Alma stands there, her heart filled with an emotion she can't quite pin point as she watches her children and her wife. They're laughing over Millard and Horace arguing about a book again. The air is warm and inviting as the sun beams down on the large garden behind their house. It is currently 1:37pm on September 3rd 1943. It's been this way for over 20 years after the loop was first made in haste.
The twins are sat comfortably on the warm, green grass and beside them sits Claire in her pink dress with her golden ringlets bouncing as she laughs. Bronwyn is seated a little bit behind Claire as she tries to catch her breath from her uncontained laughter. Fiona and Hugh are sat next to each other as usual beside on of the many topiaries of Fiona's own creation. They are quietly whispering to each other about the entertainment being provided to them and silently laughing to each other after each comment. Emma stands a little ways away silently chuckling to herself over the ridiculousness of the whole ordeal. Her heavy lead boots shining slightly in the sunlight. Behind her stands Enoch and Olive. Olive, ever the optimist, is laughing gently like she usually does her bright red hair billowing as she throws her head back. Enoch, to the naked eye, looks moody as usual. But if you look close enough, you see a small smile on his usually stoic face. And finally, you sit there chuckling to yourself fondly over the argument going on between two of your children. Your e/c shining in mirth and your perfect lips hold an affectionate and motherly smile. At the front, opposite the greenhouse, stands Millard and Horace. Horace, who is always composed, stands there with his index finger and thumb pinching the bridge of his nose and tapping his right foot in exasperation. And Millard stands there across from him his tweed hat bouncing as he speaks. They are both conversing, rather aggressively, over two of the characters in a book they had just read.
"They were in love!" Millard shouts with frustration evident in his voice, his hands flying outwards to express his annoyance.
"No they were not." Horace states in a clam but stern voice. "They were merely very close friends Millard and the sooner you realise this, the better" Horace points out. His hand falling from his face.
"Really? Just friends? He says to him, and I quote, 'I don't think I could live without you, my darling'. First of all, 'MY' he says 'MY darling' and he is basically saying that he loves him from this one statement alone. If we bring in the contents of the rest of the book, it is clear that they are in love." Millard states with a tone of finality.
"Miss y/l/n, you've read the book, haven't you? Do you think they were in love?" Horace asks you, desperation clear in his voice.
You look at the both of them and shake your head fondly. "Yes Horace I have read the book. However, I don't believe that there is one definitive outcome." You say gently. Both heads snap towards you, a new sense of intrigue can be seen within Horace's eyes and presumably Millard's as well. "There is no real ending to tie up the loose ends my dears. You could believe that they are both friends, or, that they are both madly in love with each other. It all comes down to a matter of preference and opinion." You explain kindly. Both boys seem to mull over the idea until coming to an agreement with your statement and nodding their heads.
"Truce?" Millard asks, holding out his unseen hand for Horace to take.
"Truce." Horace says, with a large smile on his face, taking Millard's outstretched hand and shaking it.
You sit there with a look of content on your face until your eyes drift to the front door where you see Alma leaning on the frame with a smile and a gentle look on her face. Pipe in hand with her iconic blue suited top and skirt with her hair expertly put up like usual. You lock eyes with her mesmerizing cerulean irises as she gazes lovingly into your alluring e/c ones.
You finally manage to pull away from the entrancing being that is your wife and call out to your charges, "As entertaining as this whole ordeal was, unfortunately, you all have chores to attend to my doves and we must stay punctual." An apologetic tone of fondness seeped into your voice as you spoke and only a small whine was heard from the younger ones. One by one all the children who were sat down got up and all the children went to where they were meant or wanted to be. Those who passed by you gave you a large smile, or in Enoch's case a small smile, as you yourself stand up as well. Once all the children have gone inside, with the exception of Emma, Enoch and Olive who went to the village to get some more ink, and other household equipment you'd run out of, you slowly make your way over to Alma. A soon as you do she stands fully and leans up to plant a chaste kiss to your cheek.
"How are you faring, my love?" she asks after returning down to her usual height, as you are a few inches taller than her.
"I'm quite alright my darling. How are you?" you ask with a warm smile etched on your face.
"I too, am quite content." She says softly.
You lean down to kiss her and she co-operates immediately, pulling you closer to her as if you were a figment of her imagination that she was afraid to loose. As your lips join lovingly, you feel Alma swipe her tongue across your bottom lip. You silently give your reply by opening you mouth allowing your wife's tongue to enter. Your tongues dance passionately and lovingly. And after a minute or two you both break away reluctantly. You press your foreheads together with both your eyes closed, panting from the previous lack of breath. You slowly open your eyes and see Alma's dishevelled state. Her nude lipstick is smudged slightly and her cheeks have erupted into a furious blush. You see Alma raise her heavy eyelids and once again you are trapped by her sapphire eyes gazing up at you. A pleasant and loving smile plasters itself on your face and a grin matching yours finds its way on Alma's.
"You know, we've known each other for so long and I still get giddy when you kiss me." Alma quietly whispers.
You release a small laugh whilst fixing her lipstick with your thumb and whisper back, "As do I, my love."
Both of you stand there for another minute or so until you hear Hugh yell "Miss Peregrine, Miss y/l/n, have you seen the football?" throughout the house. Both of you laugh at that and once you stop Alma turns around and walks through the doorframe she had previously been leaning on.
"Come on my love, we can't keep him waiting." She states with a smile.
You follow her through and close the door behind you. "You're right darling, Hugh gets ever so impatient." You say in amusement as you place your hand on the small of her back and walk down the hallway to locate Hugh.
Although the date will never change, nor will the weather or the ages of anyone who lives there, the inhabitants of Cairnholm never seem to get bored or lose the happiness and joy they had discovered all those years ago.
