Conversation Hearts~ A Valentine's Day Fic
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Conversation Hearts, originally called 'Motto Hearts' were created in the late 1860's. The phrases printed on the candies were ones such as "Please send a lock of your hair by return mail" or "How long shall I have to wait? Pray be considerate."
In modern times, the treats are much smaller and contain shorter sayings, such as "Be Mine" and "Love you." But the original concept still remains. When Valentine's Day comes around, those special to one another embrace the practice of sharing these tasty little signs of affection with one another, and for some it is the only way...
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His hands slide across the cool metal shelves, not sure of what he is looking for and not sure he'll know if he finds it. The row of vividly colored bags and sweet scents of sugar bring back memories of playful childhood years.
He remembers fifth grade, paper bag "mail boxes" decorated with little paper hearts. He remembers girls in pink and red giggling nervously as they handed thin cardboard cards to the other little boys, ones decorated with kittens or cartoon characters. Scooby-Doo cards had been popular that year.
He remembers the candy... the little hearts with the messages. He got one from his first girlfriend, when he was eleven years old. "Be Mine," it said.
His fingertips brush against the stiff, plastic package, one that catches his eye, and he stops and picks it up. He stares down at the bright scarlet and pink bag as though trying to work out a puzzle.
Perhaps he is.
He blinks, then places the package into the basket at his arm, smiling in a satisfied manner.
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She sighs and frowns hard as she strides into the ops center, wondering why she has to be here tonight. In just a few days, it will be the one day of the year that she wishes she could take part in.
It represents the contrary of all she lives with. It is caring, kindness, charity, and most of all, love.
None of these exist fully in her world. When they do, they are hidden in a lie and shrouded in a secret.
She tries to forget everything as she takes a seat at her desk before her meeting.
Something bright, pastel pink catches her eye amidst the grays, blacks, and browns of her surroundings. She reaches out to pick it up from the edge of her desk.
It is tiny and hard, and fits snuggly between the tips of her thumb and index finger.
She stares in confusion for a moment, then a small grin slowly spreads across her darkened features as she reads its tiny red print.
"Smile."
She presses it into her palm and glances over at his desk, wondering.
He turns briefly as though he senses her gaze and meets her eyes. She directs the action described by the candy in his direction, and he warmly returns it. Then he gives a slight nod and turns back to his work.
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The next day, with only three days left until the dreaded yet anticipated holiday arrives, she enters the center feeling better than the day before. She feels like she has something to walk to, something to reach for.
Wordlessly, she heads to his desk. She is there early and he hasn't arrived yet. She pulls something out of her pocket. A pink cardboard box. She opens it, finds what she is looking for, and places it, tiny and white, on the corner of his desk.
She puts the box back into her pocket and heads to her own desk and pile of work, a bounce in her step.
When he arrives ten minutes later, what she had set on his desk is the first thing he notices. The corner of his mouth turns up slightly and he looks over at her, just as she had the day before. Moving her lips, she mouths the words imprinted neatly onto the minuscule gift.
"Thank you."
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Two days until the day of Cupid's arrow comes upon them, and their sweet but secret practice has continued. When she looks upon her desk, in pink print on a light blue surface, "Be True."
She saw this and snuck to his desk while he went to get coffee. He found on his, green with red letters spelling out, "Always and Forever."
Neither of them talk about these exchanges to one another when they're together. It lives within them like a hidden friend, a secret that only they can share. Only in their hearts and minds can they say the words out loud.
Only when they are alone and apart can they pretend they've confronted each other, admitted, without the help of Necco's sugar and corn syrup compounds.
Nor do they consume them. No, they have to much meaning in their sweet little shells to be eaten and forgotten. They remain, like antique jewels or photographs, untouched except by their careful fingers.
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The next day, one day left, she found another, white writing etched into the lavender face, "Just One."
She feels her heart pound, and tears well in her eyes, as she knows what this one is referring to. What does she do? What can she say to this? Can she say yes? Does she dare say yes? A single tear rolls down her cheek, but one of part joy and part confusion, not of sadness. Does she dare say no?
He doesn't get a reply that day. He's afraid he crossed the line. He doesn't look at her the rest of the day. He can't. His heart is too heavy. He picks up a yellow one she had given him the day before, "Friendship." He wants to crumble it in his palm, afraid that the real thing is destroyed anyway, all over a juvenile idea.
But he doesn't. For a reason he cannot explain, his fingers refuse to ruin it.
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Today is the day. Today things change. No matter where you are or what you are doing, the knowledge remains that someone, somewhere has just changed their life.
It might have been a card that did it, a ring or a crimson rose. But it has happened somewhere. A new life has begun.
No one likes to think of the bad happening on this day, the people whose hearts have been shattered. No one needs to.
But he is, because he is one of them. How did this all get so out of hand? He can't figure it out.
But then, he sees her. Across the room, meeting her brown eyes with his green ones and smiling sweetly, as if telling him all without saying a word.
Then, he notices his desk. Another pink one, like the first he gave to her. Small and pink, with red imprinted text. He melts as he reads it. Two perfect little words.
"Some day."
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A/N: Ok, a little screwed up. But that's what you get when you have ideas for fan fics while eating Conversation Hearts. Lol. Who writes fan fiction about candy? God, I have problems. Lol. Ok well review anyway please. :-D Happy Valentine's Day!