{ storybrooke }

11. { fruit of the poisonous tree }

It was fairly busy inside Granny's Diner due to the lunch rush. Winter was sitting patiently on the bar stool by the counter as she waits on her to-go order of lunch for Mr. Gold and her. He had apparently closed a deal about some land and wished to celebrate. He also knew just how much she adores the food from Granny's, so a decision on how to celebrate was easily made.

On a stool besides her sits Henry. There was a cup of tea in front of him, but he did not spend any attention on it. His attention was fully on the blank sheet of white paper in front of him on which he was feverishly scribbling. The was putting down words and creating stick figures that do certain actions like sword fighting.

Winter didn't want to pry, but she was also quite curious. She tries not to be too obvious as she sneaks glances over his shoulder.

But there was another person in the diner who did not seem like he minded prying at the boy's drawings. "What are you working on," the male voice asks. Winter could not help but stare at the man. He was the mysterious man with the motorcycle. The man Mr. Gold told her to stay away from and never approach.

Henry didn't look up as he responds that he has no time to talk. He needed to write it all down before he forgot, he tells him. His response lit the flames of her curiosity even more as she didn't bother hiding anymore that she was listening in. What was it he was so scared to forget that he couldn't even eat his lunch?

"Yeah, I hate it when great ideas slip away from me," the man says. Winter glances at his blue eyes in wonder. Was he an artist of sorts, perhaps? Still, Henry refuses to tear his eyes away from the paper as he explains that it were not his ideas, but stories from a book that he lost.

Finally, it all seemed to click for the brunette teen. Henry lost his storybook, the one which he believes to be true representations of people living in Storybrooke.

"Must be a hell of a book. What is it about," the man asks. "Stuff," Henry responds. He didn't like spilling all the secrets of his book to this man who he didn't know but seemed all too interested.

The man remarks that it sounds exciting and then Henry raised his head. He suggests that the man was awfully much interested in the book and him, to which Winter had to agree. It was a bit strange and borderline creepy for this mysterious person to pay so much attention to an eleven year old and his book. Perhaps Mr. Gold had a point when he warned her to stay away from him.

The stranger counters that he was just being neighbourly, which Henry didn't seem to buy. He asks what he was doing in Storybrooke, which was what Winter also wondered. It was quite a well known fact that Storybrooke was a closed off community. Strangers didn't come there, except for.. well, Emma and herself.

The man explains he was a writer, but Henry argues that he could write anywhere and digs in deeper. Unfortunately for him, he wouldn't receive the answers that he wanted. Instead, the man whispers the boy's earlier response back at him and leaves the diner. It was then that Henry finally seemed to notice the girl sitting next to him.

"Winter.. he-hello," the boy stutters. A blush creeps onto his pale cheeks and he looks down. "Hello, Henry. How are you?"

The boy shrugs his small shoulders in response. "Fine, I guess." Winter observes his facial expressions. "That does not sound very convincing. Did something happen?"

It was then that he unloaded what he had on his mind. "It is my castle. Well, the wooden one by the water. It was Emma and mine's spot, but it got ruined in the storm. And now my mom found out and she destroyed it. But I also had my book buried there so she wouldn't find it and its gone too. That's why I'm writing it all down, you see?" He shows her the drawings and scribbles he put on the paper.