Tomorrow (Enoch x Reader)

Chapter Six (Your P.O.V)

          When I went to my room after dinner that night, there was a black rose on my nightstand. I picked it up and looked out my door to see if anyone knew where it came from or if anyone else had gotten one, but everyone had gone to bed so I did too.

          It was around two a.m. when I woke up to a knocking on my door. I cracked it and looked out. "Walk with me?" He asked. "Enoch, it's two in the morning." I whispered. "I know. I'm going out for a walk, and I wanted to know if you wanted to come with me." "You're being serious." "If you don't want to go, I'll walk alone; it's nothing new." He said coolly. "Yeah, I suppose, just give me a minute." I shut the door, an excited grin spreading across my face. I put on my coat and shoes and came back out, carefully closing the door as to not wake anyone. We went down the stairs and out the front door. "Where are we going?" "Down by the water, I guess. I usually don't think about where I'm going when I walk." "Huh." We were silent for a while, and I held my hand out to touch the lower leaves on the trees that lined the path. "I like your ring." He said at random. "Oh, thanks," I replied, "It's like Miss P's pocket watch; if I pull out the crown and wind it back, time will wind back with it." "Will it work inside a loop?" "It'll ruin the loop if I try." There was another bout of silence. 

          "So why are you so bitter towards everyone?" I asked curiously. "It's a natural thing." "So it's in your nature to just be churlish all the time?" "Well, it's like this," he said stuffing his hands in his pockets, "It's really just a combination of two things. One, I enjoy being by myself, because I'm generally a detached person, and even though it's almost been a hundred years, everyone still has yet to realize that on a personal level. And two, I'm just blunt about things, and so I tend come off the wrong way to people." "And your explanation for your consistent brooding countenance?" "95 percent of the time I actually am brooding so it's unintentional." "You have an innocent face." "What?" "If you'd remember to soften your expression. Your eyes are naturally bright rather than stormy as you make them seem, and get this: if you cracked a smile, I bet you could get away with murder." He chuckled and I saw it,"There it is!" "You're a wee shit, you know that?" We both laughed. His eyes sparkled with wonder in the moonlight, and I could tell he hadn't smiled like this in a while. 

          "Did you get a black rose too? I found one on my nightstand." "Oh, no, that was actually from me." "Well thank you." I said extremely flattered. "You're welcome. I got the idea after Millard told me I had a...classy-macabre style, and I didn't really know which way to take that, but hey, it gave me an idea." "Yeah, I definitely see it, kind of like a prestigious college boy with a morbid side. I didn't even know black was a natural color for roses." "It's not, I had Fiona grow one for me." "She can grow abnormally colored flowers?" "She can grow ten foot carrots." I gave one of those "true-true" faces. "That was sweet of you to go through the trouble." I could see his cheeks flush pink and suddenly I felt mine doing the same. "You can thank one of my dolls for that, and I actually meant for it to pin the flower to your door, but they can be a wee bit thick sometimes." "It's fine." 

          As we walked, somehow, my right hand found its way into his left and neither of us minded. We neared the water, I heard the waves crashing on the shore. We came to a kind of cliff thing like the one from Horace's premonition. "This is kind of high up, don't you think?" I worried aloud. "Don't worry, I've got you." He said as we sat down in the soft grass. "So this was it," I said, "Horace's dream..." "I suppose." 

          "So, what exactly is your peculiarity? I was never actually told." "In short, I'm what they call a dead riser. I take animal hearts and organs alike and reanimate dead things for short periods of time. That and I can take a heart and bring inanimate objects to life. It's how my dolls function." "I'm suddenly inclined to let go of your hand." "Don't be," he chuckled, "I'm actually a very clean person." 

           We stayed out for an hour that night doing nothing but talking and pointing out constellations. At one point, I flew down over the water doing tricks in the mist that was always there, and I remember thinking about it, the sea mist, it was here yesterday. It's here now. It'll be here tomorrow. But tomorrow was just a lost concept, because it would always be September 3rd, 1943.