Broken Defender

Chapter Twenty-Five ~ Misty Blue

Does he bare no conscience? To me, of course he's a complete gentleman, chivalrous, and kind... but to others he was beginning to seem cold, and downright hateful. He became to Rachel, what she had been to me for so long. And yes, part of me praised him for his ability to stand up to people, but the way he went about it seemed wrong. Then again, maybe that was my pacifism glaring. I'm not a pushover, but I do tend to avoid aggression at all costs. My mother has always been that way too, but she is more capable of handling animosity than I am. She's strong willed, a thinker, a problem solver. She can see every side of an argument, and solve the dispute as quickly as a lawyer. I wish I was like that, as strong willed and forthcoming as she.

My quietness spawned from my father, I'm sure. He had always been so soft spoken, and selfless. He never made himself the center of attention, not out of fear but humility. He valued the thoughts of others, hanging onto and digesting each word as if the information were gravely important. He was a learner, and probably the smartest man on the planet... though no one knew but my mother and me. Only we were privy to his vast knowledge collected from years upon years of listening. It was amazing the things he knew. He used to go on and on about the silliest facts, things no one would know off of the top of their head. One night in particular, I recall him spouting useless information about the history of paper. Who cares about the history of paper? I never had, and I remember thinking it such a humorous train of thought. To this day, I can hardly remember a word he said. I always got caught up in the sound of his voice; the safety in its low and comfortable rumbles... something I missed. Harry's voice was low though, like my father's. He too seemed soft-spoken, generally quiet... yet with me he could talk endlessly, and about anything.

"Don't step in the water." Harry expressed, grabbing me by the shoulders and directing me around a large mud puddle.

We had only begun our walk moments ago, and I was already lost in thought. He had been quiet too, indifferent. I think maybe he had caught on to my earlier frustration with him in regards to his cruelty toward Rachel. Was I still even disputing that argument in my head? Somehow I had gotten off subject, and that fact alone had given me the ability to forget earlier vexations.

"Thanks." I murmured against his side.

His arm wrapped around my waist as he led me home. He's so careful and considerate with me. Truthfully he's anything a teenaged girl might hope for in her first boyfriend... or at least that's what the teen magazines suggested.

I wasn't subscribed to any such eye rolling types of literature, but long waits in orthodontia offices always left me scrounging for any bit of entertainment to occupy my time. I'd read everything they suggested a girl my age look for in a boy. I knew all of the tips for snagging a perfect first kiss - which I had actually bombed, I recall - and all of the rules of flirting... rules I didn't actually know how to apply. Along with that pile of useless information, I had read all of the fashion tips... and in that area I was seemingly on top of things, due to my mother's knack for sewing and creating new things for my wardrobe. She even made the dress I plan to wear tonight.

It's a summer dress actually, blue floral. Harry had noticed it one day while snooping through my closet, and showed quite a liking for it... and though November brought upon uncomfortably cold temperatures, I planned to wear it anyway, for him... though I doubt he would even remember what it looked like.

"I'll pick you up at six, yeah?" He asked, leaning in a kissing my lower lip.

I smiled up at him, enjoying in the last moments of his company for the next few hours while I would be getting ready.

"I can't wait." I whispered, biting my lip in excitement as he smiled down at me.

"I can't wait to see you." He divulged, pulling me in by my hips and kissing me one more time.