1923 [H.S]

part 3

July 21st, 1923

"If you could domesticate any animal and keep it as a pet, which one would you choose?"

You pause for a few seconds, deliberating over your answer.

"An elephant," you reply at last, drumming your fingers against the stone bannister.

"Really?" Lydia bounces on the balls of her feet. "Why?"

"They're gentle beasts," you say, shrugging. "Intelligent, too."

"I suppose that's true," she says. "I would want a tiger. Or a unicorn!"

"Unicorns aren't real, Dee."

"But if they were...," she trails off, shooting you a clever smile. You nod and chuckle quietly in assent.

You place your elbows on the railing and lean forward, studying the smooth driveway and the crisp, green lawn. Fluffy white clouds dot the cerulean sky, and a warm breeze blows through the thin fabric of your skirt. These past few days have brought an abundance of beautiful weather. You yearn to properly enjoy the sunshine, but alas—

Despite your best efforts, a small part of you is acutely conscious of the fact that Harry is standing only twenty feet away.

He's been watering that same plant for about ten minutes, you think. He started at the opposite end of the house, slowly making his way across the width of the long porch and tending to the potted roses, peonies, and daffodils. You have a feeling that he's been taking his time, hoping to prolong the journey and avoid the flowers situated just under your nose. Despite the sweltering summer heat and the perspiration pooling at the nape of your neck, you refuse to retire.

It's been a week since he left you dumbfounded after your shared kiss. You're petty and hurt, and damn it—

You want to see him squirm.

"Have you spoken to Drew today?" Lydia asks, snapping you out of your reverie. "I haven't seen him at all."

"He's been cooped up in his study with Martin," you say. "Important business matters to discuss, I presume."

"How boring," she mutters, rolling her eyes. You smirk.

Harry finally finishes with the rosebush. You're nearly certain that it will die sometime within the next few days—the roots have been inundated with enough water to fill a bathtub.

He proceeds to the next flowerpot a few feet away, moving closer. You swallow down the anxious lump in your throat, trying to ignore the goosebumps that materialize on your arms.

Thankfully, Lydia opens her mouth again, luring your focus back into the conversation.

"Do you find Martin charming?" she asks absentmindedly.

You nearly choke on your own saliva. "I beg your pardon?"

She giggles. "Martin. Do you find him charming?"

You chew on your bottom lip before blowing out a defeated sigh.

"To be perfectly candid..." you say slowly. "No. I don't."

Your sister hums. "Neither do I."

You fix her with an incredulous look. "Really?"

"Of course," she says, as though it's the most obvious thing in the world. She plays with the hem of her dress, pinching the chiffon between her fingers. "He's arrogant, and he talks far too much."

You laugh, covering your mouth shyly. "He does, doesn't he?"

"Indeed." She nods. "I hope to marry a man who conveys his feelings with actions rather than words. Wouldn't you agree?"