"Why's Hawthorne upset?" Sage asked curiously from where she sat beneath the boughs of the wisteria, legs tucked up beneath her neatly and hands braced against the wood flooring to either side of her. Gideon, beside her, his attention fixated on fine-tuning the strings of his violin, didn't look up at her inquiry.

"That magazine's new edition came out today; he's still on the 'Top 10 Mages You'd Want as Your Boyfriend' list. In fact," Gideon mused, tilting his head slightly, "I believe he's moved up a rank."

Sage stifled a giggle. Hawthorne's mood made sense now, as he wasn't one to wallow in any sort of self-pity for more than a second or two at a time. He liked being upbeat, he liked smiling. But, as most of the guild well knew, around this time of the month his cheer levels plummeted, replaced with nervous tension and periodic itching, courtesy of the hives Sage could just see poking out from beneath his high collar.

She'd forgotten, honestly, what day it was; otherwise, she wouldn't have bothered asking Gideon.

"Don't," Gideon warned, clamping a hand down on Sage's shoulder; the pressure forced her to plop back down on the ground, and she blinked.

"Don't what?"

"Do what you're planning to do. Let him brood. It's healthy once in awhile, considering how chipper he usually is."

But Sage was already moving, leaping lightly to her feet and traipsing across the guild to reach Hawthorne's side. He didn't lift his head to greet her, as he normally would (well, normally, his head wouldn't be down in the first place, but Sage dismissed that thought for now), leaving it buried in his arms, forehead scraping roughly against the polished wood tabletop. He shifted, though, enough for her to know he'd acknowledged her presence, and she took that as an invitation to plop down in the seat adjacent to his.

"Cheer up, Hawthorne!" she cooed, a bubbly smile crossing her lips. "It just means people like you! That means you'll get more jobs, and you can help more people, and ooh, maybe even move up to S-Class! You could be like Lock! Or Sky! Or, or, like Master! Wouldn't that be great?"

Silence. Not even a twitch of a muscle in response.

Sage pouted, kicking her legs beneath the table; her toe nudged Hawthorne's leg - just the barest of touches - and he suddenly shot up in his seat, face aflame and mouth agape. Sage, blinking, reeled back on instinct, nearly falling from her chair; she let out a squeak, and Hawthorne's hand flashed out, capturing her wrist and drawing her upright in one smooth motion, the product of tireless practice.

His face burned a brighter crimson, and she was fairly certain the hand around her wrist was trembling; his heartbeat pulsed against her skin, too quick and too painful.

"S-Sorry, Sage," he mumbled, clumsily releasing her and abruptly standing. He barely avoided tangling his feet with the legs of his stool as he stumbled to the side, raking his hands through his already-mussed hair, eyes closed and face tight. "It's, uh, it's nothing personal, you know that, I just..."

She held up a hand, beaming, and the flood of words ceased; Hawthorne pressed his lips together, rubbing his forearm brusquely, as if he needed something to relieve of his nervous energy.

"I know!" she chirped, by all accounts unfazed by his reaction to her touch. She was used to it, after all; as was everyone in Starry Rose. Hawthorne's aversion to affection was well-known by most - except, unfortunately, for his die-hard fanbase. "I just didn't want you to be sad anymore, Hawthorne! You're not our Hawthorne when you're sad!"

She was careful not to say my Hawthorne, though she felt the words on the tip of her tongue. While he might appreciate the sentiment (deep, deep down), she knew Hawthorne wouldn't be able to take the blatantly romantic connotations behind her words.

He looked distressed, even more so than before, and he opened his mouth, at once apologetic and resentful of his own shortcomings, but before he could speak, Sage's attention had drifted away from him. She bolted from her chair, darting for the guild's ornate, double-door entrance, arms thrown excitedly above her head as she squealed, "Loooooooooock! You're home!"

The blond man shook off his pack, easily catching Sage's flying hug and spinning her around, carried by her momentum. He set her down after giving her a squeeze, patting her head, while she chattered on and on about the little things he'd missed while he was gone. He listened attentively, head cocked with interest, though he made a point to nod to each of the present guild members. When he looked at Hawthorne, he raised a brow inquisitively, sensing his apparent unease, but Hawthorne only shook his head.

The usual, he mouthed, not wanting to dampen Sage's spirits any more than he already had by ruining her reunion with their resident wanderer.

Lock nodded slowly, gray eyes hooded, but he looked away from Hawthorne to address some specific question Sage had asked of him. And Hawthorne slumped down in his seat, pillowing his head on his arms again.

It wasn't only Sage he'd hurt in the past, with him being like this; but he couldn't seem to overcome it, no matter how many times Cross had tried treating him. Anything beyond cordial contact bothered him, and for the life of him he couldn't figure out why.

Well, he thought, turning his cheek against his arm to watch the guild gather around Lock, prodding for details of where he'd been what, what fantastic creatures he'd encountered this time. This is fine, for now.

And it was. For now. There might come a day when he got over himself and got close to someone, or there might not. That was for another time.

Sage forgave him, as she always did. The others forgave him. That was all that mattered.

That, and his need to remove himself from that damnable ranking. Actually, maybe he should make that his top priority, seeing as the day after the magazine's release, he tended to be notoriously absent from the guild's activities, holed up in the room he shared with Gideon - absolutely terrified of his admirers.

Yeah. Getting rid of his datable status sounded good.

If only he know how to do that.