When he got home, Cian didn't bother taking his clothes off. Instead, he swallowed a sleeping pill and fell into bed without eating, the thought of food making his stomach turn. Surprisingly, he didn't dream that night, and when he woke he only felt groggy, but able to shake it off to shower, redress himself, and pack his bag with some jewelry he wanted to finish, then hurried out into the cool morning air after forcing himself to eat a few pieces of buttered toast. The cool air seemed to clear his mind, but he couldn't help but recall Layland. A cruel man he couldn't help but keep obsessing over. He felt, in a way, he had saved a poor young woman from a sad life of forced love. It was something that, while he had never experienced naturally, Cian felt was a very delicate thing. It played with emotions so intricately.

When he got to the art building, Cian decided to go to his locker and pull his sculpting tools out early so he didn't have to go back to do so later. As he opened it, a strange feeling overcame him. Loneliness. A prickling loneliness that started in the pit of his mostly empty stomach and prickled upward, mostly in his spine. He sighed, the breath catching and coming out in a quiet, ragged sob, and he pressed his head against his locker. If he could just stop thinking about that bastard...

Layland walked down the hall of the art building, glad that there weren't many people there yet. Artists were whimsical and not punctual by nature, though he often though the same of scientists. Everyone had something else to be wrapped up in than school, even though that was the most important thing. He himself was wrapped up in thoughts. With each step he took, the more he wanted to turn around and run back to the lab. He hoped that he wouldn't run into Cian at all so he could tell himself at least he tried. Layland stopped short of his goal when he looked up and realized he was by the lockers and the person he was looking for was already there.

"Cian..." he said, coming to a stop three feet away because that was as close as he would get. He cursed the unsteady tone in his voice and was wasn't face to face with the other student. He would make this conversation quick and painless. Or, sort of painless. "Is there some time you're free today that you can stop by the lab? I promise it won't be much of a bother." Please say no so this unnatural nervousness could go away.

Cian gasped, feeling as if he wanted to dive headfirst into the locker as if it were larger than it really was. He quickly slammed the door, turning a bit more to hide himself from Layland as if he could camouflage himself by doing just that, and wiped his eyes. They felt more like burst dams, though, and it took a moment to stop the floods. He breathed in, about to reply, but his voice caught in his throat and he coughed. He shuddered, refocusing himself. "Fine." He barked at last. "Noon."

He shoved away, not bothering to ask why Layland was in the art building when he definitely didn't belong. He made it to the room quickly, nearly running into the young woman he knew to be Melody. He gasped, bringing his hand up to his face. "I'm sorry..." He muttered. "I wasn't watching where I was going..."

"It's okay." Melody smiled brightly at him, then a concerned expression crossed her face. "Are you okay? You look like you've been crying."

Cian bit his lip. "I... no, I..." He sighed. "Yes. I've just been in a rough place lately... is all..."

Melody knitted her brow, pushing back her brown hair. "That's too bad..." She said, and sounded truthful about it. "I'm so sorry! Do you need to talk about it?"

Cian shook his head. "No... N-no, thanks, but I appreciate it." He smiled a bit, and reached into his bag. "I'm sorry if this seems a bit odd, but I thought this would suit you rather well." He brought out a small bracelet of silver, with yellow gems set in flower-shaped settings. Melody's eyes widened in surprise. "I made it..." He admitted. "It just... fits your personality if you ask me." He ducked away, hurrying into the room before the girl could reply.

Oh, so Cian gave him a time after all. Layland stood in the hall a minute after he walked away, still processing that. Finally he turned and started to walk away. He paused by the studio windows and looked in at the paintings that sat on their easels. He lingered, trying to catch a glimpse of flowers, but he didn't see what he was looking for and he wouldn't stop to blatantly stare. He wondered what she would think if she knew he watched her paint. Maybe he would talk to her, tomorrow, maybe.

He headed back to the lab after stepping into his mentor's office. Layland didn't have any new work to do and the older man was too busy for chatting even if Layland was in the mood for it. Once in the lab, he pulled over one of the assistants who was cleaning vials. "I need ten new rats for next week. See to it."

"Yessir," the young girl said before hurrying away. Layland didn't think he expression was too bad, but the lab assistants kept their distance even when he was in a good mood. He might have treated someone to dinner after a successful project if they would stick around long enough for him to suggest it. He just settled down with his samples and did the usual observe and report until noontime.

At his working station, Cian focused on his easel. He felt as if someone were watching him carefully from time to time but he didn't acknowledge it, carefully painting his intended creation. It was a set of gray eyes, close-up as if a photo were zoomed in, under a set of intense brows. The background they resided on was a lightly tanned human skin tone, and a little hair threading down. He knew who it was but decided to ignore the semblance. It didn't matter anyway---all kinds of people had such gray eyes under such intense brows. It didn't matter. He looked down after giving the thick layers of paint a little texture as real human eyes had, glancing at the clock an dreading the time. It was just a few minutes before noon, and everyone was already packing up. He started cleaning up as Melody approached, startling him.

"Thank you for the gift." She said, smiling and showing Cian her left wrist, where the bracelet sat. "But you ran off before I could ask you anything..."

Cian wrapped up his paintbrushes, biting his lip and looking at the young woman. "Ah... I'm sorry... What did you want to ask?"

Melody smiled. "I just wanted to ask if you like me."

Cian felt his face grow warm, and he looked down quickly. "Um... I mean, not... in a way... that might b-be... romantic..." He admitted, covering his painting so it would dry without being bumped. "I d-don't mean anything by it, I just... I... um..." His stomach was flip-flopping, but Melody smiled.

"It's okay, Cian. I just wanted to ask." She smiled, saying goodbye and stepping away, her fingers manipulating the bracelet on her wrist. He looked down, packing his bag and suddenly feeling sick again. He had agreed to meet Layland in the science building, and now he had to honor that agreement. As he walked, Cian breathed in and out carefully, trying to settle his stomach.

Layland expected to be waiting anxiously, but the chemical equations had a way of pulling him in even if he didn't have anything new to work with. His phone beeped at noon and he glanced around. The lab had emptied in the past few minutes as others went to find lunch. He often worked through that though, so he hardly minded. Since he figured Cian wouldn't know the way to the right lab, he headed to the front of the building. It would be more efficient if he just fetched the other student.

After waiting by the door for only a minute, he spotted Cian. Layland was glad he didn't have to wait longer and not just because he hated waiting. There was always the possibility that he would be stood up. Layland chuckled to himself, amused at the terminology he was thinking. This wasn't a date. He waved Cian over and gestured down one of the halls. "Come this way. Should only take a minute. I just have a few things that I need from you to test.

He stepped into the building beside the art building and immediately felt out of place. It didn't look much different, beyond the layout, but Cian felt as if he simply didn't belong where he was. Wrapping his arms around himself, he turned a corner and found Layland waiting halfway down, at a doorway. He kept his gaze down, letting his hair fall in front of his face. "Yeah, sure..." He muttered, quietly falling into step behind Layland as the man led the way. Cian hadn't been this far into the building before, and now he hated to admit to himself that he had to rely on the man who disliked him anyway.

He kept his arms around his bag and himself, suddenly concerned. What did Layland want from him? What did he want to test? It made his stomach flop again and he paused, letting it settle with a few deep breaths before going to catch up.

The labs sat in the back side of the building behind the classrooms. Teacher offices lined the hallways between and most had their doors closed for lunch break. The chem lab was the second down and Layland stepped inside. He immediately let out a relieved sigh. This room was home and at least that could bring him comfort. He walked to his station, then turned to face Cian who looked as out of place as Layland felt at home.

"I'm not going to do anything weird to you. You can chill out a bit," he said with a small sigh. He reached into a shelf and pulled out a cheek swab kit, passing it over to Cian. "I need your DNA for starters. I designed the love potion to be specific to me, so I don't think I can create a cure without a proper profile to work with. I'd also love an MRI of your brain, but I doubt you'd agree to that."

In the strange and alien chem lab, Cian felt as if he had been plucked from the dark ages and had been tossed into the world of the future. Everything was neat. Everything was orderly. He crossed his arms and gritted his teeth as he stepped forward, along with Layland, to keep close but retain a relative distance. When he was spoken to, Cian wrinkled his nose and shifted a little, keeping his arms clamped around him tightly until he had to take the small kit, and grimaced a bit, though he licked the swab and ran it through his mouth.

Sliding the swab back into its packet, Cian narrowed his eyes and shoved the pack into Layland's hand. "Nope." He said sternly, turning on his heel. "Thanks for the offer though." The words were venomous, which was terribly unusual for Cian. But he didn't feel like worrying about what Layland thought about him. He already knew. Halfway out of the room he tripped over thin air, stumbling to the door and feeling his face burn with embarrassment and his stomach flop again. He had to eat something or he'd feel ill for the rest of the day, and that translated very negatively. He walked quietly, clasping his arms around himself again in a protective manner.

Layland took the swab kit and for a second he just watched Cian. It wasn't that what he saw was particularly interesting, but that he was too stunned to do anything but stare. He should have expected that Cian would make a quick exit, but somehow he still found himself knocked back by how quickly the other student made a retreat and that venom. Neither rare things to be aimed in Layland's direction, but they still bothered him.

The kit got dropped into its rightful place all tucked away nicely and by that time, Cian was already out of the room. Finally Layland kicked into gear and hurried for the door after him. He stuck his head out and scanned. Seeing that the other was still near, but certainly not looking back, Layland yelled after him. "Am I so bad you have to run away like that?" Probably someone somewhere could hear this, but he didn't see anyone else in the hallway. He didn't really care. "Isn't there anything I can do to make you hate me less?"

When he was in the hall Cian felt as if he were in the clear. That he could get away without feeling poked or prodded or evaluated as if he were a failed science experiment that wouldn't go away. But Layland's voice forced him to stop, and he put his thumb between his teeth to keep them from chattering. Then he turned, nearly losing his balance. "You can stop forcing things on me." He yelled, surprised at just how loud his voice was, though it cracked here and there. "You can stop pushing me, and acting like it's a personal insult if I don't accept your help. Maybe you can figure out why I don't want to spend time with you in any manner, if you're so damned logically inclined!"

He stopped himself prematurely, breathing in as if he'd forgotten how to in the moments before, and spun, using the nearby wall as a support. He felt a bit dizzy---lack of food, of course, but it was frustrating to show physical weakness in front of Layland. But he had to get away from him, find his seat in the corner of the cafeteria with a sandwich or salad, or something that could join the bread he forced down earlier in the morning. That---and Layland, though it made him hate himself---was his immediate thought.

Layland scowled, feeling his anger rise. He could really feel it heating his skin and bubbling up and even though he tried to push it down, it kept rising up. The anger was born of frustration though, not an insult to his pride. "I'm not trying to force you to do anything!" He stumbled over the words. Was he really being so forceful? Of course there was the love potion thing, but that was accidental forcing and he was strong with his opinions. But he wasn't trying to be a horrible person. "I'm just trying to make this better, okay. So what if I'm logical? That's never bothered anyone before!"

He might have kept on, but seeing Cian lean against the wall, Layland paused. He stepped out of the doorway and into the hall before moving awkwardly to the other's side. He put a hand on Cian's shoulder with so much awkwardness it was obvious he didn't normally attempt comforting gestures. "Are you alright? Should you go to the nurse's or something?"

His eyes were closed for a moment to combat the dizzy feeling that washed over him in light waves, and ignore the sour words shot his way. They didn't matter now. They would probably never be able to get along---the very thought was ridiculous at this point. He immediately shrank away from a seemingly random touch, then shook himself a little. He hadn't quite understood the impact the gesture would feel, regardless of the awkward way it was handled. And despite the tension they had just endured, Cian hated himself for leaning into the touch a bit.

"N... no..." He muttered, shaking his head and brushing back his hair. "I just... I haven't eaten well... these past few days. Just have to eat something..." He stood upright, straightening his bag and nodding. "I'll be off then... You ought to get started on that... cure, I guess." He kept close to the wall when he started off this time, in case he lost his balance again. Even so, he put a hand where Layland's had rested and bit his lip.

Layland sighed, but he let Cian walk away. It wasn't really his business if the guy looked unwell. Layland just didn't want someone to collapse right in front of him. Not that he would have cared if it were some lab assistant. They were other people's business, but somehow, Cian was his. Therefore, he cared just a little bit. "Fine, I'll work on the cure..." he muttered before he slipped back into the lab and let the door close with a heavy thud. He loved that mechanical, self closing, heavy sound.

The lab had an empty, equally heavy feeling to it. Layland settled into a stool and stared at the equipment like it was foreign to him. He would be a liar to say he didn't notice Cian lean into his touch. It shouldn't have mattered one bit, but he found himself thinking about that feeling for no reason at all. He needed to get his head back on straight, but the most he was able to do before other students started filing back in from lunch was package the DNA test to be sent to a lab. He couldn't test for the results here.

Cian felt rather awful, and a little moreso when Layland accepted the arrangement and left. But it was for the best, and he left the building, crossing the courtyard and going to the cafeteria. He kept his head low, fishing out money for a hamburger, and took it to his usual place, the table in the corner. Settling down, he managed to eat all of his small lunch and feel a bit better, then take out his unfinished jewelry and set it out on the table. With his hands around the small bits of gold pieces, they couldn't be seen slowly looping together, and the spark that sealed each end of the tiny links was there only for an instant.

The shoulder Layland had touched still felt warm, as if his hand were still there. It had been a strange act of somewhat-kindness, something Cian was still having trouble fully wrapping his head around. But soon enough Layland would have a manner to stop this nonsense feeling. That was what it was, of course---nonsense. Fake emotions. As if he were the one hypnotized, and not his influence over another. But he would never go so far as Layland had with his little love potion concoction.

The rest of the day Layland spent in and out of the lab, stopping only for the most important things. He even hassled one of the assistants into going out and buying him lunch. It took a while, but Layland finally found his drive, and once he had it, it was hard to get him out of the lab again. Sure there wasn't much to do without the results of the DNA test and the arrival of his lab rats, but he had enough to keep him busy between searching for a cure and his other project. When he wasn't reviewing his notes, he was doing paperwork for his mentor. The mix of those two kept him level headed.

"Have you figured out things with your project?" Layland looked up to see Professor Carter standing in the doorway, one eyebrow raised.

"Yes. It just turns out there is a second half I didn't anticipate," he responded without looking up from his notes. "I should have viable prototypes in a month perhaps."

For some reason the professor didn't look believing, though he said nothing of the sort. "A tool for animal breeding, right?" The man shook his head and Layland just smiled. He didn't know half of the reason such a 'medicine' had been created.

The gold chain grew in intricacy, folding in one one another, looping against one another. White gold was threaded through, making small tracks through the darker, more yellow gold. He was focused more now that he'd eaten and surprisingly, his jewelry made him think more about what was in front of him and not on a particular living, breathing form somewhere in one of the nearby buildings, if not this one. His short yelling match with the man had Cian brimming with some odd form of energy, or was it just the adrenaline? His hands were shaking slightly, so perhaps it was the latter. He sighed, shaking his head and looking up, finding no one around that would find interest in speaking to him.

The chain he finished was heavy in his hands, and he gave it a sad little smile. It was okay, but nothing special. He wouldn't be able to focus on anything especially complex for a while, no doubt. However long a cure would take to be made. Mentally he kicked himself yet again for actually trusting some random bottle put in his locker, mistakenly so at that. It could have been poison. Well, that was an apt description. Cian gave the chain a humorless smile, tight on his lips. Maybe he would skip sculpting class again. Maybe he'd drop it and take two painting classes instead...

Throwing himself into his work was something Layland was very good at. He passed the entire day doing things he needed to do, but weren't really important at all. Why was he thinking that way? That his work wasn't important. It was just that he wasn't working on the cure yet. He would have to start next week and it made him unusual antsy having to wait even that few of days. It occurred to him as he cleaned up his lab station that he other things should seem important in his mind. Glancing at his watch, he realized it was mid afternoon and he had somewhere to be...almost thirty minutes ago.

Layland muttered a curse as he hurried across campus to his car. He didn't have time to go glancing randomly places, but he slowed his pace just for a second walking past the art building. He had no reason to do this. When he noticed it, he doubled his walking pace again and made it to the parking lot in less time than usual. Today was his mother's birthday and he promised to have dinner with her. Actually, his whole family promised that, but Layland expected he would be the only one to show up. Perhaps his brother would make it even later than Layland, but the family shared the gene to get so lost in work that obligations became unimportant. It was something he considered changing from time to time.

He had skipped class once more, despite feeling awful about it. The obligation was there, but he just couldn't be bothered. It was because of this poison in his body, there was no doubt. Being inherently obsessed with someone, desperate for their attention despite knowing they were a bullheaded, work-obsessed, blunt, borderline emotionally defective ass was ruining his chances of distancing himself from his magician family. And if he failed his classes and then declined his family's livelihood, he'd be cast out. Abandoned. Banished. A whole slew of old-fashioned terms that meant he would no longer be privy to his bloodline's assets, and therefore effectively homeless. But he had to tell his mother that he was at least dropping the sculpting class because it wasn't living up to his concepts. He didn't think he could face his father, even over the phone, with this.

Right. He'd rarely ever lied to his parent and doing so this time just felt like an insult. Mostly to himself. Still, he forced himself to dial the number on his cell as he stepped out of the art building. Around this time, with the time differences, they would be home and possibly setting up more public appearances and high level performances.

His hand was shaking as it held the phone to his ear and when the ringing paused because someone picked up the office phone, it sounded, the voice was deep and male. Cian ended the call and gasped, shoving the phone into his pocket and moaning to himself. "Oh, God oh God oh God..." He couldn't do it. He couldn't do it today, at least. Not now. Maybe in the familiar isolation of home he would be able to.

Layland checked his watch one more time before he walked into the restaurant the reservation had been made for. It was the sort of expensive place that teemed with people and noise, but also tantalizing smells. As expected, his mother sat at a table alone, a bottle of wine there, already half empty despite the fact that he was only really late. Layland slid into one of the chairs with the best smile he could manage. "Happy birthday. Are you mad?" he asked. He knew his smile signed his own guilt with how huge it was.

"No, just tired. It's always like this. Your father called--stuck with clients. I used to like that about him..." she started before taking a drink and changing conversation topics and her mood with scary ease. "So how have you been Layland? You never come home anymore?"

They talked through the course of dinner, mostly about school since it was the only thing they could talk about without ending in a depressing conversation. Layland's mind was most there, but occasionally it wandered back to Cian and the love potion. He never had anyone to talk to about his love troubles or any troubles like this really. He decided maybe this time he would say something. They plates had been cleared, but his mom was still intent on drinking more since her husband would pay for it all. Layland wouldn't stay and watch her drink all night though. He said his good byes, then paused as he pushed in his chair.

"By the way...how do you know when you're in love?" he asked hesitantly. His mom just poured herself another glass of wine.

"When you forget how to walk away against your better judgement. At this point, I don't know anymore."

Painting by hand was out of the question. Cian was too nervous to settle the shaking in his wrist, so he used his hands instead to wave at each item as they were needed, mixing colors, thinning and thickening paint as needed, letting everything order itself under his half-watchful eye, one hand clasped tight around his phone. He knew he had to do it now and if he didn't, he wouldn't until it was too late. It was too late to sign up for another painting class but he would be able to after the semester ended, probably.

He finally dialed again, promising himself he would keep on the line no matter what, until the phone on the other end was picked up and he heard a familiar voice: "Don't hang up on me again."

Cian's throat restricted immediately. Of course it was his father again. "I-I-I'm s-sorry, I j-just---"

"Cian, you're speaking to your father. Why are you so nervous?" There was a pause. "Are you failing your classes?"

"No!" His voice wavered and he was sure he'd answered too quickly. "I just... I'm just... My sculpting class isn't... isn't... It's n-not what I was hoping..."

"Too difficult?"

"N-no. T-too easy. I feel... I want... I just want to drop it. And s-start a secondary painting class when this semester ends..." His heart was pounding hard, and when he glanced at the setup, realized he'd let the paintbrush go on its own. It was forming a muddy illusion of a dark forest, and he waved it to stillness. "I-is that... I mean, are y-ou... okay...?"

"I'll speak to your mother about this." His father's voice was cold and clipped, and he didn't even say goodbye before he hung up. Cian collapsed onto the chair nearby, breathing through his mouth to combat the panic attack that wanted to set in. He knew what that meant. Most likely it was a no, and he would be told to finish up what he was doing and to come home.

Layland settled into a dark mood after the dinner and it remained through his dreams and into the next day. Who was he kidding thinking that love was a light and sunshiny thing. He'd be better off finding someone as screwed up as he was than chasing after poppy girl anymore. First he had to deal with his current love though. He glanced at his watch from where he lay half under a stack of papers that tilted over on him during the night. Despite the fact that the campus would be opening soon, he had to force himself to move. He didn't want to go and he always wanted to be at school.

For the first time since his freshman year, Layland rolled over and shut his alarm off. No one would miss him for one morning. In fact, the people that did know him would be happy. He'd get hell if his father ever learned about this, but Layland didn't even care. Once the love potion was fixed, he could go back to being himself and not a second sooner. Why did it take so long for rats and test results?

Cian was awake when his alarm went off. He pointed at it, and a click shut it up immediately. Most would think these otherworldly powers would make life easy, make it simple to just take what he wanted and live a nice life, or just conjure something up out of nothing, when in fact it was impossible to create nothing out of something. It took energy. Sometimes it took from people somewhere in the world. It was a convenience, but not much beyond that. Turning over and sitting up, he looked at his phone. It hadn’t rung at all last night. Feeling a cold, spider-like dread trying to crawl its way up from the pit of his stomach, Cian swallowed and stood, barely putting any effort into dressing and grabbing a piece of bread to nibble on during his walk to class.

On campus the phone in his pocket rang, however, and he froze, answering it quietly, feeling as if people were getting close to hear the conversation, which made his blood run cold.

“Cian, I’m very disappointed in you.” His mother’s tone was aristocratic and detached. Her ‘disappointed’ tone. “I thought you wanted to be a sculptor.”

“M-mother, I said... artist... Art encompasses more than just sculpting---”

“It also involves magic. Our kind of magic. Something no one else can do.”

“P-please, let me have a chance with a second art class---”

“I’ll think about this.” His mother’s sigh was sharp, like a razor blade across his neck. Like his father, she didn’t bother to say goodbye. He felt a cloud emerge above him, and suddenly he wasn’t willing to go to class. He turned, rubbing his shoulders and wrapping his arms around himself. He passed home, sightlessly traveling.

Despite deciding to stay in, it only took five minutes for Layland to get antsy laying around. He was stubborn enough to keep to his current plan of action, but he found himself getting dressed anyway. He found casual clothes, or at least as casual as Layland got. He grabbed nothing more than his keys before sweeping out the door. He would end up at the campus, but he would take his sweet time getting there. He had no phone for anyone to hassle him and he banished every single school or science related thought from his mind. Which left only...emotion related thoughts to think.

Layland didn't know what to feel anymore, and certainly not what to do with his feelings. He swore he wouldn't think about school related things, but the love potion had managed to encompass more than one corner of his very compartmentalized life. With no answers in sight, he realized this was going to be one very long walk. He skirted around the campus and walked into an unfamiliar area.

He walked into a wooded area, sighing in relief when the feeling of absolute isolation washed over him. That distinct tingling in the pit of his stomach that let him know no one else was around for quite a while, and no one knew he was even here. Cian closed his eyes and sat on the grass, spreading out on his stomach and breathing in the scent of nature, grass, earth, and dew. Escaping his home and his classes, though it was a bad idea under the circumstances, felt like a release, something he'd put off for too long. Restless, frustrated, Cian had little idea how to deal with either of these feelings because he'd been too reclusive as a child. When he was angry in any way, he acted out the only way he knew how.

Sitting up, Cian began a small manipulation, a tiny whirlwind that scooped up handfuls of leaves and loose grass, acorns from the ground, sweeping them into the sky but not over the trees, which shuddered gently in the air. The energy he exerted calmed him, eased his frustrations and his nearly-overflowing fears. He stood onto his feet and twisted with the air. If he had to leave his hope of a quiet, artistic life behind for the horrors of an open stage and spotlights, perhaps he should practice.