𝑰𝑵𝑲 • 𝑻𝒆𝒘𝒌𝒆𝒔𝒃𝒖𝒓𝒚 / 𝑳𝒐𝒖𝒊𝒔 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒓𝒊𝒅𝒈𝒆

An Invitation

2 years ago

The snow beneath her crunched and condensed as her boot clad feet carried her through the manor's now bare garden. The bushes and hedges had been reduced to nothing more than skeletons of their summer selves by the frosty winter chill. Their healthy leaves turning to a dried, crispy brown in the span of only a few weeks. Florence rushed towards the treehouse, she was late.

Ever since she had arrived at Basilwether, she and Tewkesbury would meet at the tree house after lunch, every other day. She had a plethora of demanding chores to complete before sundown but managed to make time for him by waking up extra early to get a head start. Once she had read through every book in his chest, he would lend her any books he managed to smuggle out of the grand library on the ground floor of the manor, sneaking it past his uncle who often used the space as his own personal study. In return, she would give him company and simply be his friend, there weren't many young people roaming the estate and the boy frequently found himself longing for someone to talk to, someone who would understand. Of course, Florence would have been his friend regardless of whether or not he had a book to offer her, she wouldn't admit it though, too headstrong and independent to do so, but she cared for him a great deal.

He meant a lot to her. Not only was he her first friend at the manor, but he also owned the manor. And it didn't mean a blooming thing to him. It was almost like he couldn't see her well worn clothes or unpainted face, determined not to let their class divide affect the relationship. Reaching the base of the snow coated oak, Florence started up the rope, struggling amongst the many layers of scarves and blankets wrapped loosely around her body, weighing her down. She didn't own a warm enough jacket, and instead resorted to piling whatever covering she could find onto her short frame in a poor attempt to retain some heat.

Her breathing getting more and more heavy with each heave up the rope, she called out to the boy she already knew had been waiting for her for at-least half an hour now. "A little help here!" She pleaded, her voice cracking lightly from all the strain on her lungs. She was not unfit by any means, many of her chores consisting of physical labor, but the combination of textile weight, cold air nipping at her rose tinted nose, and the ghastly temperature freezing up her muscles mounted to a solid amount of trouble. Without responding, Tewkesbury peered over the edge and extended a hand to her. Upon getting a steady grasp of hers, he pulled her up onto the creaky floor of the structure.

Leaving her gasping for air, splayed out on the wooden floor panels, he walked over to the small hammock that they had strung up together earlier that year, retrieving a small and weathered book from its cloth. The book had a leather cover with small water stains all over it, causing some of its pages to curl slightly, and the book didn't close properly, all kinds of flowers creating small gaps in its folds, expertly preserved and sun dried. He held the book out towards Florence and finally spoke, "Happy birthday Flo" A sweet smile taking over his face and reaching his eyes, his floppy hair falling into his face, making him run his fingers through its strands, brushing it back. He was nervous, and that could be seen in the almost unnoticeable tremor in his hands. But Florence noticed, and it made her heart quiver.

"You remembered." She spoke quietly, in slight disbelief. "Of course I remembered, just like I do every year Flo." He shook his head and laughed lightly. This would happen every year. Florence would display the same amount of shock in him remembering her birthday, never expecting him to, he just always did, and no exception was made for her 14th birthday. A gift would be given and her level of gratitude would never waver, always just satisfied with the knowledge that he cared enough to mark up December 17th as her day.

She carefully took the book from his hands, holding it out in front of her and reaching for the ribbon arbitrarily tied around it in a cross. Tewkesbury's hand shot out from behind him, clasping hers and removing it from the string. "Not now, not in front of me." He said, slightly embarrassed. He noticed her hands still in his and quickly dropped them down to his sides. "Read it later, when I'm not here." He smiled at the floor, too frazzled to meet her eyes who were staring at him in confusion. He rubbed his nape, his head bowing and arm flexing as he did so. Turning around and heading back over towards the hammock, fiddling with the rings on his fingers as he spoke.

"I um, I- I was wondering if you where going to the uh, the Christmas ball." He said, tentative and weary, impatiently awaiting her response. "Of course I'm going, I'm supposed to be serving the drinks aren't I?" She mocked with a chuckle, smiling as she looked over at him, his back still facing her as he shook his head at his own stupidity, trying to think of what to say next.

"Yes, right, of course." He shut his eyes tightly in frustration, not being able to articulate all of a sudden. "Well, maybe, if you'd like that is, you'd accompany me? to the party?" He held his breath, turning back around to face her. She was staring straight at him, taken aback by his offer. She almost accepted, wanting to go with him, but then glancing at his full figure, looking him up and down, she saw his attire. Shined boots, smart dress pants, a coat tailored to fit him perfectly, and his healthy, well-fed, and pale face, hanging on to her next words, the suspense urking him. Looking down at her own clothes, the layers and layers of old scarves, blankets, and her boots which were reaching the end of their lives, she was reminded of who she was, shocked back into the reality that, it wouldn't be right. She concluded that he didn't know what he was saying, that he just wanted her to be there with him, and she would be there anyways so frankly, his invitation was unnecessary.

"I can't, I'll be working, and your grandmother, she will be expecting me to serve. I'll still be there, we could still spend some time together, I just-" She said quickly, words flying out of her mouth, trying to explain to him where she stood, and why she would have to decline his offer.

"I understand Flo. Don't worry about it." A pained smile rising onto his disappointed face. Trying to hide the fact that he wasn't happy with her answer.

"I'm sorry T, I can't-" She pushed further, trying to apologize for the predicament she was in.

Upon hearing the pet name, Tewkesbury's mood lightened and his expression softened, the crease of his eyebrows smoothing out. "I know." He said, bringing her into a warm embrace to calm her down and get her to stop blabbering on about the uncomfortable subject. His arms wrapping around her waist, hers around his neck, standing on her toes as not to drag him downwards. He hummed peacefully in satisfaction, enjoying her touch, and she smiled slightly, glad to know that he was happy once again, and not hung up on her rejection to his invitation.