Fairview was one of North Carolinaâ??s best hidden treasures. Those living in it described it as home, even those who moved there a week earlier. People were warm and welcoming, the community tight and small. With a population of two thousand, everything was clean and well kept, it was a paradise on earth as many said. The beach was well taken care of, yet few tourists ever came by due to a lack of real attractions. The larger cities nearby usually took a hold of everyone, leaving Fairview a well off town due to its influential farmers and the yearly fair that brought hundreds of people from around the States to the little place.
That year, the fair was especially important. Not only did the locals work for it throughout the entire year, but larger corporations and cities got involved. Over a month or so, a large site was built. A Ferris wheel, rollercoasters, food booths, contests, attractions and so forth filled up the site completely. Even a love tunnel was erected. The entire population could hardly wait for the holiday to start. Tourists occupied the bed and breakfast, a hotel opening its doors. Finally, the day came and just about everyone in town was off to the main place.
Damian Grey too was about to leave his fatherâ??s ranch to go off to the county fair. The twenty six years old man moved to the place seven years earlier â?? when he was merely seventeen, a year and a few months older than his girlfriend. At times, he loathed the countryside, dreaming of nothing but to return to the comforting sounds of the city. Cars, people, music. As years went by, however, he found himself agreeing with his fundamentalist father. Although religion still remained far from the young manâ??s priorities, the freedom gained in the small town was liberating and good for him.
The traditional values, polite conversations, it all seemed natural over all the time spent in Fairview. He grew to be quite different from the lanky, pale man he used to be â?? his skin acquired a healthy glow while his body morphed, the man gaining a good twenty pounds in muscle. He turned out to be quite a looker, every girl in the city dreaming of being his. He stood at six feet and four inches, his shoulders broad while his body was fairly toned yet lean. His messy dirty blonde hair, large bright blue eyes filled with tenderness and sincerity and the toothy bright white grin with a dimple on his left cheek were enough to inspire confidence and attraction toward him.
Another thing that set him apart from his friends was the certain refinement and the clothing style of a city boy. Unlike his friends, he dressed quite nicely. That day, he pulled on a pair of black and white classic converse shoes, a lucky brand white t-shirt with a design that clung to his muscled body and a pair of worn out jeans with a rip on the left knee. His hair was messy as it always had been, giving him a down to earth air. â??Dad, Iâ??m off,â? he called out, turning the keys around his fingers. His voice was deep and manly, holding a few husky notes from the smoking habit he picked up when he moved to the town. It was his only way to show his father he hated him for what he did to him and his beloved. While the habit was dropped, the slight resentment persisted somewhere deeply within him.
She was the only thing that mattered back then, and while years turned her into a blur memory, he knew that she was the first girl he truly loved â?? likely the only one, as well. His father forced him to break up with her, telling him that they were moving to the countryside â?? a few hundred miles away. He, meanwhile, told her that he was moving to another state, where he could get a better education. That education was more important than she was. Truth was, he never had a choice. He was a mere boy, what else could he have done at the age of seventeen? He simply figured that if she hated him, it would be easier for her to forget about him.
It didnâ??t make things any easier for him. It took over a year to get over the dreams with her, although the recovery wasnâ??t full. Another year to date a girl. Finally, last year, he met a nice girl of whom his father approved and they started a â??serious relationshipâ??. He tried to convince himself that everything was well, and overtime there was nothing but something at the back of his head telling him that something was missing. He dismissed that small voice.
Leaving the house, he jumped into the SUV his father purchased â?? a nice car, especially for a farmer. Of course his father was the most influential one around, with the ranch filled with horses and cattle, along with the few hundred acres of land. The family was so well off that he didnâ??t put his MBA to use, merely making suggestions when it came to the farmâ??s affairs from time to time. Driving off, he never stopped until he reached the fair. His Lucy was responsible for a booth that day, so all he had left to do was wander around and help her out.
â??Lucy,â? he whispered, sneaking up to her from behind. The perky blonde gasped, turning around with laughter. â??I was starting to think youâ??d never come by,â? she smiled contentedly, kissing him briefly before pulling away. â??Listen, I need you to go by the caterer, sheâ??s back at the main block,â? she explained, pointing at the building. â??Thereâ??s a bunch of people from the city working there, and weâ??re running low on the cupcakes. Theyâ??re selling like mad,â? she exclaimed, her eyes vivid with life. â??Alright, alright,â? Damian laughed, kissing her cheek before walking off.
Main block, main block, he mumbled to himself, sighing. Finally, he reached the large doors and pushed them open, facing the large stacks of food and people working. â??Hey, could anyone tell me where the caterer is? Lucy needs more cupcakes,â? he explained to the few guys he knew, receiving shrugs. â??Dunno man, but sheâ??s hot,â? the guys winked, making animal like noises.
â??Show the lady some respect,â? he shook his head, chuckling. He then moved on, trying to figure out where the cupcakes were. â??Cupcakes, cupcakes,â? he sighed, pulling every lid open.[/list:u][/list:u]
That particular August day had brought about sugary winds with the essence of cherries and freshly bake pastries. It was rather refreshing seeing as this particular woman was seldom greeted with such a comforting, clean gust. In the city everything seemed clouded with smoke and smog; the air itself wreaked of greasy cheeseburgers and rotting sewage. Vile aromas perhaps, but it was still in a sense, nostalgic and inviting for those indigenous to the city itself. Estelle, a bronze-skinned Latina fresh from Brazil, hailing of a rich though partial Hispanic lineage, was one of those indigenous. She was a kind, free spirit, inexplicably selfless and exotic. She left her busy - though monotonous - life in the city to further her career in the country for a few weeks. Sure, catering to rich business moguls was entertaining, but it wasn't exactly humbling. That being said, she thought it be best to reside in country and give a helping hand where it was needed ... free of charge, of course. Estelle required absolutely no compensation for her time. While her employers were flabbergasted, they weren't one to question as to why. Perhaps one of the most skilled chefs they had ever seen, offering to cater their little festival for free? Who were they to say no?
The curvaceous, rather tall woman hailed for a cab by waving one down with her frantic hands. A close friend of hers who had so kindly volunteered to aid her currently was in possession of her vehicle. The car came to an abrupt stop - the cab driver himself seemed quite in a hurry and overwhelmed by the country heat. With sublime elegance Estelle hopped in the back seat, securing her belongings neatly in her lap. "Where to?" the man uttered choppily, smacking away at his once peppermint flavoured chewing gum. Estelle gently cocked her head to the side and with it had went her gentle black waves. "Downtown." Her voice was downy and kind; motherly in a sense but also had a fitting regalness to it. The cab driver nodded and pulled the car out of park, veering off down the virtually empty street. Her stop was nearly ten minutes away and Estelle couldn't wait! - even with the air conditioning, the dingy yellow vehicle was stuffy.
She reached for her purse and rummaged about, producing all but one quite tattered dollar bill. Vexed, she searched again for more money, but to no avail. The cab driver immediately knew the look. Estelle fumbled for the door's lever and stumbled out of the vehicle, already being pursued by the angry cab driver. "Hey you, woman!" he sneered, the scent of peppermint faint on his rather pungent breath, "You owe me $15.67! I'll call the police if you don't pay up!" Though the situation seemed rather hopeless on her end, she still managed to maintain some diligent calmness. "I apologize but I must have left my wallet in my friend's car." Her stoic, august tone angered him further. He advanced and with clammy hands, snagged the crown of her top. Despite her height she seemed to be no match for the burly cab driver. "I said give me my fucking money." Eventually she jerked free; she reached downward into her jeans' pockets and finally managed to procure a decent amount of coin to pay the man. She dropped the crumpled bills into the driver's clammy palms, collected her tote and trekked down the street into the building where her catering service was hosted.
When she stepped inside, she was greeted with a welcoming waft of frigid air. The A.C., no doubt, and she wasn't in any stance to complain. With her glittering, emerald eyes she mapped out the room accordingly and followed the corridor into a rather large chamber. Inside were several other people, all clearly hailing from the city. They adorned baggy articles of clothing - plaid shorts, loose tees and brand-name footwear that seemed a little too expensive for their extravagant tastes and promisingly low salary. More then half of the men stopped to watch the woman with ogling eyes while she trekked over to some of the containers they sported. "Gentlemen, may I ask where the chocolate cupcakes are?" The kindness in her voice overwhelmed them. One man, a familiar face, approached, plucking a transparent, air-tight container from the neat stack. "Right here, dummy," he teased. This man was none other then Asher, a childhood friend and self-proclaimed prankster. Even know as he neared twenty-three and Estelle twenty-four, he still acted like a fourteen year old fresh out of middle school. "There's a guy out there sorting through your goodies, 'Stelle!" It was a futile attempt on Asher's part to make a sexual innuendo, "Want me to take 'em to the dude or ...?"
Estelle shook her had and plucked forth three of the large containers with relative ease and veered off, somehow maintaining her balance even supporting pounds and pounds of chocolate pastries. She took note of one man - a rather tall gentleman at that - rummaging through containers without spoils to call his own. She approached the man from behind and ever so gentle tapped him on his broad shoulders. There was something about the shade of his shaggy, dirty blond hair that had stricken a nostalgic nerve, though she disdained the sensation for the time being. "Excuse me, sir. Are these what you were looking for?" [/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u]
Damian fumbled through the things, a low sigh escaping his lips. Every year for already close to ten years he had taken part in the fairâ??s activities and knew the place inside out, yet the only year during which he was too busy to sign up â?? the season turned out to be extremely good for the farmers, thus the cheerful attitude of the crowd â?? everything was shifted about and a complete mess from his perspective. The new faces were something he welcomed; similarly to his Estelle he was a peopleâ??s person, never asking for anything and always working with a smile. At times, it caused him to wonder if Estelle truly believed his excuse for the close to cruel breakup.
He shifted yet another lid, growing more and more exasperated by the second. He felt like he was sent on a wild goose chase. Suddenly, he heard a voice. He could never forget that voice â?? so sweet and warm. Shaking off the illusion, he realized that it was someone else addressing him. His fingers ran through his hair, showing the fact that he has spent quite a few years in the country â?? while his nails and hands were taken care of, they were calloused and held faint traces of dirt under his nails, from work earlier that morning.
Slowly, he turned around, the same boyish, toothy smile playing on his lips. He looked too innocent to hurt a fly, his expression open and warm although it gained something it didnâ??t have years ago â?? maturity, and something even beyond that, that look in his eyes was that of a person who suffered. It wasnâ??t just Estelle, his mother passed away three years after the move, and the two things combined gave him a very hard time.
His eyes first landed upon the cupcakes, the man nodding eagerly. His gaze meanwhile made its way over the womanâ??s body yet politely retreated. He wasnâ??t like the other men. Throughout their relationship, he remained faithful to Lucy; so much that the entire community including his family and hers thought that they would surely end up married in a year or so. A few of them pressured him â?? at twenty six and single?
However, as his gaze returned upward, the man froze for a second. It was her, the girl he proclaimed the love of his life without her knowing he did so. He tilted his head, for a moment love and affection filling the bright sky blue orbs of his. He then shook his head, smiling politely. Perhaps she wouldnâ??t know who he was, perhaps she was married already â?? what they had years ago was nothing but a childish affair after all.
â??Estelle?â? He tilted his head, his eyes traveling over her face. His voice was hushed, yet there was both excitement and fear in them. Fear that he would do something awful, that she still hadnâ??t forgiven him.
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After Damian departed all of those years ago, Estelle was left to the otherwise dark quarters of her mind. She wallowed in speculations; the 'what ifs' and 'whys'. Her brother was furious, seeing as he was her only guardian at the time. He thought threatening to chase Damian down and snap his neck would somehow ebb the emotion affliction she bore, but it seemed to only make things worse. However, her brother was pleased to note that after time she gradually returned to her regular self rather then resort to the comforting embrace of drugs, sex and alcohol. She stayed in school and maintained superb marks, received a rather prestigious culinary internship all while living the philosophy thing would gradually get better.
Though this was true in more ways then one, she feared the image of Damian was forever branded in her mind. She often laid down at night and reminisced on the time they shared together, even when she became romantically involved with Emilio Law, the outlandishly handsome Australian gentlemen from Boston. She met him at a football game after a man refused to move from the seat which the ticket clearly stated was her own. Chivalrous mister Law intervened and it was from there, their romance blossomed. They shared exotic whipped coffee at Starbucks and chilly autumn evenings inside his nomadic little hovel in Maine. It was when Emilio had to return to Australia due to financial issues that Estelle lost interest in him. Even now he called her, pleading for her attention, making false promises and claiming that he'd return, but Estelle completely disregarded him.
However, despite all of Damian's thoughts, Estelle realized all too well who he was. He had aged ... aged so majestically. His eyes, tempest oceanic marbles littered with flecks of raw light, his mane, roguish and untamed. He had grown into his frame superbly. Strong and broad. His calloused hands told her stories of his country-side exploits, stories she wished to hear him tell to her personally. "Damian." Oh how she had been wanting to say that name for so long. She stood and stared at him long and hard, drinking in the changes the years had wrought. While his eyes were host to partial fear, hers birthed regalness and casualty. She addressed the man with her trademark vulpine elegance and welcomed him in a full-body embrace. He wreaked of fresh pine and churned must, just like the country. "I'm so ... unremarkably lucky to have found you here. I've been thinking about you lately, odd how things work out."[/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u]
That embrace was at the same time welcome and unwanted. It made him feel as though the past few years had been a blurry nightmare, that they were still together and that he was still the seventeen years old kid he used to be. It was at the same time astounding and horrifying how much he loved her. Back when he was a teenager people told him that it was just a childish infatuation, that she would be nothing but a pleasant memory. That never happened. The cut was still bleeding, despite his attempts to stuff it with someone else. He stepped back and smiled weakly, brushing his fingers through his hair as he always did when nervous. Her detached air was impossibly hard to take. She acted indifferent, and he most likely would have preferred to have her scream and thrash than display indifference. Perhaps what they said had been true for her. After all, she was very young when their relationship ended.
He studied her in silence for a few moments, seemingly lost in another dimension. She was breathtakingly beautiful. While his Lucy was a simple minded, perky blonde with an annual ribbon for her pie, this woman was so much more. She was an ambulant mystery, down to earth yet sexy, she encompassed everything he wanted. He shook his head, letting out a sigh. He couldnâ??t do it to Lucy, and he lost his right to say anything to the woman before him years ago. â??Odd indeed,â? he replied, his voice almost choked with the first word. He glanced at the cupcakes again, softly taking him away from her, the soft fingertips grazing her hands. His gaze remained centered on hers, yet flailed away when he felt that warm, silky skin.
â??Iâ??ll have to steal this from you,â? he smiled awkwardly, not quite sure what to do. Were they supposed to reminisce old memories, or did he have to tell her something else? Explain how, when he claimed to be leaving to a metropolis he ended up by the countryside? He inhaled slowly, once again letting his eyes liner on that perfect face, subtly trailing over her body. They had all the firsts together, and he used to feel like he knew her inside out. Now, however, she was someone else. He tried to find comfort in that thought, although didnâ??t come to do so. In his mind, he figured that he was nothing but another man by that point. Certainly, he was handsome and such, yet there were many men surrounding her in the city and she surely was at least engaged. â??Youâ??ve changed,â? he simply offered, his voice warm and affectionate. â??Iâ?¦Iâ??m sorry. You are the last person I was expecting to see,â? he let out with an apologetic chuckle, pressing his palm to his forehead with an air of exasperation. â??How have you been?â? He finally asked.
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An awkward air made the room almost stagnant. Estelle believed their meeting after all of these years would be natural and that the chemistry they once shared would make conversation smooth and casual, but clearly she thought wrong. In fact, she felt almost unwanted by the behemoth of a man. While this was understandable, it dulled Estelle's evanescent glow. She felt belittled by his coyness. The last person he was expecting to see? What precisely did that mean? The regal woman went from stoic to slightly disturbed. She felt the sudden need to excuse herself, or at least shy away from this man she was once madly in love with.
"And so have you," she retorted kindly, doing her best to mask her repulsion, "It's alright, Damian. You know there's no need to put on a front around me. I realize you're probably busy, so I won't keep you." So much for time healing all wounds.
She turned and addressed a neat stack of cupcakes, all of which being sealed away in tight, air-locked containers. She curled her fingers around the smooth, plastic trim and offered the remainder of the sweet little cakes to him with a smile slathered in cordiality. To be frank, Estelle hadn't doted much on the situation. Why was he in the country? Was he not still in school, striving for his 'perfect education'? A man with his credentials should be a lawyer, a doctor or some big-shot business mogul, not a farmhand manning a cupcake kiosk. All of those things hadn't quite crossed her yet, but no doubt they would seep in later on.
Aside from that, Estelle was no home-wrecker. He was probably engaged to some sugarcoated country gal that came equipped with a fancy, hard-to-turn-down dowry. Before the two could confer any longer, Asher, Estelle's over-grown, auburn haired assistant intervened. The whole time he had been watching the pair with a jealous leer. Everyone who knew Asher knew he had a crush the size of Texas on Estelle, and seeing her make goo-goo eyes at this country boy made his heart burn ardent with envy. "Do you need help? he questioned. He eyed Damian, with disgust at first, hoping to dismiss him. "You're needed in the kitchen. There's been a bit of a mishap ... Ben and Cash thought it would be fun to get into a flour fight."
"Of course they did. I'll deal with that immediately. Well, Damian, it was very nice seeing you again," she meant extremely nice, "I need to go deal with my boys. If you can't find what you're looking for, Asher will be more then happy to assist you." Asher lobbed Damian an almost challenging sneer, grinning like the Cheshire Cat in all of his feline glory. "Yes. I'd be more then happy to."[/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u]
{ Sorry, I assumed that she left. I hope that's okay, if not, I'll edit. }
She could have tried all she wanted to in order to hide the repulsion, yet he knew her too well not to notice. It shattered her heart, almost like leaving her had one day. It was when he noticed her eagerness to leave her that he realized that he still loved her. Nodding briefly, he sighed. â??Yeah,â? he whispered softly, the white teeth gliding along his lower lip. â??Iâ??m sorry for keeping you busy, Iâ??ll see you around,â? he stepped back, looking away from her. The toothy grin from earlier on, the light hearted air, all of it seemed to have disappeared, replaced by a pain that was hard to disguise. He glanced up at her one last time, convinced that following their brief encounter she would do nothing to find him again and he simply couldnâ??t ask her to come see him â?? he couldnâ??t do that to Lucy.
On the other hand, he told himself, leading a heated internal debate, he couldnâ??t seem completely impolite. The rationalizing was ridiculous, leading just about nowhere. Suddenly, the small comparing to Damian assistant of Estelleâ??s intervened. Damian had a good three inches of advantage over him in height, yet a lot more in terms of muscle. If one thing has changed over the years, it was the maleâ??s strength. While in the past he was prone to occasional outburst of anger, ones he never took out on Estelle, he was unable to do much to anyone. Certainly, he was tall enough before, yet his lack of muscle was the main reason he could only play basketball, shying away from the football team. The years of physical hard labor however made those bouts of rage quite dangerous. Of course with power came responsibility, so he learnt to control them, yet he was a sensitive young man and Estelle made him lose control over himself. Asher caused his blood to boil, his free hand clenching into a fist so hard that his knuckles turned white.
He gave Asher a menacing, cold stare, the type that caused the roomâ??s temperature to drop by a few degrees. His innocent, completely docile air was momentarily replaced by something so terrifying that most men would find a reason to move back. Suddenly, looking at Asher, he realized that he couldnâ??t lose her again. It didnâ??t matter if she wasnâ??t his the way she had been in the past, he needed Estelle more than he needed air. Her sudden appearance at the county fair caused him to remember it, making him feel as though he lived underwater for years.
Turning away from Asher, he ran up to her from behind, gently grabbing her tiny wrist. â??Wait, Estelle,â? he murmured, leaning down to let his lips level her ears. â??I want to see you again. I am asking for more than Iâ??m allowed to, but please meet me next to the Ferris wheel at four. Iâ??ll be waiting until five. Donâ??t say anything now,â? he finished and stepped away, leaving as hastily as he appeared. He went on with his day from there on, doing as promised at four.
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For the remainder of the afternoon Estelle seemed launched into some estranged state of disarray. She was unusually quiet, as her co-workers had noted, and had even been clumsy enough as to smash two perfectly good mixing bowls. This was unlike her. Usually she was so elegant and so flawless, but over a series of three hours that all seemed to change dramatically. As for Asher, he paraded around like a gorilla which his chest puffed out and muscles flex to a point where it was nearly agonizing. He feared that virtually every mildly attractive man that addressed Estelle could be a possibly threat. It was one 3:45 approached that she had completely disappeared.
Outdoors, the Brazilian woman found herself enthralled with the ever so ginger aroma of lilacs and funnel cakes that wafted about the fervent summer air. While traveling down the shrouded boardwalk path, she watched the hues of pumpkin and pomegranate that forged the horizon. It ebbed her spirit, made her feel at peace with herself ... for the time being, that was. She clutched her leopard-print hand-bag close to her plump bosom with each step she procured. The ferris wheel laid high on the horizon, bolted to a hill-side near the bluffs.
She traveled up the face of the hill, passing content couples and sweet little families along the way. Before proceeded she leered wantonly at the broad, burning sky. There was not a cloud to be had; the sun was like a disco ball, burning gold and ardent, casting a dying veil of low light over the countryside. Her hair spilled over her broad shoulders, framing her breasts and her curvaceous, healthy frame. Finally, she braved the hill, approaching a copse of blueberry bushes that lined the foot of the massive festival ride. There stood Damian, majestic and rugged in all of his calloused glory. She cantered in, slowly, watching him, awaiting his explanation.[/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u]
The rest of the day was a whirlwind for the young man. He juggled between his obligations to his girlfriend while doing everything to avoid her. For some reason, he could hardly look her in the eyes. It wasnâ??t because he intended on cheating on her, but because he felt that he was already cheating on her as it was. He loved someone else with all his might, could there have been treason worse than that? He watched her from the corner of his eyes, trying to figure out what to do. The other part of the day consisted of him trying to figure out what to say, what excuse to give her for his request. His impulsive action was completely mindless, he simply wanted to spend another day with her yet there was no way to say it right without seeming to be an awful person.
Finally, he found himself next to the Ferris wheel, trying to find that familiar silhouette. The reason he chose the Ferris wheel as the point of their encounter was the hill next to it. Few knew of a spot next to the hill, and he claimed it as his. He never shared it with Lucy, perhaps because a part of him hoped that he would come to share it with his Estelle one day. Finally, almost glowing in contrast with the rest of the crowd, she emerged. In silence, he walked up to her, taking her by the hand with a coy air to drag her along behind the hill. It was a few minutesâ?? walk, yet the sight it offered was mind blowing. A river was not too far with a small fall, mountains, flowers, a dazzling sky, everything came together to form a perfectly balanced picture.
Finally, he came to a halt, releasing her hand to take a seat on the hill. â??Come here,â? he said brightly, patting a spot next to him. â??Iâ??m sorryâ?¦,â? he started, shaking her head with an awkward, almost timid laughter. â??I seem to be saying that an awful lot today, hm?â? He glanced at her, sighing. â??I couldnâ??t let you leave like that. The way I actedâ?¦I didnâ??t mean to do that. I just didnâ??t know what to do with you appearing out of nowhere,â? he explained. â??There were all these people and so many things I wanted to tell, that I just blanked out,â? he chuckled, a boyish grin spreading across his lips. â??Can we talk? About everything, or if you want we can stay silent, just stay with me for a bit. I sound pathetic, donâ??t I?â? He wondered, chuckling.
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It was that same boyish grin that Estelle fell in love with all of those years ago. She found herself almost subliminally following his commands. Even at his behest she took a seat along side the giant men, enraptured by his warmth. The pair were partially ensconced amongst the blueberry copses, wrapped taught in the natural aromas of the refreshing sea air and tart berry smells. "Damian, you don't sound ... pathetic, stop questioning yourself." Estelle let forth a nourishing breath, released the tension on her spine and sat comfortably limp within the arms of the bench. She placed her manicured paws on the plain of her toned thighs, giving Damian the entirety of her attention. Her jade eyes sparkled dully in the low even-tide light, casting golden flecks into her slender, blithe opticals. She placed her hand on his broad shoulders almost reassuringly, taking note of the tightly woven muscles that consumed his bone. He was built like a mountain, carved from diamond ... though despite the physical attraction she always felt towards him, she addressed the blond-haired man as a friend rather then a lover.
"Of course we can talk. But first I want you to know I haven't come here to impose on the life you've made for yourself here." She let her hand fall from his shoulder and let it rest in her lap. "I ... have no questions for you. I was at peace with your decisions years ago and I certainly don't wish to reopen old wounds. So if you feel the need to explain yourself, don't. I'm a firm believer that everything happens for a reason, you know that."
Despite the fact that she thought that she was making things easier for him, she was only making it that much harder. He was ready to throw away just about anything for her, to start from a blank page, yet there she was, talking to him as though they were friends, telling him that she was at peace with his decision years ago. Those words crushed the tall man in a way nobodyâ??s fist ever could. â??Of course,â? he whispered weakly, his teeth dragging along his teeth slowly. He should have realized it, she had moved on. Of course, he gave her closure he has never gotten in a way â?? when he left, he informed her that things were over, even offered her a reason. He, meanwhile, was left wondering whether she still thought of him or not. â??No wound opening,â? he finally nodded with a smile. If he couldnâ??t have her as a lover, he would have to settle with her being a friend, he decided.
â??Youâ??re not imposing though, Estelle. Iâ??m glad to see you, honestly. The thought of never seeing you again was much harder,â? he shook his head. â??Dear god, Iâ??m not even allowed to say that, am I?â? He laughed, studying the beautiful scenery in front of them in a feeble attempt to look away from that perfect face and the perfect curves hidden under the clothes. â??I wanted to know if we could beâ?¦friends," he said, sounding choked at the last word. "Ask you how you have been. Itâ??s been almost ten years,â? he stated, looking her over, unable to resist.
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Of course she thought of him. Every night, even when she was with Emilio she thought of him. At first his image was rather tiny, but lately, before she came to the country, it had been explosive. It irked her to no end; haunted her when she slept, to a point where she could no longer cope ended up being corroded by the thought of his being by her side. If he had grown up with her, seen her blossom into an exotic young woman, he would see her as a woman that didn't love easily. In fact after parting ways with Damian she found herself incapable of sustaining healthy relationships. She didn't enjoy them, so, she veered away from them and buried herself in cooking and art. But ... here she was ... back along side of Damian once more.
"Of course we could be friends," she breathed gently, taking note of the difficulty he had expressing his feelings. Was her casual facade too overwhelming? It was a natural suit for her, now, and she could not help it. "I've been absolutely fine." Of course she was sugar-coating it just a smidgen. "You haven't missed much over the years ... gang violence increased, my brother got involved ... ended up in the hospital for a while. He just got out of rehab a few weeks ago. Mom died a few years ago, took her own life because she couldn't take dad not being around. And him? Out east, somewhere, probably lying dead in the trenches." Casual. She breathed those words so casually, it was almost sickening. Of course during the epicenter of these events she had been a wreck, but they had all happened years ago.
"I realize I just said that ... in a really nonchalant tone. I need to stop doing that." She swiped her manicured hand over her pretty visage, flattening her hair against her skull. "And yourself?"
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The young man listened to her words in silence, his expression growing increasingly dark. All of those things have happened to her and he was nowhere near to be seen. He launched into an inward train of self-loathing, frustrated by his inability to change anything in the past. The poor little girl had to go through so much. He suddenly understood the reason for her coldness and had to fight an irresistible urge to hold her close. She must have had nobody to speak to over all those years, nobody to help her off the ground. Her cold, nonchalant tone could have fooled anyone, yet he didnâ??t buy it for as much as a split second. Finally, unable to resist any further, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her toward him for a second, kissing her forehead.
â??God, Estelleâ?¦Iâ??m so sorry,â? he whispered before releasing her with a light blush. â??I wish I could have been there,â? he mumbled, shrugging at her question. â??Iâ?¦back then, I wasnâ??t leaving to study. Dad decided to go to the countryside, buy a farm, and raise horsesâ?¦I did get my MBA of course, but it hasnâ??t been of much use,â? he smiled. â??Mom died a few years back, her and pop got into an accident. Heâ??s canâ??t walk, but heâ??s good,â? he explained, a slight southern drawl mixing in with his usual Australian accent. It was quite an odd mixture, yet surprisingly sexy at that. He then realized that nowhere in the lines did he mention his girlfriend. â??Iâ??ve a gal, too,â? he finally added, not seeming enthusiastic at all no matter how much he tried to.
He fell silent for a few moments, watching her hair caressed by the wind. Suddenly, a tiny twig got caught in her hair, causing him to smile. His fingers slid over her hair, picking up the piece of a stick. â??I canâ??t believe how beautiful and strong you are,â? he stated with admiration in his voice, all of it clearly genuine. â??Do you want to talk about things? Youâ??ve always been so stubborn, probably holding strong, not telling anyone how you felt. It ainâ??t good, lady,â? he smiled, the southern part of him taking over, adding him a new charm.
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"It was better that I went through it alone. That grief made me stronger, and if tragedy finds me again, I will be able to battle it head-on this time around." Each pronounced cadence she uttered was muffled by his top. She wanted badly to return his embraced though mid-thought she became cognizant of the results. It was best to leave this hug one-sided, as not to forge false emotion once more, or further stir up old desires. As Damien withdrew, Estelle returned to her originally position on the wooden bench. She sat with her spine relaxed though somehow still maintained a decent, upright posture. Her jade-colored eyes swirled, tempest, as he revisited his past.
So his mother had passed? She was such a kind woman, welcoming of Estelle from the beginning. Over time his father eventually accepted Estelle though at the beginning of their relationship he wasn't so fond of his son dating a woman from South America. It irked him as he predicted they would get married sometime in the near future and his grandchildren would hail of partial Latin decent. But, over a period of time he came to terms with this and grew mellow. He became so fond of Estelle that he even began pestering his son, asking if she were to visit for dinner.
"You never seemed very fond of the city. I know I've long since lost interest in it. In fact, I planned on moving to Brazil after this entire endeavor has been said and done with. I miss the tropical climate and the charming little villages. Though my family has probably disowned me by now - I know they did when my mother married an American man - but ... times have long since changed and I only hope they'll be willing to see things differently." Her eyes caught wind of his fingers as they had so skillfully removed the tiny twig from the mangled mess of her lion's mane. She laughed silently to herself, recalling a similar event in the city park a few years back when Damian had done the exact same thing. At the mention of a woman, she paused. It was only to be expected, after all, and though it was a bit of a surprise, she knew that he was happy. "That's amazing. I'd love to meet this lovely lady if you'd let me. She's lucky."
After all, she had been brought here by face to help close this unended chapter left open when she was younger. She now had closure. "Flattery will get you know where, Damian," she jested, pure playfulness in her honey-based tone, "I told you, I came to terms with everything years ago. There's really nothing to talk about; it's all the past and has already been left to the hands of fate. I admit, stubborn I may be, but for good reason." She cracked a ginger grin. "Enough about my feelings, let's talk about something else, like this cutesy little country twang you've adopted. An Australian native speaking in a western tongue? It's quite befitting. I like it."[/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u]
The male listened to his old flame in silence, drinking in every word yet never responding. He was a good listener, or so he was told. In truth, however, despite the fact that he did quite a swell job listening to people, this case was different. He wanted desperately to tell her something that would change her mind, to make her fall in love with him all over again and make the pain disappear. It was a fleeting thought, yet when he caught it, Damian was overwhelmed with fear once again. And so, he remained silent, letting her think what she chose to. It wasnâ??t his place to try to talk sense into her. He mused about the situation, deciding that she probably was surrounded by men or at least faithful friends, there to help her through.
Oh, how he hated it nonetheless. â??I have been fond of the city. I did everything to get him to let me stay," he shrugged in lassitude. â??There was yelling, breaking things, Iâ??ve even tried puppy eyes,â? he laughed with a sense of regret and nostalgia. â??But that doesnâ??t matter anymore, I suppose. Whatâ??s doneâ??s done,â? he bit on his lower lip, watching over her with his coy grin. â??I really did miss you though,â? he pointed out, brushing his fingers through his hair. She could probably see right through him then, he hadnâ??t changed much. His mannerisms, nervous tics, it was all the same as it had been in the past.
The young man with an MBA, excellent public speaking skills was unable to sustain a conversation with her without feeling like a teenage boy on his way to pick up his prom date. She made his heart beat, yet made him comfortable. Perfection; she was the epitome of it in his eyes. Lucy, Lucy, he repeated in his head, his good nature preventing him from forgetting about the blonde perky Miss American Pie. What an excellent wife sheâ??d make, yet not for him, he realized. Of course he had never been rash in his decisions, taking time to evaluate him. Estelle had been the sole exception.
â??Flattery?â? He arched his eyebrows, â??why I would never!â? He continued, grinning. No, it wasnâ??t flattery. He meant every word of it. Playing back his ex-girlfriendâ??s words about Lucy, he shrugged. â??I guess so,â? he replied with a sense of exasperation. He wished she wasnâ??t so stoic and cold, she was like a turtle hiding in its shell. And until she left the shell, he had no idea what in the world was going on in that pretty head of hers. â??Brazil, hm? America is losing a fine citizen,â? he grinned playfully, studying her.
He fell silent for a moment, temporarily refusing to acknowledge her comment. Everything was scattered in his mind, almost surreal. She was there, so close yet further than ever. From the way she looked at him, the way she talked and acted, he realized that to her he was a closed cut, one to never open again. His feelings meanwhile were like sunflowers â?? she was the sun that had been gone for years, causing them to grow tired and hopeless, yet once the sun appeared yet again they spurted like never before. â??A western tongue? I donâ??t see what youâ??re talking about,â? he chuckled playfully, shaking his head. â??Lifeâ??s such a weird thing,â? he pointed out, glancing at the clock. He had all the time in the world, or so he hoped. Lost in thoughts, he hadnâ??t realized that his head was turned to face the girl before him, the clearly affectionate, loving gaze staring straight into her eyes.
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Often Estelle kept to herself because it was what she was taught. After being subjected to the world without Damian, and finally learning what it was truly like to be alone, she adopted a 'hard' facade that got her through the long, perilous, lonely days. Temporarily she abandoned this facade and gained companions, all of which were male save for her butch female cousin Shylock who had an affinity for tattoos and piercings and this fiery red-head, Audrey, who declined Estelle's invitation to help her cater the festival in the country. Even then, these new friends, which were all outlandishly unique in their own special ways, took note of her odd speaking patterns.
For those who knew Estelle well they knew her first language was Portuguese. She was raised in a Brazilian household; her mother and father often fought over which language should be her first, but Estelle's mother being the wily spirit she was, won, and had so deemed her daughter would learn Portuguese. After being forced to move to the Americas her father, and mother, then taught her English. Needless to say she had a knack for it and became beguiled with poetry and philosophy. Her unfailing politeness and proper usage of the English language gained her many friends and many, many job offers.
This stoic mask Estelle had professionally forged was melting away in the boyish warmth Damian emitted. It would be useless after some time, certainly if she continued to spend time to him. She was enraptured by the depth of his voice and the scent of his skin. Even now she knew she would not always be able to remain strong and unmoved around him. It was him and always only him that made her weak in the knees and had her heart beating like an out-of-sync African drum. The playfulness the pair exhibited was, on the outside, sugar-coated and content, but on the inside it was agonized and strained. Would she always feel this awkward around him? She did her best not to showcase it but she could only do so for so long.
It were his eyes that captured her, entranced her, made her feel useless, guileless. She was attracted to him in all possible ways. His personality, his body, his everything. This fatal attraction would bring on nothing but complications in the future, but Estelle was known to 'live in the moment' and she used this as an excuse. "I ... Damian, I missed you too." She bared no shame admitting it, only relief. " I missed you so much. Don't think, that because of how I act and how I speak, that I never thought of you, that I never recalled our time together or reminisced on it."[/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u]
Damianâ??s gaze never faltered, remaining fixated on her bright, emerald orbs. They mesmerized him, lured him in toward the point of no return â?? if he hadnâ??t reached it yet, of course. Throughout the years, the vivid intelligence remained in those beautiful eyes, yet they acquired something deep, a sense of melancholy and suffering, a maturity that only a person to live through pain could bear. The eternal flame of love and passion for life fought to resume its existence, yet the fight was coming to an end, it appeared. It didnâ??t repulse him, however, nor did it make him feel the slightest awkwardness. He was comfortable with her, more so than anyone else. The sole source of discomfort was his inability to pull her closer to him, to kiss those sweet, full lips and caress that smooth, childlike skin for an invisible wall â?? their pasts, their present- seemed to separate the two young people. The wall didnâ??t prevent him from longing to light the fire again, bring back sincere happiness and shatter the illusion of coldness.
It suddenly occurred to him that life was unfair. He loved her, yet he couldnâ??t have her, despite the fact that he was certain she could come to love him again. For the first time in years he cursed his father, wishing he had done something differently. The old man loved Estelle; he appreciated her despite her blood. That wasnâ??t enough. After they left, he told his son that as much as he liked the woman, she would have to bear someone elseâ??s children for his grandchildren would remain the blonde, blue eyed creatures the members of their family were. Hypocritical bastard, Damian shouted at the time yet came to live with his fatherâ??s decision. The memories began to fade and his search for flaws in the woman resumed until he found a few, or so he thought. Now that he was sitting by her side, he realized that every single bad memory he clung on to was a fruit of his imagination.
â??Iâ??m glad,â? he replied quietly, flashing another smile. A hand came up to cup her cheek, his fingers loosely intertwining with the thick lionâ??s mane. â??Youâ??re a tough cookie, lass,â? he murmured affectionately, his newly acquired expressions entering his language. It was odd how he transformed depending on the person he spoke to â?? with Lucy, he was a stranger to himself speaking in a local dialect; with strangers, he was a polite Australian male with a refined vocabulary; with Estelle, he was himself. â??Hey, that guy who works with youâ?¦I donâ??t like him,â? he stated possessively, turning into that Damian she used to know. He was the type of guy who seemed nonchalant, and almost uncaring until someone eyed his woman. Then, his jealousy flared, and his attempts to hide it translated into a bitter comment regarding the man. â??Are you seeing anyone?â? He suddenly wondered, his hand sliding along her cheek to return to his lap.
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"Asher? He's absolutely harmless. A bit of a fool but he's kind and generous." She did her best to sooth Damian's jealous tendencies but she knew it would do pretty much no good. He always exhibited that same protectiveness over her. Of course, he had reason to. But Asher? Really, he was as gentle as a mouse. Often more then not he tried to court Estelle but she had denied him at every pass. If she hadn't hosted such a burning desire for Damian, she would have fallen hard for Asher. Before her trip to the country she was prepared to give up on Damian once and for all; she was practically ready to submit to Asher's non-stop flirting, but then she found Damian, and all of that suddenly changed.
Just before Damian withdrew his hand, Estelle ever so lightly gripped his wrist, virtually prying it from her pert cheekbones as if to say to him that their touching in such an adoring manner was now forbidden. "I'm not. I have no interest in a relationship. My cousin Shylock - I'm sure you remember her - told me I was doomed from the start. She never took me as a 'relationship person'. Truth be told I don't think I'm much of a relationship person either. She's always chiding me to not take my work seriously but it can't be helped ... what can I say, I love cooking." She heaved a shrug, followed by a chuckle, though her happiness was interrupted by a familiar cry.
"Estelle~" Asher chimed. It seemed as if he had combed through the entire park in search of her, and finding his potential-girlfriend-to-be with this pretty country boy made his blood boil. All of that hard work he'd put in over the years would inevitably amount to nothing. He watched Damian first, eying him, then redirecting his view to Estelle. "Hey ... I was supposed to come tell you that you're off the clock. The flame-eaters are putting on a show in about 30 minutes and I thought you'd maybe want to come watch it with me."[/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u]
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