Will You Fall?

Chapter 7

        Celandine had woken up that morning with a new fire brewing inside her; it felt nice to finally have something to be excited about. She couldn't stop thinking about Owen; how he made her feel like an actual person again. Her gray eyes were alight and the specks of gold in them were more pronounced than ever. Celandine had tried to make herself look presentable, dressing in a red knit sweater and old jeans with minimal holes were the closest she ever got to presentable. She combed her caramel hair out with an old brush of Mary's; it hurt like hell and her split ends nearly shriveled at her touch. The kids were well awake and had just finished their peanut-butter and jelly breakfast; Buckley was watching as the girls knit and Stephen drew. Celandine made idle chit-chat with everyone but her mind was somewhere else completely. She was on auto-pilot, you could see it in her eyes; the way they always looked off to a different thought. 

        Celandine threw on her coat, grabbed her guitar and after biding her family a short goodbye, she was out the door. The cold bit against her skin, goose bumps rose and traveled all up her body; the only color upon her face was that of her cheeks and eyes, both fighting against the ghostly day. Celandine advanced onto the bus, avoided the eyes of the other passengers at all cost. After the bus ride she arrived at her usual spot and took out her guitar tuning it carefully. Owen had not yet arrived but Celandine didn't care, she was determined to go about as usual; she would not dwell on the thought of some gentlemen caller coming to rescue her. She played the usual; slower songs, sometimes just free lance strumming. As usual her fingers began to stiff, fingers so cold they grew strangely hot and every nerve prickled; telling her to put her gloves back on. After a good hour of playing, and ten dollars, she felt the familiar feeling of eyes straining to meet hers. Celandine looked up to see Owen grinning at her stupidly, his brown hair flopped effortlessly, his childlike fringe fell above his left eyebrow. She returned the smile, Buckley always said she had a beautiful smile. When the song ended and passerby's had dropped their small collection of bills Owen approached her and helped her to her feet.

"That was beautiful, Celandine." Owen said truthfully. "As always." Celandine blushed profusely.

"Thanks, I usually do better during the warmer months. You know, when I can actually feel my fingers." She joked. Most people would be very uncomfortable with Celandine pointing out her misfortunes but Owen seemed unfazed. "I see how that could be a problem, your gloves are nice though; are they home made?" He asked peering down at the gloves Anne and Mary had knitted for her. "Yeah, they were a gift by the girls; they love to knit." Celandine explained. They had instinctively walked into the coffee shop; Celandine, grimy and poor, and Owen, polished and well dressed. They sat down disregarding the strange looks of other customers. Celandine looked out the window toward the pale sky, the flat clouds suffocating the sun to a dull, white, light. She tried avoiding Owen's ardent stare. His eyes had a way of drilling into her and finding her darkest secrets and vulnerabilities. Turning her head reluctantly, she met his beautiful blue eyes and couldn't help but smile. 

"So, how'd the kids like the scones?' Asked Owen.

"Oh, they loved them; Buckley ate so many he almost got sick." Celandine chuckled. Owen laughed wholeheartedly. His laugh was pure and childlike, and made Celandine feel very warm and happy. The waiter came and went taking their order of two chai tea's and two large chocolate chip muffins. It was a comfortable silence for a while, the two just enjoying the company of each other.

"So, what's your favorite book?' Owen asked breaking the silence. Celandine thought hard about this one, she hadn't read many books, but the ones she did read were always really good. She got books from thrift stores when she had extra money, sometimes she got clearance books from supermarkets, she even stole some. Celandine loved all books; she loved reading and words and literature; so it's very hard for her to pick a favorite.