A/N: I still cannot get past the accidental confession of love, and it has me thinking about how long Mia must have been building up to it in her head and the times she's almost said something.
This will be a seven chapter story.
"Love is a thing that is full of cares and fears." – Ovid
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### Chapter 1: Distanced Encounters
It had been months since Mia had worked in a nursery. In truth, it had been months since she had worked at all, living off years of stockpiled funds from Roger while she ventured forth on her own once again, fuelled by fruitless determination and dented hope. Her last stint, at a nursery on the other side of the country, placed once more to keep keep watch on the Knight siblings, had seen her cross the threshold from room staff to management, leaving behind time spent with the children for an endless stream of paperwork, logistics, and parent complaints. It's not that she didn't have the skills to do the job, and do it well - she was nothing if not versatile - but, while she would never have chosen to pursue a career in early childhood if not forced into it, she had come to find satisfaction in her time spent with her young charges. Time in the office was simply no comparison.
Which was why she found herself now, yet again, taking a slow walk down the hall, peering through room windows. If stopped by parents or staff, she would claim it part of her job. Checking the lay of the land. Making sure everything was running smoothly. A dedicated deputy keeping a watchful eye. But she knew this wasn't the real reason her steps were so slow, measured to ensure the maximum amount of time spent out of the office. The windows framed the children at play, their bright young faces joyful and free as they laughed and rambled with their friends and nattered away earnestly with their teachers. It was a special kind of pain to watch them, always a step removed, seeing the carefree whirling and gambolling that had been ripped so violently from her own youth - and yet, with the smallest corner of her bruised heart, it allowed her to cling to the idea that there was still life to cling to.
From her vantage point perched at the edge of the toddler room window, body angled in feigned indifference, heart bleeding through eyes for those willing to actually see, Mia surveyed the room. She had always had a keen eye, often picking up on details (patterns, secrets) that others would leave unnoticed, and the scene before her did not escape her usual scrutiny.
Carly was in the book corner, reading animatedly to her group, toddler's excited voices falling over each other to participate. Like the girl herself, her activities were often exuberant and active, the kids being swept up by her bubbly personality. Mia tried not to watch the young girl too often, seeing in her the kind of freewheeling enthusiasm she had long since shed.
The other side of the room, however, was a different matter entirely. The staff member currently sitting cross-legged on the mat for story time, exuding calm and affection, held no overt similarities with Mia at all. In fact, as far as Mia was concerned, they could not be more different. Where Mia held herself to be vindictive, abrasive, even scheming, Charlotte was sweet, kind, and comforting. Years of manipulation and abuse disallowed Mia from seeing that these traits, buried deep for self-preservation, were fair closer to her truer nature than she herself could possibly realise.
Mia's expression softened as she watched Charlotte, that person-specific 'nice side' coming out in full force across her face. The slow head tilt and a gentle smile going so far as to catch the eye of a passing parent who had previously avoided the harsh and critical deputy. The children sitting around Charlotte looked up at her in rapt adoration, little ears entranced by her soft tone and solicitous words. The children sitting on either side of her found every excuse to reach out, small fingers tracing the stitching of her jeans at her ankle, another tangling herself lightly in the long lock of hair that had fallen loose down the woman's back. On the few days Charlotte had crossed town to work at this nursery it had become all too apparent that the children simply adored her.
And Mia could hardly blame them for that.
Charlotte had been one of the last staff members Mia had met officially since coming to work at the nursery. But even before their first introductions, she had found herself watching the woman as she went about her work. At first Mia couldn't quite put her finger on what it was that had drawn her attention. Charlotte was quiet, unassuming, and a far cry from the bold and outgoing personalities that Mia usually found herself attracted to. And yet, with each distanced encounter, the urge to be close to her grew increasingly hard to ignore. She knew the woman to be well liked amongst the staff at both nurseries , and a particular favourite amongst the managers. The thought of targeting Charlotte, of making her a pawn in the perpetual battle of wills that had taken up arms between herself and Reese, had seemed immediately abhorrent despite knowing exactly how effective a ploy it would have been.
Instead, Mia found herself keeping a watchful eye, redirecting the more gossipy staff into other rooms and warding off argumentative parents before they could even dare lay into Charlotte. Little by little these small efforts became habit. Ingrained. The need to protect this waif of a woman, with her bright smiles masking a hurting heart, becoming an inexorable impulse. It chaffed against everything she was here to do, every deeply rooted survival instinct, but despite it all, it was becoming the small joy in her days.
And if she dared ask herself why - why she was expending time and energy she did not have on a woman who surely would never care for someone such as herself. Why she was, even minutely venturing outside of the harshly dictated role set before her. Why Charlotte. If she was able to pluck up the courage to ask herself why she could feel herself wanting to set down her thorns in order to hold this woman in her arms... well the answer trying to coalesce within her felt alarmingly too close to love.
And Mia didn't love.