Meet Annabelle Johnson, my sweet but rough around the edges OC. She and her brother are orphans, but they are old enough to be on their own even in merry old London. She is nineteen years old, and is a dark beauty many admire. Her late parents have a mysterious past, however, and never shared much about it with Annie. When she meets a handsome stranger, and crazy things start happening, her family's true origins begin to come together and her own story begins to take a fantastic turn.
Enjoy!
I knew the very moment I first saw him step out of his motorcar that he was different. His tall, muscular, and very attractive body seemed to attract every girl on the street. He turned heads and most likely made a few hearts skip beats. His gorgeous eyes, tawny hair, and full lips did little to stop my own heart from skipping a beat or two as well.
"Annie, for God's sake, you don't even know the man's name," I mumbled to myself and looked back down at the table to keep working.
"It's Peter," a deep, rich bass voice rumbled in front of me. I looked up, surprised and mortified to see the handsome man himself standing right in front of my stall. "Peter Pevensie. It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss...?" After an awkward couple moments of silent staring, I realized two things.
One, he had asked for my name. And two, his hand was extended to shake mine. And I was being a complete ass.
"Oh! Oh, God, I'm so sorry," I sputtered, reaching out to shake his hand and knocking over several of my bouquets in the process. We both stumbled to catch them... He managed to save the flowers and catch my hand as well. He set the flowers down and smoothly held my hand in his. "Ah, I'm sorry, so sorry... Ah, I mean, thank you, Mr. Pevensie..." I was all too aware of his stronger, larger hand holding mine when he spoke again.
"It's Peter, really. Mr. Pevensie is my father, although even most people never called him that either. Now, what is your name?" I couldn't help but giggle a little but at his demeanor. He was so confident, so kind. So easy to talk to. I can do this, I thought. I took a deep breath.
"My name is Annabelle Johnson. But you can call me Annie. Most everyone who knows me calls me Annie," I said, a little too quickly. But I said it nonetheless.
"Miss Annie," said Peter Pevensie, as he lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it gently. Oh, my God, he kissed my hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
"Oh, well, likewise. Sir. Mr. Pevensie. Peter, I mean. It's a, er, pleasure to meet you as well..." I blushed scarlet and withdrew my hand from his and shoved my hands both in my apron pocket. Annie, I thought to myself, don't make a fool of yourself. He's only a man.
And a damn good looking one at that.
"I was just walking by when I happened to notice these flowers you have for sale here," he said, his voice ringing clear like a silver bell. A girl could get used to listening to a voice like that. "They're rather unique. Might I ask what they're called?" I blushed again, realizing which flowers he was talking about.
"Oh, my mum actually started breeding that particular kind of orchid before she died... She called it The Queen Lucy. I'm not sure why, but it suits it fine, don't you think?" I was a little worried when I mentioned the flower's name, because the handsome gentleman looked as if he'd seen a ghost. "Sir? Mr. Pevens- Peter, are you alright?" He blinked rather quickly and smiled at me, obviously shaken but not wanting to admit it.
"Yes, really, I'm quite alright. Who was your mother? Where was she from? Do you know why she chose such a grand name for this particular flower?" Oh, my goodness, so many questions...
"Uh, yessir. My mum's name was Prim. She came here from over the sea with my big brother- he was just a baby at the time- and then she married my dad. She was a widow. But my dad loved her, and they were good together. She'd always been interested in flowers. When she came here with my brother she had some seeds for the Queen Lucy's, and they were her favorite until she died. Why do you ask?" He looked as if he were deep in thought.
"Prunaprismia..." He muttered under his breath. I was confused.
"What was that, sir?" He looked up at me, surprised that I heard him.
"Oh? Oh, that, nothing. Just another name for the- ah, orchid you have here. You see, I've seen them like this before. Long ago. I don't even quite remember where. My sister paints pictures of them. You wouldn't happen to be selling any of them today, by chance?" Immediately when he mentioned that he might buy some of my flowers I forgot everything else and went into business mode.
"Yes, yes, you see here, I can sell you a nice bouquet of the Lucy's for ten pounds. That's how much me mum used to sell them for. Never changed the price." He smiled at me and handed me a twenty pound note, then asked if he might buy one of the plants growing in the pot, so that he could take it home to his sister and she could plant it herself.
"Um, sure. For twenty pounds, I'd do just about anything for you, sir!" That statement earned me a smile from the gentleman and dirty looks from the woman in the stall next to mine, as well as a rather uncomfortable... Situation.
"What would ye do fer me if I gave ye twenny pounds, eh, lassie?" The man was walking behind me and he reached over and pinched my ass.
"OH! Why, you bloody bastard, you'd do well to keep your hands to yourself, you filthy son of a bitch!" I slapped the man across the face, which probably wasn't the best thing to do. He caught hold of my wrist and pulled me close to him. Much too close. "Let me go, you bloody-"
"Sir, I suggest you put the good lady down," rang the loud, clear voice of Peter Pevensie the man who gave me twenty pounds for a pot of special red orchids. "Or else." He had stepped behind the stall and stood directly in front of my assailant, who still had a firm grip around my waist. His hand was dangerously close to a rather private area I would rather not have any old pervert putting his filthy hands.
"Or else what, eh, pretty boy?" Taunted the man. I could smell the alcohol and halitosis on his breath. Not a pleasant combination.
"You don't want to know," Peter said, his glare shooting straight through the man. "And unless you plan on finding out, I suggest again. Put. Her. Down." I could feel the man begin to tremble in fear. Suddenly the kind and gentle man was large and intimidating, and seemed perfectly capable of taking on any bloke he had the mind to fight.
So he dropped me. Pushed me, actually. Straight into Peter's arms. And he ran away, shouting that Peter was... Well, not very nice things. Vulgar even for me when I'm angry. And when I'm angry I practically spit horse piss.
"Come on now, let me see... He grabbed you pretty hard," Peter said, gently turning my arm to look at the angry purple marks on my wrist. I winced. It hurt. But I tried to laugh it off.
"Oh, no, really, it's nothing. I'm alright. Hahaha- AAHH!" I doubled over in pain when I laughed.
"Annie!" Peter cried, and wrapped a protecting arm around my shoulders. If I hadn't have been in so much pain I might have swooned.
"My stomach hurts like hell," I said through my teeth. At that he rather unceremoniously tore open my blouse- just tore it open- and looked at my stomach.
"I think your ribs might be bruised or broken, I can't quite tell which," he said before taking off his coat and placing it over my shoulders. "Button that, you don't want to walk around London with a gaping hole in your blouse. Sorry about that. I'll get you a new one."
"But I-" He very quickly shut me up by buttoning the thing himself.
"Hurry up now, Annie, I've got to get you to the doctor," he said impatiently. As soon as the coat was buttoned and I was decent he literally swept me off my feet and carried me over to his car, plopped me down in the passenger seat, walked back to the stall, picked up his flowers, and handed the lady in the next stall over some money.
"Watch this stall and sell the flowers if anyone wants to buy. I'll be sending someone over in a couple of hours to take over for you. Then you'll get this same amount again. Deal?" The woman's eyes lit up and she nodded so fast I thought her bloody head might pop off.
He walked back over to the car, sat down in the driver's seat, and by Jove, I was on my way to God knows where with a strange man I've known for not even half an hour. I glanced over at him and admired his handsome profile...
Peter Pevensie can take me anywhere he likes. And, bloody hell, I won't even care.
So, let me know what you think and if you have any ideas give them to me straight. Thanks :) Review please!