Just to Clarify: Beaumont has never truly celebrated his birthday with a proper genuine smile in years. He may have smiled every year for the sake of his father trying his best to make the day happy for his son. But deep down Beaumont still didn't feel that happiness within in.
This year though, he feels a smile coming on to his face every time Evelyn Hawthorne is mentioned or in the room with him. She has been by his side like a magnetic this past week ever since Monday when he missed his medication.
She has been round to his house or the book shop everyday with new dishes that she wanted him to try and making sure that he is drinking properly. She was serious when she said that she wanted him to stay alive, she knows it'll happen one day but for now. She's trying to be there for him and that's all Beaumont ever asked for.
So this led to a special comforting evening with Evelyn and Beaumont. After the mass at the synagogue, Evelyn had surprised him with a hug in front of everyone - slipping past her fathers permission of course. She then trailed him out the back doors and they made their way through the forest, towards the waterfalls.
They lay tangled in between each other on the grass. Evelyn's head lays on Beaumonts chest, his arm wrapped around her as their legs tangle with one another. They stayed like that for hours, even if it was nothing too special, it was to Beaumont.
He never felt like this on his birthday, he would just hang out with his father and they end up drinking at his mothers grave to end the day. He loved that too, but he loves this more. He couldn't ask for anything else. He feels he found someone who is it. She's the one.
"I want to stay here forever." Beaumont whispered, rubbing his finger tips up her bare arm.
"I do too." Evelyn whispered right back with a happily content sigh.
Even after saying that, Evelyn still say up with a unhappy groan to slip past Beaumont. She only giggles, swatting at his grabby hand before she reached into her bag that she had brought with her hours ago. She places the wrapped item in her hands, nervously stroking it back and forth.
She doesn't know why she's feeling nervous, but she knows deep down it's probably that she made him something that only a girlfriend would make. She hasn't even kissed him yet but even with them hanging out all the time. She feels like that sometimes she's a person he wants comfort by.
Like a friend.
Even if they do cuddle and that he does kiss her neck, there's no kissing. She wants so desperately to kiss him but she won't because she's too petty for her own good. She wants him to do the first move and she'll wait forever until he will. She knows that thought isn't right but she longs for her first kiss to be Beaumont McKinley.
Even if he doesn't like her, like that.
"You didn't have to get me anything." He stated, sitting up beside her and leaning his elbow on his bent knee.
"Yeah I did." She replied, handing him the present.
Beaumont takes the present in his hands and looks at her with a raised brow. A girl has never gotten him a present before, not even his ex girlfriend.
"For me?" Beaumont mumbled just to make sure but he knows it is for him but it's that small part of him still insecure about being handed things that he shouldn't be getting.
Evelyn gives him a soft gentle smile, nodding. Beaumonts stomach flutters as he grips the firm wrapping paper between his fingers with anticipation. He holds the present tight into himself as he begins to rip it quickly as if afraid it will be taken away from him. He crumbled the paper to the side of him as he stares down at the sketchbook.
He runs his hands down the front cover before opening the book, his fingers gliding over the first page. He felt a surprised look take over his features, as he sees the chalk dusted across the page, the edges of lines and curves of detailed swirls sharpening into something Beaumont recognizes.
A body stretched out amongst a grassy field.
Something so peaceful, shattered as soon as the rain started to pour from the heavens. Evelyn
has captured that in its entirety, the darkness of burnt trees a mess of black chalk in the background.Beaumonts speechless, mouth attempting to find words. His eyes rank over the page so many times that he forgot there's more pages to look at and he flickers to the next page. This one was a portrait of him, he remembers this one as it's when Evelyn had asked him awhile ago to sit for almost an hour.
The tonal eyes stare straight through Beaumont, his eyes mesmerised by the detailed drawing. His finger points out to outline the sketch, panicking when it smudges on his finger. He jolts back but comes close to the journal again to observe the male. His hand stands by his side this time to not ruin it, eyes ranking in the sketched hairstyle which the page appears to be prodded with some material to get a depth into the hair lines.
Taking in the structure of the sharp face structure, the stubble the man has on his face with persistent strokes. But it wasn't his brain clicked that it wasn't a random make on the page, his eyes deceiving him before of imaging it was a mirror showing his reflection but actually it's a drawing of himself.
Beaumonts mouth gapes open, his eyes moving down to the bottom right hand corner of the page with Evelyn's shorten signature and a message.
'Promise, forever and always.'
He stares towards Evelyn now for a beat, and then his face cracks, and a full blown grin sketches on his lips. "This is amazing. Thank you Evelyn." He said, placing a fallen piece of her hair behind her ear.
"You haven't finished looking at the book yet." Evelyn stated, blushing under his blue lavender gaze. "But your welcome."
"You're so good to me." Beaumont says, stroking his thumb across her rosy cheeks.
"I think it's the other way around. You brought a new light in my life, Beaumont."
"We're both each other's breaking dawn."
"You the moon, I the sun."
"If you are to be the sun, I am to be Icarus, a fool fated to fall and burn before I ever reach you. Even on wings of wax, I would always fly towards you."
"Okay, put your sad boy poetry thoughts away, Beaumont." Evelyn joked with a teasing smile but she still leaned into his touch more.
"It's true, I wish you can see yourself in my eyes." Beaumont whispers. "Then you can see how breathtaking you are."
"Are you drunk?" Evelyn teased once again, ruining the moment but Beaumont knows that she is like himself with receiving comments and has to use back handed comments.
"I'm a poet." He whispered, leaning his forehead against hers.
And Beaumont is speaking nothing but the truth in Evelyn's eyes. That is because if you truly know someone and their love for books then you know that poets don't talk straight and coherent. They speak with truth and nostalgia and with colours and emotions. They make claims about love but also pain and hurt.
They express themselves on paper with words and ink. They are poets, he's a poet, will the world ever accept them? But to Beaumont he's written for himself and now, he writes for her. Evelyn Hawthorne is his heart because his heart won't stay his.
Are we friends or are we more? Evelyn thought to herself as she gets lost in his eyes. She can't help but fall more for this man and his words. God, does she so want to kiss him. And kiss him and kiss him and kiss him. She was going fucking nuts. Did people lose their minds when they feel they are falling in love with someone? Who was she? She didn't know herself anymore.
Shit.
UNEDITED | Like. Comment. Follow.
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Timeless |
Roman d'amour"Promise me this is forever." She whispered softly. "I promise, my darling Evelyn."