A/N: I just had to write something, okay! Ha. This isn't really meant to be good…or edited. Just something to pass the time while homework is waiting. Possible Chalak's (idk what the ship name is…but I like this one…) first informal meeting. Nothing special. Ill plan on writing better things later~
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this story or the original show~
Christie could feel the warm sun brush against her skin through her closed eyes. It was always warm in her meadow. No matter what the weather was like in the rest of the town, Christie liked to believe that her meadow was different. It was a place of peace and stillness. It was a place of quiet.
Taking in a deep breath, Christie remembered the smells of the flowers and dandelions that scattered themselves around the outskirts of town. Within the crowded streets of the town, wildly spurring through the hustle and bustle of the markets there was little room for beauty. Her mother always hated being in the streets of the town, she much rather escape to the meadow. Their meadow.
It was a place to escape the boring, day in and day out droll of the town to a place that was special. It was magical. Or at least that's what her mother used to say. They would wait, hiding in the tall grass, watching for fairies to peek out from under the flowers. Her mother said they would only come out if they held very still, and closed their eyes. Christie never understand how she were supposed to see the fairies if the young girl wasn't allowed to open her eyes. But, her mother would always say that didn't matter. Seeing wasn't always believing. If Christie believed hard enough, anything was possible.
Christie knew that no amount of believing could bring her mother back.
Clouds passed in front of the sun casting a shadow over the girl's face. Stretching her arms out, and arching her back against the ground, Christie slowly opened her eyes fully expected to see the sky. But, what she say was something far different.
She let out a scream; quickly shuffling herself back away from the pale man that had appeared out of nowhere.
"What are you doing?" Alak Tarr asked, his eyebrow raised in confusion.
"What are you doing?!" She spat back. For a moment, she did not move. Her chin tilted upwards looking up at the boy. His skin was pale white against the blue sky, and his hair stuck out in every direction, almost as if he had forgotten to brush it that morning. Shuffling herself to her feet, Christie wrapped her arms around her chest. "Well! What are you doing?" She asked again, with a bit of false bite to her voice.
"I asked you first!" Alak replied, moving his hands to his hips.
"Well…" Christie wasn't sure how to come back from that. He had a point. "Well, I wasn't the one being creepy!"
"Laying out, alone, in the middle of an abandoned field isn't creepy?"
Christie opened her mouth, but quickly closed it while trying to think of something to say. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. She had never spoken to the Castithan boy before, but her father spoke often of his father. She knew that he was not to be trusted. "No! It's not." She spat back, straightening her posture to bring herself to her full height. "What are you doing in my meadow anyway?"
Alak snorted, "Your meadow? You can't own a meadow."
"Yes. I can." Christie didn't like his smile. In fact, she didn't like anything about him. His teeth were too white and his smile was too perfect and his eyes were too captivating. It all screamed 'shouldn't be trusted'.
"Right. Whatever." Alak rolled his eyes as he pushed back the girl.
"Wait, where are you going?" Christie called after him, her arms still tightly wrapped around herself.
"Sorry, mom. I..." He spat sarcastically. Christie could tell that he was about to add another comment to his remark, but he quickly shut his mouth. The boy's hands dug deep into his pockets as his shoulders hutched forward. "…sorry."
Everyone in the town knew about her mother, and ever since they all tiptoed around her like she was made of glass. She expected it from just about everyone, but she was caught off guard as the Castithan boy tried to take her feelings into account when he spoke.
Silence fell between the two as a strong breeze blew in from the mountains, bringing the fragrant smell of the flowers with it. She had never thought that the boy would care about her feelings, especially with the way her father spoke about his race.
"It's fine." She whispered, lowering her own hands into her pockets. She laughed slightly as she dragged her boot through the chalky dirt around the base of the flowers. "Just get out of my meadow, okay?"
For a second, Alak looked taken aback. His hands went up in automatic defense before he realized her tone. His smile spread and his eyes closed as his laugh filled the field. "Well…" He dragged out the word, as he brought his hand to cup his chin. "I think you're just going to have to make me."
Laughter filled the meadow as the two grabbed handfuls of dandelions and launched them at once another. That had been the first time laughter had echoed off the trees and through the wind since her mother's death. Besides, the meadow could never be the same without laughter. Laughter, her mother said, was what fueled the fairies and gave them their wings.