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If You've of Steady Health // Yume's Contest Entry
If You’ve of Steady Health
It isn’t hard to choose an apple from the basket that lay on the counter basket. Take one, and it’s all a little bit sour and a whole lot sweet at this time of year. Wipe it off with a clean cloth, and there you go. Voila. Perfect apple. Sink your teeth in it, go ahead. But no, some people have to be difficult. “I’ve got braces, you see,” he fidgets, green eyes not quite meeting mine. “So?” she places a hand on her hip, and glares at him angrily. She’s poised to fight; who dares not eat an apple at the annual Apple Picking Party? Spots of color blotch his cheeks as she waits for his excuse. “Well – well, you know, braces. They break when you bite too hard.” “So…” she drawls and he looks up at her with a dash of hope in his eyes (Perhaps of forgiveness? Perhaps of other requited circumstances?), “You’re telling me,” – quick jab of thumb to the chest – “That you, Lord Theodore Percy, future Duke of Wellington,” – quick jab of fore finger at him, and she’s thinking, that’s right, wither in fear, little boy, you’ve got no where to go! – “Went to the Apple Picking Party knowing you couldn’t eat a single apple?!!” “It isn’t my fault!” he sputters, defiant in his anger. Freckles are cute when they’re hidden in patches of blotchy red, but now’s not the time to fawn. She sniffs aristocratically and looks away, fixing her apron over her ridiculously large and fancy dress before idly running her lace-gloved hands over the shiny machinery behind the counter. The red-brown apple cider gurgles in its vat, steaming up and fogging up her view as she inhaled in the sweet, tangy scent. The perfect apple pies were baking in the oven; the apple cobblers already finished and sitting on the counter. “It’s no use ignoring me, you know,” he says nasally and at that point she really wanted to give him a black eye the size of an apple, but she doesn’t do that. It was one of those tongue-in-cheek days, you know? Better not get any higher being feisty. The oven beeps and as she takes out the pie out and she thinks she hears him murmur, “You know, you really are quite cute like that.” She spin around, pie almost flying out of her oven-mitt-covered hands. “What?” Her eyes narrow. Did he really, or was that – “I said, ‘Watch it or the pie’ll go splat,’ God, you really are clumsy!” There is that blush on his cheeks again – “You’re really quite cute when you blush.” He stares at her. “Come again?” “I said shut up or I’ll make you hush!” She’s pretty sure she can feel her cheeks burning, so she turns away from him huffily and descends on the pies just waiting for her to pull out and cut in to perfect slices. “Are you sure—” he starts and she whirl around, knife raised, glinting in the afternoon light like something surreal. The white shirt he wears under his suit suddenly becomes painfully obvious, but she doesn’t understand why. “Yes,” she hisses like a spluttering car engine. He closes his mouth but there is unfitting determination in his eyes. “Why do you insist that we call you Lady Salisbury on Saturdays, anyways?” “Lord Theodore Percy, future Duke of Wellington, please do not ask such questions. It is beneath you.” “But – on other days, you call me Theo and I call you Addy, and you don’t mind.” “Lord Theodore Percy, your voice is atrocious, like the plebian sound of bikes splashing through dark puddles on cracked cobblestone. Please do not torture us anymore. It’ll only make this day seem longer.” “… how’s the weather nowadays, eh? Ideal for a nap?” “Why would I –” “I heard it makes the hours run faster. Just a notion, Lady Salisbury.” The air is sweet and fresh like scented linen and the only sounds in the air are those of birds and low, low snores like the soft swish of current running through a brook. The wild grass grows around them on the hill above the lake. Lord Percy is patient as always; attentive. Their breaths are slow and idle. She thinks she can feel him itching to speak and she feels the yearning as well, but she is too scared, and he is too. “I really… really quite like you,” she thinks he says, but she isn’t sure if it’s the wind talking or her own subconscious. “What did you say?” He coughs, and says, “I’d really like to go visit the zoo.” “Oh,” she breaths, as though all her frustrations over her own lack of confidence could be rolled up and let go, just like that. It doesn’t work. Lady Salisbury thinks she sees Father at the pier, Mother standing beside him with a decorative umbrella in her hand like she does every Saturday even though it’s summer and there is no rain but at that point Lady Salisbury knows it’s the light playing tricks on her because the last time Mother had dressed up wasn’t even on a Saturday. No. It was a Wednesday, and as soon as she was dressed she’d lain on flat boards and never opened her eyes again. There was only one item missing from her outfit. Only Lady Salisbury had noticed, because it she who stole the pendant Father had given Mother on Valentine’s Day. She couldn’t let it go six feet under, where the rest of her moth would lay; she couldn’t. Lady Salisbury holds up a daisy chain in her hand as an offering for the setting sun. Lord Percy steals a picture before she can reprimand him and knows without looking that it would glint dark and gold. if she stares at it long enough she could almost the see the pendant in her hand. Adel has two siblings. One is older: his name is Janel, and he likes to shake Addy’s shoulders sometimes and treats her like a boy. The other one’s name is Affinity and they are identical only after they have simultaneously taken a shower. Janel doesn’t shake Affinity so much as Addy probably because Affinity likes to wear fancy dresses and her hair long hair loose before Adel really even cared about what she looks like and whether boys fancy her or not. When it became Adel’s time to choose, there really wasn’t any other option. She just went with what was left: the opposite. “I really like you,” he says, and she turns, abruptly. Her breath is caught. “I’m sorry?” He looks at her with something fierce in his eyes and states, “You heard what I said.” The low hum of the refrigerator seems only to augment the silence before she says yes, yes, yes and leans over the counter, repeating the word like a being possessed. When they kiss, it’s more soft and accepting than exhilarating but their hearts beat fast and it’s as though something heavy has dissipated. A/N: This is a ROUGH ROUGH draft. There are so many changes I want to make to it, and lenghten it as well. (: If you find any errors or any rough parts that you think might need smoothing out, or more backstory added, any any commentary, please tell me! <33 |
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