no below || aaron + ollie.
olliecavalieri:
Though they were few and far between for Ollie, morning shifts at the theater were always a bright spot in a job that was getting somewhat boring. He wasn’t sure if the owner of the movie theater felt bad for him, though he was a good employee before he left for college, or a mix of the two. Whatever the case, when he returned to Sallybrook, it seemed a job was waiting for him. He had become used to night shifts, to the tedious tasks and slowly becoming a shift lead, slowly taking on more responsibility. He got used to training the new kids, to passing on the traditions and stories of spirits haunting the theaters. Even in high school, he had become accustomed to wishing the spirts goodnight, to keeping the superstitions alive as so many had before him.
A perk of morning shifts, however, was that the entire day was laid out in front of him. After 1pm, he was free of tearing tickets for seniors and giving them their free container of popcorn. The simple, mindnumbing job was over for the day, and he had an idea of what he wanted to do with the rest of his afternoon. His visits to the manor’s shop were few and far between. Spaced out with no real rhyme or reason to them, mostly to throw off any curious onlookers or parents, he found his footsteps taking him in that direction. Of course, he lived in the opposite direction. It seemed that even in their choice of houses, they wanted the Cavalieri as far away as possible from whatever witchcraft happened inside the walls.
And yet, Ollie resisted. Even if they were infrequent, his small stash of crystals and otherwise frowned upon items were growing larger month by month. It was a small comfort in the whirlwind that had become his life. He knew the siblings didn’t owe him anything, didn’t owe Sallybrook anything, but it was encouraging that they were still there. Even if he was too much of a coward to admit his genuine curiosity to most, they seemed to always be there when he needed an escape.
Like today. Looking both ways before daring to even set foot on the property, Ollie relaxes when he realizes the only living soul in the shop was Aaron. He was easier to talk to than Marti, though he knew they didn’t owe him any sort of warmth. To them, he might just look like another resident wanting to gawk at the local witches, though he hoped that wasn’t the case.
He wasn’t expecting Aaron to appear at his side, and certainly wasn’t expecting a bag of herbs to be pressed into his hand. A small smile appeared on his lips, and he stumbled over his words until he landed on a simple, “Thanks. It…it really does smell good.” What was he really looking for here? Was he looking for the safety that most of the townspeople craved this time of year, or something more? The question that left his lips, however, was much simpler. “Been busy today?” he asked, though it seemed to be an almost stupid question when one looked around the shop.
Despite being much more outgoing and personable than Marti was known to be, Aaron still struggled to interact with people. He was so accustomed to conversations ending with a dismissive grunt, or an “I’m fine, thanks,” just bidding him to go away and let them be, that he hardly knew how to carry one. But he didn’t see this as something frightening so much as it was an opportunity — both the conversation, and Ollie himself.
“The Harry Potter series really did us a terrible injustice,” Aaron said, a cheerful tone to his voice, “it’s not all salamander warts and frog eyes. Most of it tastes and smells pretty good — and you usually don’t ingest the gross stuff.” His mind turned to the celery seeds his mother insisted he chew during tests and grimaced, shaking the taste memory out of his mouth.
“Oh, yes. Packed.” He laughed; this time less cheerful, a little more resigned. The manor felt like a ghost town — pun unintended — most days, miserably quiet and lonesome. “But if you need a hand looking for something, or have any questions, I suppose I could pull myself away for a second.” His smile returned. Maybe Aaron was a little simple for it, but the mere presence of an interested (and interesting) person was enough to shake away the day-to-day doldrums.
“I’ve noticed you, you know,” he started, before biting his tongue — he realized it came off a little strange, but only as he was saying it, so too late to stop himself. “Not in, like. I don’t know. A creepy way? A judgemental way? I’ve just, uh. Seen you. Anyways. Developing a taste for the metaphysical? It comes with some baggage, ‘round these parts especially, but it’s really a fascinating system of belief.”
