IN WHICH,
The boy who frequents your father's workshop carves a place for himself in your heart.
'He's looking at you. He's looking at you as if you're his whole world. If anyone could see him right now, they would immediately understand one thing:...
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The next time you encounter the boy with the brown curls again is on a Wednesday morning. The bell above the door rings and you look up to see who it is, only to be met with those same hazel eyes again. You smile at him, placing down the project you've been working on.
"Oh, is your dad not here?" Treech asks, noticing it's just you and him in the workshop.
You shake your head, "No, he's out with my mother right now actually. Something about wanting to stroll through the town together." You shrug and smile, already accustomed to the way they were so open about their love for each other.
"That's really sweet, actually." Treech smiles in response and then loads three thick logs of wood he was carrying onto the floor of the workshop. "Sorry, hope you don't mind. These were getting a little heavy to carry, and I'd prefer talking to you without these in the way."
"Oh don't worry about it, I'm surprised you made carrying all that look so easy." You nod, unsure if he had meant for his last sentence to come off as flirtatious as it did.
He grins at your comment, looking at you and it feels as if the world stops momentarily. You weren't familiar with the feeling of being under the spotlight. For as long as you could remember, you were always more inclined to the arts. The focus would be pinned on the subject you were drawing or carving out, while you worked your magic in the background. In an attempt to shift his attention to something else, you change the topic.
"How about you Treech? Is your father not here?"
"My old man's down with the flu at the moment," He admits, his tone sympathetic, "So I offered to cover for him today."
Your gaze on him softens. It's almost touching how he subtly reveals how much he cares about his father. "Oh! I forgot, your payment. For the logs of wood." You laugh it off and then place 30 coins on the table, taking them from the cash register.
"Pleasure doing business with ya." Treech adopts a teasing tone, and proceeds to tip his hat towards you. You understand this to be an old-fashioned way of saying 'thank you' and it elicits a laugh from you.
The conversation seemed to have ended, and you expected Treech would leave soon. To distract yourself, you continued refining another of your creations you were working on at the moment. As you waited for the bell on the door to ring, your hands maneuvered the tools delicately and carved out fine details to your project. However, the resounding chime of the bell never came. Turning around, your eyes somehow locked onto his.
Treech smiled apologetically and rubbed the nape of his neck, having been caught admiring you and your work, "...Sorry. I just think that you're so talented. Your works, and the way you work so hard on them, it's fascinating really." Realising how that could be taken in a romantic sense, Treech averts his gaze. "Ah, about the logs I brought in, where do you want me to put them?"
Warmth spreads across your face at this and you let out a mumble of gratitude.
"It's really okay I promise!! I just have to move them to the pile with the logs on the other side of the room." With that, you turn back to work on the bookshelf.
Unbeknownst to you, Treech observes the room and pinpoints where to put the logs. Glancing at you for a moment, he rolls up his sleeves and hoists the logs up into his arms.
After a few moments, you decide to check up on him again. Only to realise he's moved the logs himself. "Oh, thank you! However I hope you know I can't get you any extra coins for that." You joke, your hands resting on your hips as you pivot around to look at him.
"No worries. It was free of charge." He replies, "Look what I found on one of the logs though."
As your eyes widen in curiosity, Treech takes notice of this and smiles. In his hands is a flower resembling the colour of snow, with a golden centre.
"A primrose." Your eyes sparkle seeing the blossom.
"I don't know the actual meaning of the flower but I like to think it means hope." Treech confesses, "After winter has passed, these are always the first flowers to bloom again. Even after the toughest of times, it just goes to show there's always the hope of life. What d'ya think?" He sends you another one of his captivating grins and it feels as if he's just told you his biggest secret, given how earnestly he admitted his thoughts on the topic.
"That's a beautiful take on the meaning of a primrose. I think my mother once said they mean something similar to that, so you're not far off." You laugh softly, "Something about youth and renewal, but hope sounds perfect to me."
As the days pass, you notice Treech appearing in the workshop more often. Not that you were against that, as you always seemed to look forward to his next visit. Sometimes, he wouldn't even show up with logs, using the excuse that he was just passing by to talk to you. You'd put up a feint, rolling your eyes at him but soon your act would crumble and a smile would spread across your face just from talking to him. Although you weren't familiar with many people in your district, it felt nice to know there was someone who would be on your side. It felt nice to know you had a friend.
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