𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞

Wardrobe Stowaway

Florence awoke to the sound of a soft knock at her door.

"Come in." She'd muttered groggily.

The door swung wide and she was greeted with a cheery Clair. Expecting Mintie, she drew her covers up, concealing herself. She was only clothed in her thin nightgown.

"I can- I can leave." Clair sputtered, backing out of the room.

"No, no. Come in." Florence reassured him, lowering her covers as confirmation.

The bounce back in his step, he re-entered the room. Moving over to her bedside, he scooted a wooden chair over. Her eyes were level with his waist, she propped her head up on her hands to see him better. She could tell he was jumpy, she giggled at his mannerisms. Protruding a piece of paper from behind his back, he chuckled at himself. Florence stared at him in confusion.

"Oh!" He exclaimed, twirling the paper around so she could see his now familiar swooping penmanship.

"Well, what is it?" She inquire.

"A story." He stated, eyes still alive.

"Oh, is it now?" Florence taunted, sitting herself up.

"Yes, but it's about something special." He announced.

Florence felt her heart flutter in her chest, as brief as the flicker of a dying flame. Clair shoved the paper towards her, and she hesitantly accepted it. Flipping it around she she could read, Clair heard the sharp intake of her breath. His mouth dawned into a smile as she read before him. 

Clair recounted the previous night, placing himself in his chair, words flowing from his fountain pen. Without even changing into dry clothes, word poured from his subconscious. He watched from the window as the sun rose, splashing everything in a pale pink color before finally tacking itself high into the sky. He'd written about Florence, he'd said he could write a novel about her before. He wrote the way she spoke, the glint of sunlight in her eyes, the delicate flick of her fingers as she read. He'd compared her to flowers, sunlight, music. By the end, Florence's cheeks were hot, and she felt the unfamiliar sting of tears in the back of her throat.

"Damn you, Clairence." Florence stated, not daring to take her eyes off the paper.

"Do you like it?" He asked timidly.

Florence swore under her breath, "Clair how could I not absolutely adore this?" She exclaimed, frustrated that he didn't seem to understand his own talent.

She heard his sigh of relief.

"When did you write this."

"Last night."

"Last night?" She echoed.

"After we returned." He answered calmly.

"Clairence how late were you up? Did you get any rest at all?" Clair noticed she sounded like a mother scolding her child, he smiled.

"I didn't sleep a wink, but it was worth it." His voice rang out, Florence practically melted into her sheets.

"It's beautiful." Marveled Florence.

"May I keep it?" She bit her lip, awaiting his answer.

"Of course you may, I wrote it for you." He exclaimed, almost as if it were the most normal thing ever.

Reluctantly, Florence averted her gaze back to his heavenly face. He gave her the smallest raise of an eyebrow in return. Florence couldn't help but feel truly in love with the boy. Her eyes widened as she realized what she'd just thought.

"What's wrong?" Clair asked worriedly.

"No, nothing. It's wonderful." She hastily answered.

"Why did you- what's wrong?" He pressed, placing his hand lightly atop hers.

Florence jerked her head to face him, "Nothing, I was only thinking." She explained.

"Thinking about what?" Clair asked once more.

Florence let out a sigh of exasperation, words spilling over her lips unintentionally.

"God, Clair, you. What else could I possibly be thinking about right now? What other thoughts would provide nearly as fascinating as you? Why on earth would anyone desire to ever even be thinking of anything but you?" She breath out, shocked at her own words.

Clair steadied his eyes on her, the rest of the room dissolving around them. He could practically hear the wondrous beating of her heart. Clair was rendered speechless, his mouth forming shapes but unable to speak. Florence's eyes flitted to his hand still on hers. A knock at the door dreadfully interrupted them. Florence lifted her chin, looking towards the door.

"Mintie?"

"Yes." Came the woman's soft old voice.

"Oh, just one moment!" Florence cried.

She stood up quickly, placing her hands on Clair's back. She shoved him over to her wardrobe, indicating with silent frantic gestures that he should wedge himself behind it. Eyes alight with mischief, he squeezed between the wall and wardrobe.

"Sorry, just come right in." Florence piped, straightening herself up.

Mintie entered, giving her a warm smile. She hobbled straight over to the wardrobe as usual, getting dangerously close to Clair. He drew in a breath as the maid neared. Florence bit her lip to contain a smile. Mintie picked out a lovely jade colored dress, Florence liked how the wrists tapered off not in a straight line, rather triangle shaped cuts. As she moved towards Mintie to get dressed, a realization dawned on her. Her cheeks flushed bright red as she realized she'd be getting dressed with Clair in the room. Sure, Mintie had seen her undergarments, but she was Mintie!

Florence's hand grazed over the fine gown before slowly picking it up and moving over to the vanity. Here she was mainly out of Clair's line of sight, she supposed, or hoped he would close his eyes even if she wasn't. Florence quickly shucked off her night clothes, and Mintie helped her fasten on her dress and corset. Mintie, as always made some remark about how Florence looked wonderful in this dress. Clair silently agreed with her.

After what seemed like eons, Florence's hair was swept back into a tight bun, not her usual curls. She'd left the estate last night before she could even put in her rags. Florence shoved her feet into her slipped and thanked Mintie as she hurried out of the room. The moment the door shut, Florence heaved a sigh of relief. Rushing over to see Clair wiggle his way out from behind the wardrobe she giggled.

"Oh Clair, I'm so sorry." She exclaimed between soft laughs.

"It's quite alright, I enjoy a thrill." He announced brightly.