Misfits (#2)

35

Violet.

I've always thought that the air in the rich countrysides of France has magic to it. Here, in Arles, Provence, it's as if a spell of ease has been cast over my head.

I landed a few days ago and the reprieve, from Amory Manor, is heavenly. Our villa is possibly one of my favourite places on Earth. We had it built of our own accord years ago, sat on the crest of a mountain and overlooking the smaller town below us.

It's not as big as Amory Manor, not as flashy but still luxurious with the infinity pool and balconies. Standing tall and beautifully, mostly stone and marble. I stand near the crest of the mountain, resting my hands on the glass siding barrier around the property.

The villa towers behind me, sun gently streaming through the leaves of the chestnut trees and warming my skin. The pool glimmers, and I can breathe. It takes me no effort at all to breathe easily.

Arles has a beautiful history to it. The ancient roman city, where Van Gogh stayed for most of his life. This city - it's art and rustic beauty embodied.

I hear gentle footfalls and I turn over my shoulder, watching Sage walk his way towards me in his crumpled t-shirt and joggers. It's not often I see Sage relaxed but today's the first day, since we arrived, that he has time to himself. A free day.

He nurses a cup of whiskey, dark hair falling over his forehead as he stands beside me. When he offers me a small smile, I return it and look back to the rolling mountains.

"Dad used to say France was your sunshine." He says once taking a sip, voice rough from sleep as he watches me, "It powers you to smile."

"It powers me to be happy." I say quietly, matching the delicate atmosphere.

He hums, resting his forearms on the glass barrier, "Get ready. And look nice."

"Where are we going?"

He's been busy with business since we first landed. I've spent a lot of the time in the villa, reading and relaxing, which has been freaking perfect. I've explored the small town a little but I've been itching to have a nice day out.

He shrugs, "Anywhere. We can drive to Marseille and I can call to get our boat ready to leave the harbour for a while. Or we can go into the smaller towns, if you'd like."

You know what, no. I'm sick of Sage being so passive about the prettiest place on the planet. I turn to him, subtly smiling, "What do you want to do?"

He grimaces.

"I don't really care for any of it, Vy, you know that." He sips at his whiskey again, "I'll enjoy whatever."

"But we always do what I want. Let's do it all. And by the end of the day, we'll have your favourite bits of France figured out. I'm sure we'll get to something you truly enjoy." I link my arm with his, "I'm gonna get you to love it, this time."

"You say that every time."

"This time, I mean it. I can feel it in my bones." I nod firmly, "Nobody ever has a day just for Sage. So it's Sage Day today."

He shakes his head like I'm an idiot but his lips quirk into a smile that makes me believe otherwise. I take the whiskey from his hand and before he can snatch it back, I toss away the remnants. He slowly looks at me. I smile, "You can't be tipsy for Sage Day."

He reaches into his pocket, no doubt for nicotine so I get there quicker, throwing the box over the mountain somewhere. He tips his head back, aggrieved, "Sage should get to do what he wants for Sage Day."