“Did you remember the poundcake?” I ask curiously, eyeing the basket swinging along his grasp in our stroll upstream. He raises a playful brow at me.
“Would you still love me if I didn’t, Ava?” he teases, the jest of his answer telling me that he did, in fact, bring the poundcake. My favorite, along with the watercress sandwiches paired with thinly sliced meats. In our venture along the pebble shore, we would soon reach our preferred picnic spot and clink a cheers to our indulge.
“Maybe,” I retort lightly, leaning close to give him a peck on the cheek. The press of my lips gives way to the crack of an innocent smile across his face. I can’t help but internally gush at the thought. How quaint! My eyes lingering on his profile, I take notice of the slight upwards tilt of my gaze.
“You’re getting taller, Nik,” I commend.
“You think so?” he prods.
“I do,” I answer, marveling at the growing broadness of his shoulder, “and by the looks of things, stronger, too.”
“Hmmph,” he retorts, lowering his gaze in an attempt to obscure his blush, “All the more reason to carry our picnic supplies, I suppose.”
“You’re so sweet, Nik,” I praise, drawing my fingertips adoringly towards his temple, tucking the stray strand of hair sweeping past his brow. It’s ever grown longer than the rest, so it goes safely nestled behind his ear. He always forgets, and for the amount of times I've told him otherwise, he must have gone deaf now not to have remembered.
Approaching the curved angle of a branch blocking our path, Nik goes to set down the basket and begins the habitual removal of his shoes.
“Perhaps soon you’ll be strong enough to carry me across?” I prod whilst he hands them to me. Picking back up the basket, his opposing hand sets a firm hold over the branch to steady himself before crossing.
“Soon, hopefully,” he assures me as he jumps over to the stone, hopping over the water’s gentle cascade before disappearing towards the other side. I wait as he reemerges, peeking past the tree with his hands outstretched. I gingerly toss his shoes over the stream and he catches them, setting them quickly aside to hold out his hands for mine. He wouldn’t be putting his shoes back on until I had made my way across. He’s always been such a gentleman–it’s what I love about him. Motioning to slip off my heels, I give them a throw through the air as he clutches them close to his chest, attentive in his concern for a belonging of mine. Placing them meticulously upright along the shore, he steps as near to the water’s edge as he can, and holds out his palms for me.
“Alright,” he says, leaning farther close forwards for my sake, “lend me your hands.” I take a careful step across the water, planting one of my bare feet against the stone, brisk and cold to the touch. The rest of me stands awkwardly on one foot along the shore, whilst my hands hover over his. “Ready?” he asks encouragingly. With a deep breath, I nod. Bracing myself, I push off from the ground and thrust my weight swiftly towards him, his hands tightening tenderly around mine on impact. I steady my balance. Peering up at him, I realize there is close to no space left between us and I can’t help but grin. Within his hazel eyes there is a honeyed kindness, warm and sincere, that draws my face towards him in our gaze upon each other.
“I love you, Nik,” I beam.
“I love you more, Ava,” he says dreamily, before closing our eyes in exchanging a kiss.
Badumn… Badumn… Darkness still lingering within my gaze, I feel the warmth of a hand cradling my head. Hearing his heartbeat, I know I’ve felt this rhythm pressed against my ear before. It was comforting, safe–he was my sanctuary. I had often nestled my head here, relaxed in Nik’s embrace.
Wait… Nik?
My eyes pry open and my head jerks away from its resting place in a sudden scan of my surroundings.
“S-Serenity, she’s woken up,” a voice above me interjects, “please fetch the water pan.” I look up to find myself having slept over His Grace’s chest in what would appear to be the estate’s living area. He’s sitting upright along the sofa, whilst I lay beside him. I feel his hand pull away from the webs of my hair as another figure fast approaches. An exchange between hands hovers over me before I suddenly feel the cool touch of a damp washcloth.
“I’m sorry,” His Grace says consolingly, smoothing my hair back, “I’m going to try not to get your hair wet, alright?” I realize the pain in my temple has dulled, but only just. It still throbs. Attempting to hold the rag myself, I mistakenly place my hand over his. Startled, I peer up at him. “Does that feel alright, Ava?” he asks concernedly. As I part my lips to speak, however, I feel myself given reason for pause. The appearance of his face becomes familiar and I realize I had just seen him prior in my dream. I furrow my brows. It was… strange. Was it his face I had just seen, whose face I stared lovingly into before leaning in for a kiss? Was that a dream I had just had about him? Him of all people? It seemed ever so vivid, though, and what I felt for him was so oddly certain. With my sight fixed on his eyes, I wonder if it were those same shades of hazel that helped me across.
I notice his gaze softens as though self conscious as the object of my silent examination. Still studying his features, my eyes begin to draw towards a single strand of his hair. It hangs loosely past his brow… very much unlike the face of the man I had seen just a dream ago. However… My hand motions haltingly towards it in memory, remembering it always grew longer than the rest.
“This strand of your hair,” I interject softly, placing my fingertips gingerly over it, “It grows longer than the rest.” Gliding my thumb across his temple, I caress the threads of carob brown past his ear. “So it doesn’t belong with the rest, it goes tucked, here,” I whisper definitively, my fingers lingering on the curve of his ear as it becomes flushed with an innocent hue of red.
“Ava?” he yearns in seeming recognition of the gesture. Nik?
“Nik?” I ask unassuredly, my eyes narrowing as though I was only just seeing the sunrise for the first time. Our gazes lock together in a motion that feels increasingly familiar, until I remember that it is. It was the same expression of a man whose face haunted me in the wake of his parting, whose face I realized all too late had only lulled me with a promise of writing to me often in our time spent apart. It was his face who assured me would send sweet nothings to console me when he could not… but I received no such sweet nothings. All I received was nothing. My face regresses into a lovesick scowl as my mind is lured back to the memory of him confessing to me that he would have to leave soon; the memory of his heart breaking mine, merely to leave it haphazardly mended with a pledge to make good on his word only to make bad. My heartbeat hastens in shame having felt ridiculed by his lie as my blood boils in scorn for having been the fool to believe him.
“You never wrote to me!” I suddenly lash out at him whilst his brow cowers in guilt.
“Ava, I’m sorry,” he quickly exclaims.
“No, you lied!” I say, fervently shaking my head whilst age-old tears threaten to swell. “You told me you would and I waited like a fool only to receive not a word from you!” I cry out bitterly.
“Ava, I swear to you,” he coaxes desperately, bringing a hand to my cheek, “I swear to you that I tried.” His thumb caresses the corner of my eye, wiping away my waterworks.
“Not hard enough,” I mourn stubbornly, knowing as torn as I felt I still yearned for him to be the one to mend my heart. In a moment of respite during my tangent, I exhale my own shaky breath. “I missed you so much, Nik!” I blurt out. He leans his face close towards mine.
“Ava, I missed you so much more,” he laments, ever so temptingly caressing my face, “it felt as though each night was a thousand, each more endless than the last, but I didn’t lie to you. Please believe me when I say that I didn’t mean to lie to you, Ava.” Looking at him now, I know that in this particular circumstance, I believe him. However, I also know there was a time more recently that he did lie to me with a lie he so very deliberately concocted for me to indulge in.
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