree to it. But only on a trial basis.”
Lars is confident the trial will go brilliantly and that Phoenix will benefit from the arrangement as much as he does. He is happy to agree to these terms.
“But Lars,” Phoenix says, a warning in her voice. “Touch me, even once, and I’ll kill you.”
“Please do,” says Lars. “For if I demonstrate any sexual inclination toward you at all, the only explanation is that I have accidentally ingested silica nocturna eggs, and that they have hatched and infested my adrenal glands, spurring on a rather destructive sexual drive, to which I would much prefer death.”
Phoenix does not answer. Lars does not mind.