The Sweet Taste of Honey

MISSING PIECES

AVERY

Coffee in hand, one for her and one for me, I waited for her by the fountain, like I said I would. I perched on the round wall around the pool of water, watching the water cascade down the sculpture effortlessly. For a second, I didn't think she'd show, all day in fact I debated the idea that she way never come at all.

"Avie," she said catching my attention.

"You came."

"Of course I came."

I handed her one of the takeout coffee cups as we started to walk through village markets. Stalls with fresh food and handmade gifts, with red and white canopies, spread out across the village centre. It was only a small village with a few markets, nothing fancy.

Even in her casual clothes she looked completely put together, her hair in perfect waves, makeup so flawless I wasn't entirely sure if she was even wearing any.

In the cold, we could see the faint white fog of peoples breaths floating in the air around them. She stayed close to me, and I stayed close to her because the heat from one another helped with the bitter breeze. Not that the temperature had all that much of an impact on because I'd be happy enough to sand side by side with her any day, through any weather come wind, rain, or shine.

--

"Can I show you somewhere?" She asked.

"You're bored of the markets already?" I teased.

"No I just want to show you somewhere, while we still have time," she smiled and offered a hand out to me, "so Avery Jenson are you coming or not?"

She held on to my hand, pulling me down the side of one of the stone buildings until we reached a small black door. There was no sign on the door or any tell as to what this place was but I still followed her inside, gladly.

The room was filled with shelves covered in books, it was the tiniest little library I'd ever seen but there was something so homely about the place. The dark oak shelves, the deep red carpet, the beautiful designs around the window frames, the warm lights. She walked past the small front desk and took me up the stairs at the back.

The entire place mustn't have been any bigger than a two or three bedroom townhouse, it was narrow and small in size but taller than I'd expected as we continued to climb the stairs to the third and final floor.

There wasn't a person in sight or even hidden down one of the rows of shelves. Juliet took me to a small corner with a beige sofa, there was a small square of light shining down from the skylight in the roof, illuminating the compact space.

She took a seat on the sofa and for whatever reason it felt natural for me to curl up next to her, my head resting against her shoulder. She seemed so calm here like she finally could let go.

"Next time you don't feel like going home or being alone in that house come here. The family in the house next to it own this little place, it never really closes, only on Christmas," she told me.

I stood up from the sofa and made my way to the bookshelves, my finger ran over the spines of the books filled with an array of novels and stories, as I walked down the row admiring the place she'd brought me to. This was a place where being alone didn't feel so bad or so lonely, this was a place that felt like hers for when she didn't want to go home, or whatever it was that made her fall in love with this place so much, to begin with.

She made me want to learn everything about her, she made me want to spend hours of my day tracing along the vines in her palm, she made me want to listen to her stories, even if she was my teacher