Porcelain Face

~18~

The forest's treeline was crisp against the open field, wooden posts and its banners flying in the gentle breeze giving the atmosphere a summer nostalgia. The MoonWood Festival had a smaller turn out than Alfred had anticipated beforehand. Then again, the population of this town was minuscule. 

The two "friends" took their leisurely time wandering from stall to stall, eyeing knickknacks and such that had Northwest written all over it. Stereotypical pine tree shirts that scrawled the city name proudly, an assortment of salmon and trout keychains, and a shelf of stuffed animals that were of any temperate forest biome. Sweet hickory and amiable hints of honey dreamily traveled through the air and into Alfred's nostrils. He could recognize the smell of a cook out from a mile away. He would have gone tearing through the crowd to get first in line for a plate of juicy baby back ribs...if it weren't for his Belarusian friend squeezing tight to his hand...

"Are you scared of getting lost in the crowd? You know you don't have to-". He let his sentence drift away as she looked up at him pleadingly. He pushed out an irritated sigh and let her be. Perhaps he wouldn't call it irritation...more or less an overwhelming sensation of butterflies in his stomach. He couldn't just pinpoint why this suddenly made him feel so, but her elegant tiny hand in his larger one...made him strangely content. He was scared of this new sensation...but he somehow embraced it with semi-open arms. 

"Alfred, what's that?!" she tugged at his hand, pointing almost childishly off at something. He turned his attention to her gaze. About almost 30 or so feet away, was a rather sizable wooden platform atop the grass. It was surrounded by an assemblage of greenery and tulips of all sorts of colors. String lights that glowed a basil dim yellow were hung over across the platform and hooked into nearby trees. On this platform, were many types of folk, dancing in pairs, kicking their shiny boots and heels to the beat of a fiddler's old glossy violin. 

"Hmm...look's like some kinda hoedown?" he speculated. The thing he hoped wouldn't happen, had happened, as she tugged at him. "Let us join in this 'hoedown' dance!". Her strong tingly accent made her all the more cute, as Alfred could have sworn he felt his cheeks set ablaze. Cute?! Now he was truly being ridiculous. He can't find Natalya cute, he had told that to himself before. Yet here he was being proven wrong, the tiny Belarusian going completely ballistic over things he considered normal and simple in his country. 

"Oh uhm uh...". He couldn't go dancing. He knew he couldn't. For one, you couldn't just free style your way through a hoedown. You needed to real have the kick in your boots for it, and you couldn't mess up or you and your partner would come tumbling down. But was that really the reason he didn't want to go up there with her? Was it perhaps because...he would melt at the sight of her under those firefly lights and amongst the budding tulips and shrubbery, like a goddess of nature. "I'm...I'm actually hoping to go grab something from the barbecue first". The excuse was fast paced, but it made logical sense as he was a presentable glutton. 

"Da, I see. I suppose I should try indulge in your uhm...cook out delicacies. He blew a breath of relief as the two made their way to the spiraling line of people that was moving rather painfully slow. As they stood in line, he could clearly see that the holdup was because of some poor teenager at the mercy of a grill. He was fumbling with paper plates and bumping into other volunteers. He dropped burger patties and burnt sausages clumsily. 

"Ah man, this guy is givin' BBQ a bad name!" Alfred whined, hands on hips almost instantly. "Sorry Nat maybe we s-". It had only been 30 minutes in and he had lost her. "Hey Nat?! Nat!" he called over the heads of irritated people. He felt strangely panicked losing her. He knew she could take care of herself, but he couldn't help but panic. He had to reason with himself. This was a small crowd, and she couldn't have gotten far.