Water In My Lungs

Small Minded Folk

"So, where are we going first?" He looked over at her, stoney eyed and inquisitive.

"Where would you like to go?" Killian asked, glancing around at the different colored buildings around them. They were on a downward hill and the roofs tilted with the ground.

"I don't know. I haven't even come into town since we moved in. Take me somewhere fun," Connor said happily. He looked ahead and pondered a moment, one side of his mouth tilting. A small dimple appeared below its corner.

"The market is nice. Does that sound fun?" he asked as if he was confirming the definition of fun instead of her approval.

"Yeah! That sounds great. What kind of things are sold there?" The blonde was sincere in her curiosity about the marketplace, but pulling some kind of whole hearted response from him almost consumed her thought process.

"Everything. Lots of food, good food. Household items, farming equipment. There's jewelry, for the women. Homemade," the green-eyed man spoke with a flicker of pride as she watched him, nodding with encouragement when he looked over.

They arrived in the square, booths finishing their set up for the day. Connor listened to the hollering between vendors and grinned, still enamored with the varying accents no matter the length of time she'd lived there.

Killian's eyes moved to her, noticing her smile and he felt a quietness come over him. The cheer she emitted soothed him, not a feeling he experienced often. He led Connor to a stall he recognized, the last of the displays being set up by an older woman with a crocheted shawl over her shoulders.

"G'mornin' there, Killian," she said pleasantly. He nodded at her and she seemed to accept that without rebuttal.

"This is the jewelry I was telling you about," he said. Connor walked over and touched a large crystal necklace with her finger tips.

"It's beautiful," she murmured. She examined the rest; large pendents with wire wrapped up and around them leading to dainty silver chains, rose gold dangle bracelets, coil rings for fingers and toes, Celtic knots fastened on earrings. The old woman looked kindly at the two, graciously nodding at the compliments.

"Do you like them?" he asked her, almost eagerly. Connor turned to him and nodded, her voice smooth with honesty.

"Yes! They're lovely. Hand made jewelry has always been my favorite," she breathed admiringly at a rose quartz pendant. Killian nodded slowly at her answer, tucking the information away. The way his eyes landed on her made her glow, her fingers gliding over each other with excitement. They looked at each other a moment before Connor deflected his stare, pretending to be distracted by the next booth over.

There were hand carved bowls made of all different colors and consistencies of wood. Connor picked up a plate made of purple heart and marveled at it. It was smooth to the touch, the veins in the wood creating a beautiful, highlighted design through the center.

"Wow," the blonde started as he meandered behind her, "my dad plays at carpentry, he would love this." She dug in her pockets while she waited for the craftsman to turn around. "How much?"

"Fifteen," he said with a glimmer of friendliness. Connor's eyes lit up at the price.

"I'll take it." She paid for the plate and put it in the small paper bag the man offered her and again turned to Killian, gleaming. Before she could say anything to him nor him to her, they heard a gravelly voice thrown at them from a few stalls down.

"Aren't you that Americunt that killed old man Brew?" Connor turned, shocked at the lewdness and hoping it wasn't directed at her. When she saw the young man staring at her, she recoiled against Killian.