Through Adversity To The Stars

Chapter 6 - Parted Lips

It happened to be very rare that I actually, genuinely enjoyed having dinner with Remy and his parents. Our parents used to manage by themselves, getting along just perfectly. In my eyes; me and Remy took a little longer to get used to each other's company. It seemed like a weird shield around us from actually connecting, that is until Remy invited me to a party in town; the most terrifying yet amazing experience I had ever had. Other than falling in love, that is.

At the dinners Mother and Father fell in love with, however made me feel as though I had to keep my personality to myself. Being as blank as the guests seemed to be the best option. Remy was different from his parents - their polite, quiet manner lingered with my parents'. He, Remy, always sat opposite me, always with the same eyes glancing at me every so often and always the same small smile he gave during.
"Oh Remy darling, can you remember when I planted that tree in the back garden?" The most random question ever was presented by his mother - possibly the most awkward woman ever to be with for more than half an hour.

Remy's eyes diverted from his then clear plate, "not exactly," meaning - not at all. The crickets had started a while back, they only seemed more noticeable as they cut the awkward atmosphere with their soothing sound.
His mother's eyes lingered on him for a second, expecting the memory to come back to him. It didn't, making the situation seem to drag it's uncomfortableness out even more than it should of been.

Father swallowed his food quickly, moving the subject on without everything going completely silent for the third time that evening. "Elizabeth, did you get on well with Alexander the other day?" The question made me question myself; we were nothing more than acquaintances, though it seemed at the time. Even if I had wanted more, such as a distant friend, it seemed to be furthest I would get with him. I didn't mind, of course I wouldn't mind.

Remy's eyes followed up to mine, "yes. Perhaps I'm not his sort of friend," throughout the rest of the day out with Alexander, we seemed to bounce of each subject as if were we hosts of a show.
I picked at the remaining food on my plate, intending to leave it but make it appear that I was still interested in the dish.

Mother held her finger to her mouth as she began to talk, finishing her last mouthful of the evening, "don't be silly, Elizabeth. He seemed delighted to finally spend time with someone." Someone; it could of been with anyone. I kept the thought that he was going to leave us at the back of my mind, not letting his good behaviour excuse him from my predictions.

Mr Moreau set his cutlery down on his plate in a line as so did I, a respectable time to finish. "That's right, a young actor in France! Est-il un grand star à travers le monde?" Without realising it always appeared that he got caught between the English world and the French world when speaking.

Mother never took any notice, it all seemed the same. "Absolument! Elizabeth a lu un livre dont il a joué le personnage." I picked out what I could, leaving the rest of the unknown words to spill into the atmosphere.

"Excusez-moi, j'ai besoin d'utiliser les toilettes," Mrs Moreau pushed her tiny body away from the table, giving the smallest smile someone could possibly give. Even in French I could sense the moment of gaucherie.
I was desperate to fleet into the midst of night, not letting anything hold me back - Mother nor Father. I wanted the wind to catch my breath and hold it for a second as I took another one, thinking over and over again about the day in town, wanting to relive it before it was too late.
A moment too late I had come back to reality, with Mrs Moreau already away and everyone's plates cleared. I felt as though the dream I had imagined had happened; I restarted it, Alexander and I had a conversation that was more in depth than expected.

Father put on a smile that almost seemed as real as the ones that came from Mrs Moreau, "to the drawing room." Everyone pushed back from the table, everyone except for me. I related that room to Alexander, the room where everything felt off with him.

"Hey," Remy spoke the first words he had uttered that evening to me, both of us recognising this is the time we could relax and detach ourselves from our parents world. As at night, everything seemed surreal in all its beauty. The stars weren't necessarily bright but the lights from the drawing room made up for it.
We took ourselves there - I sat in the same place before with Alexander, only Remy taking the spot. My eyes followed over to the parents, instantly telling that Mother and Father had gotten on well with someone other than the Moreaus - Mrs Saunders.

The reminiscing silence stuck between both me and Remy before the soft music Father played on the piano, entertaining Mother and the Moreaus.
I couldn't divert my eyes from the outside, the doors as wide as a week ago. Smoke appearing out of no where from the outside. "I'll be right back," I nudged Remy slightly, not interfering with Father's amazing copy of Brian Crain's Softness And Light.

I made my way outside, the dress I had been laid out to wear was spilling behind me, the loose fabric fluttering in the wind. Alexander; the same boy with messier hair and a cigarette in his mouth. He hadn't seen me and it seemed better to watch than interact with someone I was so scared to do so with.
Even in the dark, I wanted my eyes to keep on him - no distractions if only the crickets. I no longer felt the need to protect my nearly bare arms from the pesky, French mosquitoes.
Alexander's head turned to understand it was me who was hovering to the side of him. The metal bench he sat on had pieces of wisteria tangled around its being. The rust sat nicely on the arms, adding to the effect that it was something to be remembered. "Sorry, I kind of wanted to talk to you." His head returned to facing the end of the garden where I had first seen him.

"By not coming to the door?" My smile was so bare that it seized to exist. This time I didn't mind, the light wasn't facing me if I looked at him.

He nodded, taking the cigarette away from his parted lips, letting his head rock to face the floor. "Do you?" He held the cigarette up to me, his actions asking for themselves.

I lied, "no, not at all." My eyes kept away from him as long as possible, only for them to continue to his knee that was a couple inches away from mine. I found it merely impossible not to not obey to my longing eyes, to allow them to have what they wanted.
It almost felt calming to sit with nothing to discuss, even if I did think it was possible to say anything to Alexander. The possiblities of that idea going any further than what it already was seemed ages away - he was so open yet so closed off. I wanted past that, I wanted to explore who he was.

"I don't get how you are," it didn't seem correct even though it was. The question was out of nowhere, like I didn't have time to fumble for an answer in my mind. "I mean," he turns to me, face directly in front of mine, even if mine lowered slightly, "you're a quiet one, Lizzie. Why do I feel the need to pull you out of your shell?" It's the closest I've ever been to him. His face was pointing downwards but his eyes still on me, nose still rosey pink, cigarette smoke still dancing with itself, the world still slowing down, music still blaring, crickets still singing and heart still beating.

I avoided the shrug I wanted to give in response because if so I would regret ruining the eye contact I was desperate to maintain. In all its simplicity, a furrow of the eyebrows and parting of the lips was not enough to ruin anything. That was until the cigarette became too hard for him to resist, pulling away and leaning back in his seat, leaving me in the same position. "I guess because you are the opposite?"

That made his smile come back, "perhaps, maybe I need to find myself before I answer that." His head rocks round to look up at me, the colour of his eyes no longer being clear. "Have you? Found yourself, I mean."

"I -," didn't necessarily know. As much as I wanted to believe that I had, the words of finding youself didn't match up with me, "couldn't tell you." I slouched as he did, hair getting trapped between the metal and my back. The music stopped and applause filled its space in sound.

He kept looking at me, I could feel it, even as I watched the stars and clouds travel by as if we were the only things still connected. Alexander breathed a laugh as he began, "we can do it together," the whisper pressed up against my cheek only for him to turn his head back up to the sky through my wanting for it to stay.