AN ENCHANTER'S FORETELLING. [NARNIA]

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE | DISTRACTION

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
DISTRACTION

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Many restless thoughts swarmed about in her mind, and she did not know what to make of them — especially after what had happened the night the wise Lion had visited her.

If it wasn't for the fact that Susan Pevensie had pointed it out, she wouldn't have taken notice of her shifting fingers and tense hands. She didn't know what to do with them; she wanted to bite her nails to distract herself of her tense-ridden thoughts, pick at them, scratch the back of her itchy neck, sit down, but alas, the bowl fresh with water she carried allowed her to do anything but.

A foreign feeling settled in the pit of Rose's stomach, and she did not know if it was because she would be seeing him during breakfast, or because of the thoughts and theories that made her all the more occupied and quite frankly, fidgety. It nearly made her run into the vanity and drop the bowl of water only because she misstepped on her way in the bedroom. But even then, her uneasy contemplations masked her vision and mind. She didn't even remember when she had placed the bowl atop the vanity, and why she had flinched when Susan Pevensie laid a gentle hand on her shoulder.

Her body flinched at her touch, and Rose solicited a small gasp when she did. Her fidgety hands finally left the cold bowl she clutched, and she turned to the queen once the feeling in her stomach had slowly dissipated. It certainly did not help that she hadn't really gotten an ounce of sleep the night before — or the past week, for that matter — and she seemed to be on edge because of it.

Rose didn't know why she was thinking of him, and so early in the morning, but she was. And it was a feeling so wonderful that blossomed within her, that she did not have the nerve to even complain one bit. It was a very similar feeling as the one she had felt towards her neighbor when she'd first moved in with the Lovells, and that thought only was enough to make her frustrated; to avoid him because of the all-too familiar feeling that would brew within her the second she saw him.

Especially after she'd foolishly taken hold of Edmund Pevensie's hand the last time they had visited the library. She had been telling him about a book — albeit passionately — the Mr. Tumnus had given her during one of their lessons, when she had grabbed his hand in a utterly joyful manner. But by Jove, his touch alone was enough to stir something within her; to bring the biggest smile to her face because she had held his hand. Thus, when she shut the door to her bedroom that night, her hand clasped around her mouth before she giddily smiled.

This was not the only time it happened, though. To refresh your mind, the first time had been when Edmund visited her in the infirmary, and something came over her to just hold his hand as he expressed just how worried he was for her. It was then when she'd pulled him into an embrace, too; it had been one of the best she'd had in a while, because it was then when she... Oh, regardless, she did not regret having done just that, (and neither did he, but she didn't know that yet).