Beautiful, like Dirt
Pierre x Chelsea · She was apparently expecting something. He just didn't know if it was a kiss or not.
------
"Hey, Pierre!" the boy shouted out. "Open up!"
Pierre grumbled, and looked towards his left to the small wooden door, contemplating on letting the two village kids in or letting them wail. They'd been there for at least thirty minutes, Pierre figured, and they didn't seem to even budge from the spot. He could also feel their small entities pounding hard against him in a move they had perfected— the glomp.
Of course, he himself was not on the taller side of things, and barely adding in at four-seven, he was considerably short for a legal. Turning eighteen just a few weeks ago, it wasn't looking to be the best year of his life yet, but he was willing to take risks for it.
Except his plan didn't involve letting in the only children of the town, who were practically strangers, in his nice clean house.
Plus, there was the matter that Pierre was actually trying to do something at the moment. Being an eighth-generation Gourmet had its ups and downs, but he enjoyed his line of work very much. Though drastically different from the others with his small stature and fiery temper, he was often given a first glance and tossed away. The other Gourmets acted as if he were but a novice.
—Or someone looking exactly as a child.
It wasn't his fault the kids in the village mistook him for one, but he guessed they had reason to. Strangely, it wasn't Pierre's fault he was so damn short. Or that he had a baby face. Or was it that he sounded like one…?
Pierre sighed as he stopped whisking the bowl; the concoction looked about ready anyway. His gaze adverted towards the wooden door again, and he wondered if the kids had stalked home. The dead silence rendered the verdict, and he smiled happily to himself. Humming a tune, he cracked open some eggs and shifted over to his large kitchen.
"Pierre!" a girl's voice shouted, and he immediately recognized it as the female child. He panicked. They weren't going to leave, it seemed. "Come on! We're going to play house, and you're going to be our child!"
Pierre drew in a deep breath, but stayed, holding whisk in one hand and bowl in the other. His foot repeatedly tapped the linoleum floor— something he did when something was grating his nerves. Previously coming to this island, he didn't do it as much.
The island itself was shabby. Bland buildings stood on dirt roads, and the people were roughed; they had a sort of charm to them, but they didn't hold interest long enough for Pierre to care, and that's just what he did. He wanted; no, he needed, to add a sense of sophistication to this place, a sense of value to this worthless dump.
"Pierre!"
Oh, and those kids.
"I'm coming," he half-yelled, half-whispered, and an exasperated sigh escaped his lips, stomping his small feet and dragging himself slowly to the door.
"Yay!" they both cheered, and Pierre could almost hear them getting ready to pounce on him the minute he opened the door.
"Oh, hello there!" a new voice entered the scene, and Pierre quickly pressed his ear against the wooden door. He squinted at nothing in particular, trying to make out the voice to a person, but to no avail. The voice belonged to a female, and in his ears, her voice was quite heavenly.
"I'm new to the island! My names' Chelsea. What're you doing all alone out here? Waiting for the door to open?"
Pierre jolted, remembering that the door was still locked and he looked like more of a pedophile or a stalker or something creepy along those veins. He gripped the doorknob and tugged lightly, peeking his ruby eyes out the doorway. The children flooded to him and gave him a well deserved glomp, crashing him to the floor. They laughed and stood up, running the opposite way and leaving Pierre and the stranger alone. Awkward silence filled in quickly as 'Chelsea' helped him up, smiling slightly.
"Uh, hi," Pierre muttered, scratching his head and vaguely swaying his right arm. This was another thing he did when he was completely and utterly nervous— at the sight of a cute girl.
The girl wore a plain yellow shirt; it's slightly dulled color fading away with the bright sun. Her denim shorts were equally tattered, and her shoes looked almost like the color of the dirt she was standing upon. A red bandanna hid her short red tresses, but it was her bright blue eyes that got him.
They were the color of the ocean, and even though he was pretty much sick of its real counterpart, he could gaze into those eyes for days. Sure, there wasn't much to this girl, but there was a certain something that held his attention. Way longer than it was supposed to. He didn't get it. She was dull, boring, and threadbare. Yet he couldn't tear his flustered face from her direction.
"Hehe, hello," she waved slightly, and she put her hands behind her back. "Saved you, didn't I?"
Pierre tilted his head, and crossed his arms. "Huh?"
"You looked about ready to shoot those kids."
"Fantastic. You're a lifesaver," his face picked up with a grin, and he shifted his right foot in the dirt. Something he did, yet again, when he was absolutely hooked.
She laughed, her hands darting up to her lips. Her eyes twinkled in the sun, but it could have been his fascination reflected in them.
"Anyway, I'll be going now. See you around…?"
He nodded, but blushed when she was apparently expecting something.
She stood there, blinking. He began shifting his foot again and swaying his arm. He must have looked outright stupid, jiggling half his body, but he couldn't help it. Chelsea stared at him with a pleading expression, a small frown on her lips. He blinked twice.
What did she want…? Did she…?
He took a hasty step forward, his arm and leg completely stopping, but his heart racing. He wasn't sure what he was doing at this point, but it might have been the sweet perfume that eradiated from her. He gently placed his lips on her cheek, and immediately jolted back, blushing like a madmen and breathing like a bull. He took a few seconds to realize what he did. He just kissed her. What's more was that the pleading expression on her face simply turned into confusion. Not the best sign.
"Umm…" she mumbled, her cheeks tinting rose. Her hand automatically lifted to her cheek, two fingers tracing the spot he had just touched.
"Wha— I'm… I don't know…" Pierre stumbled over his sentences, and pretty soon he began muttering phrases like 'What-sorry-don't-know' and 'So-sorry-what-don't-sorry'. Through the midst of tripping over his tongue, his eyes did catch hers. Frequently.
"What…?"
"I'm sorry! I thought… you wanted… because you looked at me and…! Oh god…"
"Oh! I was… I was just asking for your name! But… uhh…"
Pierre blinked. Of course "See you around…?"didn't mean 'molest me'. He was quite confused, and this slip up made him want to crawl under his skin and hide. His heart stopped beating for a while, and he pretty much felt like an ass.
"Uhm, thanks?" she whispered. Her face was still red, and her eyes looked away. "I'm—" she cleared her throat. "I'll see you around!"
For dramatic effect, she took a step backwards.
"I'll see you around … "
Pierre waited for her to finished her sentence. He tapped his foot, momentarily forgetting his accident before. But just momentarily.
"Oh jeez, I still don't know your name!" she exasperated, poking her fingers together in embarrassment.
"Pierre. Pierre Gourmet!"
"I'm Chelsea."
"Oh. Yeah. Nice— name…" he gulped.
Her face flickered with red, and her cheeks turned pink again. She closed up the negative space between them and shifted her right foot on the dirt. Then he noticed her right arm started swaying. He didn't pick up on things easily, but when she said—
"See you around…?"
—and gave him a pleading look; it didn't take much for him to understand what she meant. He grabbed her hand, inching closer to her cheek. He thought her beautiful.
He learned then that dull can be beautiful, and as he placed his soft lips on her skin, all her imperfections washed away and he smiled. He gazed into her serene eyes and smiled. He thought them beautiful.
When he pulled back, he couldn't help but smile at the dirt they had dug up by their right feet respectively. He thought it beautiful.
The dirt, no matter how plain, dull, and useless he thought of it beforewill always be beautiful in his eyes forevermore.
------
Pierre is adorable and I can't wait for HM: Island so I can marry him already:D
Mwauha
Reviews are greatly appreciated and fuel my writing. Please review!