A/N: Suffering from writer's block while playing hours and hours of Tale of Two Towns, I had to write a Fanfiction about our irresistible bachelor. I said I was finished with Fanfiction but I do lurk about quite a bit. Much love, everyone and enjoy!
Bright Star
Initially, she thought he was a geek.
Approaching the flower stand, Lillian had no apprehension that Cam would be particularly unfriendly considering they were only acquainted. Instead, he gave her the impression that he was sincere and quietly hiding amongst bundles of freshly cut flowers with his nose buried in a book. Totally geeky.
As she stood in front of his flower stand, she waited for an acknowledgement. However he remained immersed between the pages of his book and Lillian remained awkwardly disregarded.
Leaning over the counter, Lillian said, "Good morning."
Cam's book lowered from his face a couple inches. The frame of his rectangular glasses glimmered in the summer sunshine. As his jade eyes clicked with hers, he sententiously said, "May I help you?"
"Actually, yes," Lillian began. From her rucksack she brandished three vibrant azure magic blue flowers, gazing at them in admiration. Its enthralling essence and grand petals had immediately caught her eye. "Would you put together a bouquet for me, pretty please?"
"Sure." Cam slid off his glasses and placed his book down. Then he grasped the flowers with his slender hands. His approving expression of the delicacies was written all over his face as he proceeded to snip unnecessary leaves from its stems.
While he gaze was diverted, Lillian was focused on the book. John Keats, she silently mused. Discreetly removing it from the counter, the curiosity sparked inside her. Her eyes skimmed the marked page. Its browning pages were filled with lines of endless poetry. With poetry never being her forte, it was a sight to see.
She must have made a noise of surprise because Cam asked briskly, "Is something wrong?"
"You like romantic poetry!"
That got his attention. Eyes flashing, he exclaimed, "Hey!" and made an attempt to snatch it from her grasp. Lillian instinctively recoiled and his fingertips grazed the spine. "I had my page saved!"
Lillian pointed at the opened page. "I saved it," she reassured him and then recited, "My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains…"
"I don't like poetry that much," Cam mumbled quickly. The rubicund hue of his cheeks said otherwise and Lillian couldn't resist holding back the slow smirk that crept on her face.
"I don't believe you," Lillian said. She added teasingly, "Shouldn't you be reading books about flowers?"
Cam scowled. He carefully tied the blue bouquet with a dainty pearly ribbon. The finished product emitted beauty with its accents of diminished white flowers. Lillian would have marveled if Cam didn't appear annoyed. "Are you really that biased?"
"So you don't read books about flowers?" she countered. She believed that everyone had to read books about their esteemed professions, from florists to doctors.
He raised an eyebrow but failed to offer a comment and they exchanged money for the desired bouquet. Resting the book where it belonged, she smiled at Cam. "Thank you. It's beautiful."
This earned her a slight nod and a slight look of satisfaction. "Anytime."
Then he smirked. It was complacent, almost teasing. "Are you giving that bouquet to a significant other?"
She was flustered. "Excuse me – these flowers are to decorate my home!"
Cam bowed at the waist. "Apologizes," he said, but the smirk remained on his face. "But shall I compare your secret lover to a summer's day?"
"Thou art more lovely and more temperate," Lillian said instinctively.
"Are you calling me more lovely than your secret lover?" Cam joked. "Geek."
Baffled Cam had seemingly extracted the word "geek" out of her mind and that he was being flirtatious with her, Lillian flushed. "No! I don't have a lover. A-A-And I'm not the geek here – you, you…Green thumb geek!"
Before Cam could superciliously counter her lame insult, Lillian whipped around and called, "Have fun with your romantic poetry!" She strode away from the flower stand with defiance, the bouquet in her arms. The sound of Cam's low chuckle continued to echo behind her.
"Stupid…little…cicada…Get back here!"
Lillian tore through the canopy of trees, lean branches scratching against her dirt stained skin. Amethyst eyes fixated on the desperately escaping chattering cicada, Lillian stumbled through disarrayed bushes and sweet smelling flowers.
She was bubbling with frustration. If only she could simply lay her hands on the critter, she could sell it for a satisfactory price.
The cicada decided to nestle amongst the branches of a tree few meters away. Lillian distinguished its shimmering copper wings through the summer green foliage. Crouching on a rock from a distance, she stared the cicada down.
It chattered.
Three…
Two…
One…
With a war-like roar, Lillian sprung off the rock, hands unfolding to snatch the bug off the branch in a defiant swipe. Her fingers grazed its body. It attempted to evade her. Little crystal wings extended, it soared up and away from her.
Then she was tumbling. Knees knocked against dirty and the grass tickled her arms. She collided with limbs. A strangled male cry sounded as her elbow smashed into someone's chest and then his chin and then her knee collapsed on his genital region and…
"You're insane!" he groaned as she rolled off her casualty.
"I am so sorry, I am so, so, so sorry," Lillian repeated frantically, her face turning redder by the second. Doing all she could to avoid his eye, she cried, "Cam! Are you alright?"
However, it was obvious that he was absolutely not all right. A look partially of pain and shock was twisted on his angular face. His glasses and beret were askew. Mortified, Lillian said, "It was an accident, I swear."
Cam said in a sad attempt to be lighthearted, "I'm pretty sure humans can't fly."
Lillian was not fazed. "Are you okay? Do I need to call the doctor?" she desperately questioned.
This time he rolled his eyes. "I'm fine. If I have testicular injuries, I will let you know as soon as possible."
Collapsing on the grass with a defeated grimace, Lillian announced, "I am done with everything."
"Unbelievable," he muttered, brushing the dusty footprints she had left on his jeans. "Maybe you should spend your Fridays not harassing people to your discretion."
Exasperated, Lillian said, "I'm sorry I didn't notice your hiding you under a tree."
He gave her a pointed look. "Maybe I wanted to be alone."
He procured the poetry book adjacent to his crossed legs. From last time she saw it, sticky notes were now standing in perpendicular fashion in hues of violets and blues. Smoothing another page in his lap, he propped it open. She watched his jade eyes avert from her back to his book.
"Do you always come here to read?"
"Are you stalking me?" Cam countered without glancing up.
She said hotly, "I would never! I'm just making conversation." For the seemingly umpteenth time that week, her cheeks burned. Cam was not the boy she would stalk, if ever.
His tone was heavy with disbelief. "So you accidentally jumped out of a bush and fell on me?"
"I was trying to catch a chattering cicada."
This earned her a hard and uncomfortable stare. "Oh," he said. "That makes sense. Sorry."
"No, I'm sorry," Lillian said and rose to her feet. "I should go since I'm probably bothering you and all."
"You're not."
"You said you wanted to be alone."
Nonchalantly, he patted the patch of grass next to him. "Actually, now that I know you're not stalking me, it's okay. Of course, only if you want to read poetry with me."
Reluctantly, Lillian sank at Cam's side, peering over his shoulder. Her back pressed against the rigid trunk and her calf lightly brushed against his. "Poetry isn't my forte," she told him.
Cam flipped the page and presented it to Lillian. She recognized it as the poem she had read out loud in their initial encounter earlier that week. Then in a mellifluous voice, he recited, "My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains. My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, or emptied some dull opiate to the drains one minute past…"
As he read, the expression on his face captivated her. Dissecting Keats all Cam seemed to see were the words. He engrossed himself deeper into the poetry, eyes eating up every line. The words floated off the page in capturing images. Drawing her knees to her chest, Lillian listened.
He spoke with tenderness, his words slow and melodious. It was filled with a golden richness and Lillian felt the warm fuzz inside her engaged with the poem.
She imagined sitting in a meadow of flowers, enveloped in the tranquility of nature alongside Cam. Escaping from the world with their resort in this pacifying calamity, she thought of spending the day together here. And they'd talk. And the occasional smile would rise to their faces.
"Past the near meadows, over the still stream, up the hill-side and now 'tis buried deep in the next valley-glades: Was it a vision, or a waking dream? Fled is that music: - do I wake or sleep?"
He finished with a final intake of the breath. At peaceful ease, they sat in bliss of the poem's effects. It was then Lillian could see why he adored romantic poetry and its breathtaking imagery. And in that moment, Cam became an adorable geek to her.
Lillian smiled. "I love that," she said. "All the girls must be in love with you."
Cam shook his head. "Not really."
"Then all the guys must be in love with you."
He chuckled. The expression on his face was of mild embarrassment. "I only like girls. Besides, no one wants to date a feminine guy."
She shrugged. "There's nothing wrong with being feminine if it's who you are."
She had captured his attention. Holding her gaze, he seemed amazed by her response and almost speechless. "Do you…I mean…would you…?"
Cam cleared his throat. "Would you want to date a feminine guy?" Realizing what he just implied, he corrected, "In general. I'm not asking you out."
Lillian sighed with relief. She replied, "It really depends on the personality. Also, if I like them, then I like them."
This seemed to satisfy Cam. His emerald eyes lit up and his lips curled into a grin. Eagerly Cam advised her, "If you like someone, give them flowers. Make them some of mine, though."
She laughed. "If my significant other likes flowers, I'll come to you, green-thumbed geek."
They exchanged genuine smiles.
At eleven-fifteen on Saturday morning the following week, three firm knocks sounded on the door. Clad in her pajamas and hair rumpled in tangles, Lillian padded towards the door to her house.
Standing at the entrance of her door was the grinning young face of the mail carrier. To her surprise, he was brandishing at least a dozen fresh sunflowers. Feeling engulfed by the gigantic bouquet, Lillian merely looked at the mail carrier in surprise.
"Happy birthday!" Dirk greeted. He extended his arms towards a flustered Lillian who reluctantly wrapped her hands around the base of the flowers.
"You didn't have to," Lillian said dumbfounded. She was scared to hold it, feeling that the slightest movement would cause the delicacy to collapse.
However, she admired the beautifully arranged bouquet. Sunflowers' petals were blooming towards the sunlight with a golden outstretch. Accents of blue and white hyacinths were nestled amongst the sunflowers. The smell that wafted from the bouquet was a heavenly fragrance.
Dirk smiled. "I didn't."
"What?"
"I wouldn't stray from my job," Dirk said. "Still got some things to deliver."
"Oh?" The sudden curiosity of the sender sparked Lillian. She twisted the bouquet in all directions, searching for a concealed note but there was none. "Then who is this from?"
"A secret admirer," he cheerfully answered although Lillian remained skeptical. He produced a note from his satchel folded twice and handed it to her.
"Thanks, Dirk," she gratefully said.
"I'll drop a gift for you on my way home today!" Dirk promised as he began to trudge down the path.
Lillian waved and eased the door shut. Quickly, she rested the sunflowers on her dining room table and began to open the note.
In slanted handwriting was written:
Lillian,
Bright star, would I were steadfast as thou art –
Not in lone splendor hung aloft the night
And watching, with eternal lids apart,
Like nature's patient, sleepless Eremite.
To feel forever its soft fall and swell,
Awake forever in a sweet unrest,
Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,
And so live ever – or else swoon to death.
Keats wrote this. I wish I had written it for you to show you that I'm not a simple green-thumbed geek.
May I treat you dinner in the café at seven p.m., in celebration of your birthday?
Yours truly,
Cam
After Lillian finished the letter, she could not deny the excitement bubbling inside her. She examined the sunflowers with endearing admiration.
"If you like someone, give them flowers," he had said. He had given her flowers. Which meant he liked her.
Swoon.
The funny thing was, she liked him too. She liked his cropped dirty blond hair and his jade eyes hiding under his beret. She adorned his honeyed tone when he had read poetry that summer afternoon until she had fallen in love with poetry too.
Most of all, she wanted to learn more about him. She wanted to ask how he day was. She wanted to know his favourite novels and his favourite flowers. She wanted to know his dreams and how he intended to achieve them.
And goddess, she wanted to have dinner with him tonight.
"Happy birthday to me," Lillian said with a gleeful smile.
As she prepared and began pacing her work throughout the day, she found the verses lingering in her mind. On her salted lips she kept whispering, "Bright star, would I were steadfast as thou art…"
A/N: John Keats is my favourite poet. The poems are called Ode to A Nightingale and Bright Star. Thanks for my best friend for buying the book for my birthday so applause to him! And applause to John Keats for writing tantalizing fiction. Without further ado, thank you for reading and possibly drop a review if you enjoyed it! (Or didn't enjoy it, which is perfectly understandable.)