"A piece of parchment and a quill. This for which my love will spill" -A poem to my dearest Laurie.
Y/N L/N is a poet. Who unlike her friend, Jo March. Has no intention of letting the world see her work. She just wants Him to see. Although she's too...
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Fields of marigold, sun kissed you are. Wondering what it’s like to have seen you from afar, you make the earth feel rich from your dazzling display. I only hope your beauty doesn’t lead me astray. Those words resonated through my mind the moment I first saw the bloom from over the hill. Arthur had asked me to accompany him here, to use me as a reference for a painting he had mulled over since spring left us. He’d been asking me on many adventures since we’d first met at the ball. Much to Laurie’s protests.
I hadn’t the slightest idea why he was so aggravated. The brown haired gentleman had been nothing but kind to him. Yet, it seemed time hadn’t been kind to the weaver of this story because I have the strangest feeling I haven’t written a poem in the longest of times. Or perhaps time merely slowed when you were in the presence of a like-minded individual.
His brush stroked the canvas in an almost tender way, as if caressing the skin of a lover. His eyes deep in focus in a complete other state of being entirely. Although, he did always seem to catch my slightest movements, leading to a prompt scolding. I turned my head, peeking over my shoulder. To catch a glimpse of his progress. “Ah, don’t move!” Arthur jumped up from his stool, his hands gesturing to me to stop, a finesse of emphasis. “The sun is illuminating your hair in the most marvellous of ways” He was almost breathless.
“Your hair is a mess.” I smiled. Multi-coloured splotches of paint littered his fluffy strands.
“Well, I appreciate your keen eye, my lady. It means you’re learning the importance of the little details," he said. His focus flickered back to his canvas, trying to finish up the touches of the hair texture and lighting before the sun could move an inch more. His eyes locked with mine, a devilish forming on his lips. “Besides, what’s life without a little… colour?”
“Don’t you think about it!” I climbed to my feet to distance myself from him. “Arthur” I warned playfully.
“What? I’m not doing anything” He smiled as he strolled closer. The hand behind his back concealed the colour he forementioned. “Come here!”
The chase through the fields caused pollen from flowers to dance like stardust. Our laughs echo through the meadow. I hadn’t felt so much happiness than I did at that moment. An air of freedom and content ever growing comfortable. My spirit wished for this to be a common occurrence, I was entitled to agree.
“Got you!” Arthur chuckled joyously. The both of us fell to the ground. Laughing madly like fools. As I noticed our position, I flushed. My eyes locked with his, deep like dravite, unwavering. He hadn't blinked since we fell. breathing in the moment. “...You're most beautiful”
My neck grew tense, my body turning against me. I slowly rose up, my lips dangerously close to his. Our breaths intermingled, soft as our rising heartbeats. I leaned up, capturing his lips—
~♡~
“Y/N!” Laurie gasped. His heartbeat was erratically drumming in his chest. A dream? No, a nightmare, plaguing his mind. Every fibre of his being boiled from what he'd seen. A scene in his psyche so deeply burnt into his now foreseeable memory.
What was wrong with him? Why was he so scared of this possibility? And why wouldn't he just accept what his jealousy was so clearly protruding… He loved her.
