So this is a mindless drabble, created solely from the misbehaving feels that cannot wait until tomorrow night. It doesn't make much sense and usually I don't post this kind of thing but as there is a distinct lack of Poldark Fanfiction- something I was terribly disappointed at- so I decided to post this anyway. I have never written a one-shot that end up being posted, so please be kind I just couldn't help wondering what it was Demelza thought after she left Nampara. I am thinking up ideas for an ongoing fiction so that should be up in a few days. I am quoting from memory so it will not be exact, and I haven't written accents in because it would go terribly wrong.

"Cornflowers are like that."

Demelza almost wished she had retaliated. She didn't know what she would have said- doubtless it would have been foolish- but she had been too shocked to even respond with a "If you say so, Ma'am"

All morning she had been playing in the fields- and watching him work, remembering the night before- the kisses and the moans and the happiness…

And then she had decided it was time to do something- cook a pie, perhaps? And headed back, skipping all the way, her cornflowers in hand, and in her hair, not a care in the world.

She knew he had ridden off. She had expected it to be to the mine, or to Trenwith.

But she had opened the door- and there he was, smiling so large the sun would have trouble competing in the company of Lady Elizabeth. And then he had been ashamed- to even look at her. He had always treated her right, but suddenly she felt so very, very beneath him.

It stung. She had loved him for most of the time she had worked for him- he had treated her kindly, almost as an equal. Complimented her, given her clothes and voiced his troubles to her.

Of course, she always knew he had loved Elizabeth. There was that expression you could spot on him the moment she entered a room- as if he were complete. Demelza had got the story from the other servants in the market place, and needless did not having as glowing opinion of the woman he so admired.

But she had just so hoped that what they had done had meant something. That he wasn't just using her for consolation, that if she had of been another girl he wouldn't have done it.

But she knew now that wasn't true. If he had a different kitchen maid, exactly the same events would have unfolded.

Or perhaps not. She mused, kicking herself. Another maid might've been smarter than me and not agreed to it.

Because where was she now? No job, no home. She couldn't go back and be treated as if nothing had happened, or, even worse be ignored by Ross because of the awkwardness. She couldn't go to her father- she wouldn't. And so now she was carrying the small amount that she owned on her back and walking in the most hopeful direction she could think of.

But it had been wonderful- when he kissed her she could feel how desperate he was, how much he needed her. After two years of admiring him, she couldn't resist. To feel as if he wanted her back.

But he didn't want her. She had just wanted someone. And she would bet her life that he had wished more than anything for that person to be his precious Lady Elizabeth- who had done nothing but break his heart, over and over again.

What did she think would happen? That he would admit his undying, everlasting love for her? Even she was smarter than that.

Her analysing of the events was getting her nowhere, and she started to sing under her breath. She would be better off where she could focus and do her work well, instead of fantasizing over the master of the house who didn't seem to return her feelings anyway.

"I engaged you for two years. What do you mean by running away?"

Demelza turned hastily, not believing that she could've have heard the voice properly. She had been walking for an hour or two- If she had expected him to chase her at all she would have imagined it to be a lot earlier on her journey.

"Sir-"

"Have you not grown used to the house? And the work?" He said, as if he had no idea why she would leave. She shook her head, exasperated he could not even try to understand.

"And my moods." He said that differently, although it didn't play across his face at all, He said it teasingly. "Have you not known what to give me before I even ask?"

It was too much. "Yes, sir, but I just thought… After what happened-"

"You thought you would no longer be my servant." He said it matter-of-factly, as if accusing her of something.

She looked down at her feet, feeling ashamed despite herself. "Not from choice, sir."

Then she met his eyes.

He was a few feet away, and so she could not see into them directly, but she could feel their emotion.

He was sad to see her go. Why that was, she didn't know and didn't want to try and understand, in fear she would again disappoint herself.

"But you're right. You can no longer be my servant."

So he was letting her go. Where, she didn't know. Perhaps he didn't care. But a pang in her chest knew that wasn't true- Despite everything, she knew he cared for her as at least a person. He would never leave her to fend for herself.

She glanced up again, and saw the tiniest hint of a smile, and felt herself relax.

Despite what his feelings for her- or lack of them, she trusted him. As he offered her his hand to help her onto the horse, he held onto it a bit longer than usual, and gently wrapped his arms around her waist so he could hold onto the reins.

Demelza didn't know where they were going, but she knew he would keep her safe.

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