Twisted Legacy

[05]

Avery.

In as much as Tristan seemed to care so much about yours Truly—which bums me to date—he was not one to wear his heart on his sleeve. His affections, though genuine, were shrouded in a veil of stoicism, leaving one to decipher the true depth of his feelings through the smallest of gestures and the subtlest of glances.

His latest 'advancements' puzzled me.

It was not like him to dwell on my feelings nor echo Lady Veronica's words.

Again, why was everything feeling extremely out of place?

The scenario behind our friendship is a bizarre one. As with all serendipitous encounters, it was an unexpected moment that changed everything.

So cliché, sue me.

The Library, my favorite dining establishment of all time, is where we met. It is a haven for those who sought solace in the pages of a book while indulging in culinary delights. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the scent of aged parchment, creating an atmosphere that is both comforting and inspiring.

On that fortuitous afternoon, I was engrossed in "Tell Me Your Dreams" by Sydney Sheldon, a novel that had me on the edge of my seat with its gripping plot and unexpected twists.

Dramatic much?

Tristan, ever the enigma, approached my table with a subtle yet unmistakable air of curiosity.

"May I join you?" he asked, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.

I looked up, slightly startled but intrigued.

"Of course," I replied, gesturing to the empty seat across from me.

Making friends was not my strongest suit. Small talk wasn't my thing. My nose was perpetually nestled within the pages of a novel.

We sat in silence for a while until he broke it with what I believe was meant to be a joke. His attempt at humor was clumsy, yet endearing, and it brought a reluctant smile to my lips.

"Why did the scarecrow win an award?"

I quirked a brow in response.

"Because he was outstanding in his field."

He said, then flashed the most endearing smile I have ever seen.

I wager it was that smile that coaxed one of my own.

I later came to realize that once you permit someone to sit beside you, it naturally follows that you must engage in conversation with them.

Well, Paul was not the best at teaching manners, but he would certainly win an award for his disciplinary actions.

A royal seat in hell.

I winced mentally.

"Well, you certainly have a way with words," I replied, still smiling.

"I am Avery, by the way."

"Tristan," he said, extending his hand. "Pleasure to meet you, Avery."

"The pleasure is all mine," I said distractedly, shaking his hand and then returning my attention to where it was most needed.

Tristan raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

"Are you always this charmingly aloof, or am I just getting lucky today?" he asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

I looked up, catching the glint of amusement in his eyes.

"Oh, it's definitely your lucky day," I replied with a wry smile.

"I don't usually bestow my distracted charm upon just anyone."

Tristan chuckled softly. "Well, consider me flattered," he said, his sarcasm still evident. "So, what has you so engrossed that even my dazzling presence can't fully capture your attention?"

I couldn't help but laugh. "Your dazzling presence?"

I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"But yes, I do tend to get lost in a good book, especially when it is one of Sydney Sheldon's.

"I must admit; I am not much of a reader. But props to the writer for engrossing you enough to render my charm useless."

I raised an eyebrow, amused.

"So it is the competition you're worried about?"

He chuckled, leaning back with a playful grin.

"Well, it is not every day that I lose out to a stack of paper and ink."

"You should get out more; some have lost to worse scenarios." I bit back with a wry, sarcastic tone.

"But trust me, the right book can be just as captivating as any charming rogue." I added hastily, downplaying the fact that I did not appreciate him calling my precious book a stack of paper and ink.

Which it was though.

He scrunched his brows ever so slightly no doubt picking out his next words carefully.

"I'll take your word for it. In the meantime, I'll keep working on my charm."

I hummed in response, no doubt getting back to perusing pages of the stack of ink and paper.

I face palmed, mentally. I had an odd habit of replaying phrases that somewhat got to me.

Maybe I was a bit drastic with the whole 'it changed everything'. Our first encounter did not necessarily flourish into a fast friendship; I was a bit less trusting than that.

If he was anything like me, we were both testing the waters. Paul had indeed taught me a whole lot. I smiled bitterly.

I was never supposed to learn anything from him, and there I was, using his tactics.

Once again, I came to learn later that to him, that whole exchange had set the pace for what he had expected to be a lasting friendship.

There was something about me that he couldn't shake, so he said.

That struck me as completely odd, but then again, it is Tristan we are talking about.

He is direct like that.

The most memorable thing about that day is not the banter, nor the smile and the almost charm rather that he talked to me.

Not that I was some weird-ass creep that people jeered at or something, but I have what most people refer to as a mean demeanor. Plainly stated as RBF.

Not that I believed for once that I had it, many people pointed it out and as such I attributed it to be the reason why I never made friends easily.

Yeah right.

I was terribly off on that aspect.

Not that it bothered me, took the chance to delve into my books undistracted.

A/N: Been a hot minute, I know.

But we're back!

Hope you enjoy!

Next chapter is coming up.