Her Eyes

Thirty One

The sheets rustled in the cold morning.

Esmae awoke, slowly gaining her consciousness as she blinked the tiredness away. Looking around, she noticed how dark it was outside. The faint, but audible sound of snowflakes falling from the cloudy sky told her all she needed to know, and she sighed, burying her face in Nikolaos' chest, wishing she could fall asleep once more.

Her emeralds glanced at Nikolaos' sleeping exterior. His hair was a mess atop his head and his brows were relaxed. It seemed that they were always furrowed recently. Esmae wanted to ask why, but she couldn't; he was always working on something and she didn't want to disturb him when he was so focused.

Her hand went to his face, and she traced over his features softly, tapping his cheek and watching it bounce back. She stifled a titter and kept her hand on his neck, rubbing her thumb over his veins slowly.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang. Esmae's attention went towards the light jingle and she contemplated on going to get it herself. She never did, mainly because Nikolaos taught her not to open the door for anyone but him, but she was curious this time; besides, he was sleeping so soundly. She didn't want to disturb him.

The bell rang for a second time and Esame took action. She slowly and quietly slipped out of Nikolaos' arms and wore a thick wool sweater before opening the door to the bedroom and slipping out.

Her footsteps were light and quiet against the cold wooden floor, courtesy of her being a leaf once, and she made it downstairs to the front with ease.

The bell rang for a third time.

The dryad went to the front door, her hand holding the knob tightly as she went on her toes and peered through the minuscule hole to see who it was. A small part of her hoped it was Lan.

It wasn't.

Rather, it was an older woman and man that made the house feel lively in a more familial way. Evangelia and Charis.

Her eyes widened and so did her smile. Without a sliver of hesitation, she opened the door, her body shivering at the cold wind that forced its way through.

"Esmae! Good morning, deary. How are you? I hope Nikolaos didn't make you cry. He is sweet boy, but sometimes rude. Don't think too much about him, okay? I brought food with me." She passed by the leaf, taking off her shoes and making herself at home as she rambled. "Why are you still standing there? Come, come. I have warm soup. Did you just wake up? You have lines on your face. Where is Nikolaos? Is he still sleeping?" She took Esmae's hand and dragged her to the kitchen to wash her hands.

Charis followed behind, organizing their shoes and putting the tote bag filled with food on the dining table before taking off his winter coat.

Esmae couldn't keep up with how quickly Evangelia was speaking, especially because her accent made words sound different compared to how they were usually pronounced in English.

"Nikolaos is sleeping upstairs," she said softly, replying to the only question she could remember. She smiled kindly, drying her hands with a soft kitchen cloth. Evangelia stopped pacing around and looked at the shy young woman.

"Still sleeping?" Esmae nodded. "Ah, that little boy." She kissed her teeth and headed to the stairs, raising her hand in a fist, and began banging on the wall loudly.

Esmae flinched at the suddenness of it all and covered her ears, never hearing such a disastrous sound. She wondered how Evangelia's hand didn't hurt from how hard she was going and feared the wood would break under her force.

"They call it motherly strength, no?" Charis spoke up, his deep and kind voice sounding quiet and muffled under the booming sound of knuckles meeting wood. Esmae looked at him for a moment.