Windblown

01 » CYNOSURE

dedication ┋to harshita, for being one of my favorite people ever. she, like kay, was one of my supporters of the original story, and I appreciate her just as much as I do kay. much love, har.

authors note ┋welcome! i put a lot of effort into this chapter to make sure that it was completely different from the original, and I'm excited to see what you guys think. some new characters are introduced and will be extra important, so let me know what you think of them. other than that, happy reading!

song + image ┋SHOUT ABOUT IT by THE VAMPS

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CYNOSURE

(n.) a focal point of admiration

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I NEVER KNEW WHY, but I had always hated the smell of cinnamon.

I think it was because of how often the scent had found it's way into my nostrils, whether from the skin of my mother or our grand kitchen where our chef, Ingrid, constantly used it as if it were the only delightful seasoning in the entire world. It stuck to my clothes, skin, and hair until I gave up trying to get rid of it, instead letting it sink further into my belongings. My friends would always ask me why I smelt so good, or why it was always cinnamon, but instead of giving them a logical or charismatic answer, I would grimace.

And, as I slowly made my way down the winding, bamboo staircase in my dainty flats, I felt my nose twitching as cinnamon wrapped me in a forced hug. I paused, tried to think of something pleasant, and when a fond childhood memory came to mind, I continued.

I could hear my family's chatter before I even reached the kitchen, it becoming louder and louder with each quiet step that I took. Just before I pressed my palm against the tall, cream colored door to the kitchen, I stopped dead in my tracks. Quickly, I straightened my sleeveless blue dress, smoothed down my loosely curled blonde hair, and fanned my face so that I wouldn't look flushed. If so much as a hair were out of place I would never hear the end of it from my mother, and that was the last thing I wanted to happen during one of our rare family dinners. I wanted tonight to go nicely, with my mother happy, my father calm, and my brother tossing around his charisma as if it were a hot potato.

"There she is!" My brother beamed at me from his place at the table as I entered, much to my annoyance. I was hoping to slip in without making a sound, and he knew this. Adam stood up from his seat and made his way over to me, arms outstretched, and wrapped my small frame into a tight hug. "Relax." He whispered into my ear before pulling back and smiling at me, adding in a soft hair ruffling. "It's good to see you, Aspen."

"You too." I muttered with a small smile, immediately reaching up to smooth down my hair once again. "I don't think all of that was necessary, though."

Adam took my hand in his and leads me to the table where he pulled back my chair for me, allowing me to sit, and then pushed me in. "Oh, I think it was." He winked.

I haven't seen my older brother Adam in two years. While I just finished my senior year of high school, Adam just finished his sophomore year of college at Harvard Law School, and while I'm happy for him and greatly missed him, it was nice not having him here to be compared to. Ever since I could remember, Adam was always the star child. He mastered lacrosse, was first in his class, and was loved by kids and adults alike. He was perfect, and I was flawed. I was just as smart as Adam - maybe smarter - and nearly as good at tennis as he was at lacrosse, but because I was so shy and reserved I was considered a mistake. Adam could speak to anyone and leave them pondering why they hadn't met him sooner, while I could hardly keep up small talk. I was awkward, boring, and simply unlikable.