It Just Kind Of Happened

02: WE'LL LIVE FOREVER

HENRI x MACKENZIE

She didn't know why people even tried to soothe the situation. Of course, she was the queen of bad luck. Must've waited too long for the good things to happen that they just passed by. Now not only she felt bad for scolding a deaf person — and yeah, she didn't know, but still. Pretty bad. I guess shitty is the usual word for her. Pretty shitty, then. But she also now had to endure the small commotion of four that had settled around her. And all she wanted was some Frank Delfino and Connor Walsh. Guess that's what you get for being greedy. Oh well. Could've been worse. Don't ask her how, though, she doesn't have this kind of imagination.   

Henri was still paralyzed in his place, fear and awe mixing and messing with his mind; she could see it. His eyes, two intense slits of hazel orbs, were fixated on her, moving slightly from her left eye to her right, but failing miserably in whatever he was trying to achieve. Poor guy was like an open book, so easy to read, really seemed like he was talking. Only without words. It was a different kind talking, a smoother and more silent one. A good one.

Trying to appease the guy's nerves, she stretched her hand, picking up one of his scattered books. Flipped. It seemed like an interesting book. It had a chick on the cover, upside-down. A literal chick. This book must be really good, then, because it made total sense. Maybe it had something to do with the story, but anyways. She would make a mental note to read it later. Testing her brand new peace approach, Mac pushed the book in his direction, careful eyes watching any kind of extreme reaction he could have.

She wasn't ready for it, though, nu-uh. His reaction was the most unexpected one. His lips started to stretch, and for a second there Mackenzie thought he was going to start crying. But they continued on the endless stretch, forming the most genuine smile she'd ever seen. And yes, she saw the giggling girl. Couldn't even compare both smiles though. His was just pure. Like he wasn't hiding anything behind it, just the pure sheer of happiness.

His hands moved too fast for her to even glimpse at the movements he was doing, but she assumed that he was saying thank you. A little bit frustrated, she frowned and chuckled in defeat. It would be kind of hard to talk to him since she didn't even know the first thing about sign language. But hey, he was carrying books, right? That meant he could read! And with that epiphany, Mackenzie Maine reached out to her sketchbook and wrote down on it. She wrote with the neatest and readable letter she could. Hello.

And oh god he laughed. That was the first actual sound she heard coming out of his mouth, and it soon became the only one she wanted to hear. No words, no nothing, just his laugh. From his backpack, Henri produced a notebook, and also, with the tip of his tongue poking from the corner of his mouth, took his time to respond.

Hi.

Mackenzie couldn't help but notice how careful and almost classical his writing looked. It was beautiful really, so delicate and striking. He had another message before she could even think of what to say. I'm Henri.

And he was, indeed, Henri, wasn't he? The lanky lad with cute curly fringe and cute hazel eyes. And a dazzling smile, in Mac's opinion.

Hi Henri. I am Mackenzie.

Believe me when I say that inside Henri was cooing. He was cooing so hard for those freckles that his heart felt like it was made of rainbows and Frootloops, just like her T-Shirt. His cheeks started hurting from the wide smile he was sporting and soon enough he found himself concentrated on writing again.

Hi Mac :)

He was quite proud of the smiley touch in the end. It made her almost smile. It was something tight and small, but it was there nonetheless. And he got to see it.

Hi Henri.

And it'd be really nice to say that they kept talking about everything and nothing at once, but, truth was, the conversation stopped right there. They didn't have a subject to ponder over and in reality, one just don's ask about the weather. Not when one's plane has been canceled because of it. So as Mac opened her sketch book in a blank page, Henri opened his book. Silently, both of them just decided do their things. But Henri couldn't focus, not when those freckles were so near and so far at the sam time. Not when those green eyes kept glancing at him as if he didn't notice. Not when he saw his face sketched on Mac's notebook.

For a moment there Henri wallowed in self-pity. Let's say that for about five minutes or so he kept wishing he could represent Mackenzie Maine the was she was representing him. Her hand moved so fluidly on the paper, now drawing his cute curls seeping from the back of his neck. It all seemed so real. And after that short period of depressing thoughts, he finally remembered that hey, he could do it. He could make Mackenzie Maine eternal.

With a new sheet of paper and his pen, Henri started his new project; the eternalization of those freckles. Those green unexpressive eyes. And that forever old soul she sure seemed to have. He would write her down so that now she would live forever. He could feel her pulse through the pages as his hands glided over the blank lines; and he could see it already, her body laying upon the sheets, of paper and words so sweet.

Henri couldn't say it. As he was born deaf, he never got to learn how to talk. It came out as gurgles and groans, and that wasn't something that bothered him per say because it was not his fault. Everything it's the way it is supposed to be, or else it would be something else. And he was supposed to be deaf. Yet, this was the first time he was really struggling with it. Even when he was a kid it was okay for him. He couldn't say it though, Henri was incapable of saying the words, so he wrote her down in a verse. Something short, concise and wild, just like those freckles. Just like Mackenzie Maine, the girl he just met.

Henri Walsh was focused; he was really focused, so focused that he wrote over the note Mac slipped him, covering her letters with his. He was so focused that he didn't notice the other two people sitting at his feet chatting. Well, neither had Mac, but she was on a whole other level of alienation. The thing is... he was focused. And when the words finally made some kind of sense in some kind of way, Henri was satisfied; satisfied enough to take a peek at Mackenzie, who was already staring at him.

In her face, the ghost of a smile. In her hands, a big, robotic HI.

Hello, was his hopeless response. Henri didn't expect Mackenzie Maine to make small chat. Henri didn't expect Mackenzie Maine to hold up her sketchbook with a drawing of him holding a sheet of paper, with a beautifully curved Hi on it. But since when Mackenzie did what people expected of her?

With her iridescent blue nails, Mac pointed to the drawing, and then back again at him, slowly trying to say it's you. As if he didn't notice. The perfection of the drawing was amazing, and the style was so different. It was all messy and there were lines everywhere, but yet, he could see himself clearly. In the midst of the mess, he popped out.

Shyly giving her his notebook, he mimicked the same as her. It's you, he wanted to say with his best smile, it's you. Mackenzie took the book and started to read the short verses, her hand following his words. Her freckles, her beanie, her shirt. It was all jotted down in hurried words and newborn feelings, still, Henri got emotional with the way she could feel those words like he did. Just like he did, she could feel the pulse of the words, pumping the pages forward.

Now I'll live through the ages. She wrote down on her paper.

Henri breath hitched in his throat. Yes. Yes. Now she'll live through the ages. And okay, of course, it was a weird thing to say, but he was a deep person, Mac noticed, and she was just trying to keep up.

You and me both.

And oh god she laughed.