𝙔𝙊𝙐𝙏𝙃 - 𝙏𝙝𝙤𝙢𝙖𝙨 𝙎𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙗𝙮

THIRTEEN

THIRTEEN

Movement in her bed had woken Achara up. She squinted her lids, tearing her hand from the duvet to protect her eyes as sunlight glistened in her bedroom. As her eyesight grew used to the light that enveloped her. The young woman hoisted herself onto her elbows, examining the changing figure in front of her. Thomas turned to her, crouching down so she wouldn't have to look up at him. He placed a palm on her cheek, running his fingers up and down. She hauled herself up to his face, their lips merely inches away, and stared into his dashing blue eyes. They seemed more delicate, more relaxed. She boosted herself off of her bed and strolled across the room to open her closet, pulling out a baby pink skirt and a white ruffled blouse.

She sensed Thomas' eyes studying her, every step she'd made. His eyes followed, mesmerized by her allure. The lady pulled the outfit up, examining how it looked against her somewhat tan skin. She'd acknowledged that as she's been living in the bleak country, her skin had become exceedingly pale. She held the skirt onto the floor, stepping into the skirt. Tugging the fabric up her legs and over her slip and she pulled her blouse over her soft shoulders, buttoning it up carefully. Leaving her hair down. Humming as she brushed her hair. Achara stretched her hands to the rear of her skirt but struggled to locate the end of her zip.

"I'll do it," He mumbled, his hands grasping ahold of the zip and pulling it up. She'd never thought he would be so soft. Yet here he was doing up the rear of her skirt, while she stood with a face redder than strawberries. It was a charming gesture, one she read in novels and had seen in the pictures. Though only couples did this, it left her mind questioning everything. Were they a couple? They had spent the night together in each other's arms, but did that mean they were a couple? She had limited experience with relationships. She just fixated on picking at the velvety skin on her neck. "I want to take you somewhere after we'll go see the rest of the family."

Achara turned to face him with a puzzled face, "But... Don't you all have work?" He snickered, leaving the lady more confused, before planting his hands on either side of her waist. Achara pouted, not understanding what he meant, crossing her arms across her breast. She had an inkling of what it could've been, though didn't want to accept it. She had told no one, nor celebrated it in a long time. Had he truly taken the time to find out when it was?

"You think we didn't know your birthday?" He grinned down at her. He answered her suspicions, a sincere appreciation aroused in her midsection. As she looked to shield her blushing cheeks, but he pulled her face towards him. "Your 18 today, and we're going to celebrate it." He pulled a package encased in paper mache and handed it to her. Achara drifted towards her bed, placing the box on her lap, and inspecting it before delicately tearing off the wrapping. 'Jewellery' she realized, 'it had to be jewellery.' She was right. As she opened the box, she found a pearl necklace with a charming pendant. The pendant captured her eye. It was art. Her art, the gift, was so nice she thought she would cry.

"Oh, Tommy..." She struggled to speak without her voice cracking, she plucked up the necklace in-between her fingers, rolling the pendant around in her palm as if it were not real and she would wake up vacant-handed and without the man who stayed the night beside her. "I love it. Thank you."

"You have some genuine talent, had no idea you could paint so beautifully till I stumbled into that room." He declared, his arm spread out on the windowsill, peering down at her. She beamed. It had been a while since she'd received such a personal gift, even since she'd celebrated her birthday. She'd never in a million years thought she'd see such a sweet and caring surface to Thomas. She figured it was as close to the younger Thomas she would get, the lad he was before the war, before the anguish. He held his hand out to her, silently telling her to leave and go on to whatever celebrations he had planned.