"Hey, Hugh, thanks for helping me with that tea party! Claire was so sad that Olive got the flu and wasn't allowed to join!"
"No problem, anything for you Bronwyn! You're too kind to refuse!"
After hearing the end of their brief conversation, Fiona looked up from the dirt and the plant resting in between her knees, to see High and Bronwyn rounding the corner of the house, and Bronwyn leaning in to give the boy a kiss on the cheek.
It wasn't much, and could be counted as nothing but friendly, but just seeing it made her heart ache. Even if they were just friends, she could tell they'd make an amazing and cute couple if they decided to give it a chance.
She didn't want Bronwyn and Hugh, because, as much as she hated to admit it, she wanted to give it a chance with Hugh, and just seeing him interact with the other girls painted her mind in the ugly colours of jealousy and spit.
Several times a day, and especially after witnessing things like this, which, unfortunately, happened a lot, she had to remind herself that she had no right to be jealous when she had no claim on the boy. He was amazing and cute, yes, and she was madly in love with him, too, but she'd never told him and as such had no claim.
"Hey, Fe, what you doing?" Suddenly, Hugh is kneeling down by her side, oblivious to the dort gathering on his knees and just focusing on her face, looking as though there was nothing else in the entire world to look at.
She smile, because it warm her up on the inside to see him looking that way, making her stomach burn and feel like a furnace heated up to a million degrees.
He was her everything, and she cared more for him, than she cared for the Headmistress Miss Peregrine herself.
Though none of the other children had anything against her, and was more than comfortable enough around her to force her to play with them every now and then, her impairment of not speaking made it hard to form any deeper connections with anyone. Anyone but Hugh, that was. The clever boy had soon after she'd joined them turned out to know sign language, and he'd shamelessly used it to communicate with this new girl of whom he'd known nothing, but wished to learn more.
She hoped he wanted to learn more about her.
"Fe? Fiona? Fiona Frauenfelt are you okay?" It take her a moment to realise that she's zoned off, closed her eyes and entirely disappeared from the world, but she has, and as she slowly opens them again she let Hugh's honey-dripping voice guide her back to reality, green eyes meeting as Hugh continued to look at her with worry. "Please Fe, just say something." He is gripping her pale hands in his, but now he let them go in order for her to be able to 'speak' to him, assuring that him that she is indeed alright.
Fiona can't help but feel warm and touched by the honest worry that surround the boy, worry that was directed at her out of all people. "I am fine, Hugh. Absolutely fine." She smile, her hands moving almost without conscious thought. "Just drifted off some. What did you do with Bronwyn?"
Suddenly, she turns serious. The memory of Bronwyn kissing his cheek burns like acid in her mind and despite the fact that she could never harm a fly, or more like a twig, and Bronwyn is one of her best friend beside Hugh, she want to obliterate the girl. She want her gone from this earth so she'll be the only one kissing Hugh on the cheek (and, hopefully, the mouth). The thoughts of Bronwyn disappearing and she having Hugh all for herself is no comfort, though, because she know three things for a fact:
Hugh will never be hers, and hers alone
Bronwyn and all the other girls who loved, loved, loved, Hugh would never disappear, and nor did she want them to.
If she couldn't bring her tongue, nor her hands, to tell the boy she loved just that, then she had no right to be jealous.
"With Bronwyn? Nothing, she was just thanking me for joining Claire's tea party with her. Olive had promised to go, but couldn't since she's down with a cold." Hugh's honey sweet voice guide her back from inside her own mind as she has drift off again, but the words he spoke was hardly comforting for her. A tiny, innocent little helping-out like attending one of Claire and Olive's normally quite pleasant tea parties didn't warrant a kiss on a cheek, that was an entire other level.
"Then why did she kiss your cheek? That's more than just thankfulness don't you think?" She doesn't want to show this side of herself, doesn't want to expose herself in all her ugly jealous glory, but her hands move on her own accord and soon it's all spilled out and she doesn't even dare to look Hugh in the face because she is so embarrassed.
"My, my, am I hearing this right? Is little Miss Frauenfeld jealous?" He sound so teasing, wiggling his eyebrows with childish glee, obviously meaning to entertain her with some light teasing but instead accidentally hurting her.
She had been loving him for years, pained by jealousy and a deep, burning wish to tell him how she felt, but never finding the courage to.
When she dared to even let him on about her jealousy, he made fun of her, and it made her close like a clam. She wanted to close like a clam. She never wanted to tell him anything ever again.
"Oh bird Fiona I'm sorry I didn't…!" Tears are pouring down her cheeks as she slowly, finally, start to break down, and his hands are soon there to touch them, cold and soothing against her hot, flushed cheeks burning from the salt water droplets dripping down on them, giving away a piece of all the hurt his teasing has inflicted. "I never meant to...I didn't know you cared. I just meant it as a little joke."
"I love you." This time, her hands are perfectly still, and for the first time in longer than she care to remember, she speaks. She pronounce words and let them roll of her lips as easy as they used to when she was a child. Back when she was happy and content, before the famine hit and she was chased away from the only home she'd ever known for nothing but good intentions.
When Hugh stare at her in open- mouthed shock afterwards, Fiona hope it's because she actually spoke, and not because of what it was that she said. She can feel her cheeks becoming flushed with embarrassment and she look down at the dirt between her knees, regretting every word.
"I love you."
Her head snapped up, and she can see Hugh looking at her, jaw set and one-hundred percent serious. His grass coloured eyes meet hers, and none of them is seeing anything else, just each other.
"You said I love you." Hugh repeat, his voice almost trembling. Whether it's excitement, fear or anger, Fiona can't tell, and she nodded slowly.
"I said I love you." This time, she let her hands spoke. She is exhausted and her throat hurt just from saying it once and though she want to she doubt she could say it again, so she let her hands speak instead.
"I love you too." He bends forward, his face coming up against hers, lips meeting for a few fleeting seconds before he moved away, taking her into his arms and hugging her instead, squeezing his arms around her waist harder than necessary.
She doesn't mind the hard handling, she want to feel him as close as she possibly can, want to know that it is real and he loves her as much as she love him. That number three on her list of impossible things is really happening.