She fell into the kiss, arms reaching around, pulling him closer. For a few seconds it was bliss. Then, she realized what was happening. She pulled away.
"What are you doing?" she asked. He looked confused.
"I think its pretty self explanatory, isn't it?" he took a step closer. She took a step back.
"I have to say something," he said, staring intently at the floor. "I like you. A lot. I know we're different years, different heights, different…well, different everything. But talking to you today was the first time I've felt alive in almost a year. It's fated to end badly, these sorts of things always are, but I'm starting to think I might—"
"No. No, I… I don't like you."
"Excuse me?" he said, face snapping up and eyes darkening with something other than lust.
"This won't work. You're arrogant, obnoxious. You refuse to carry a conversation with anyone, and you must be seriously screwed up for someone to cheat on you. That is, if she even existed, which I find kind of hard to believe considering you're currently on vacation with you alleged ex's brother. Not to mention your family."
"My family," he said, eyebrows knitting together.
"Yes, your family. Never mind the frankly ostentatious wealth and housing—"
"What do you think you know of my family?" he interrupted. She continued.
"But frankly, their politics and coverage of late have been entirely reprehensible. There's no real news, no real coverage. It's pandering."
"You know nothing of which you speak. Not to mention that the actions of my father's company reflect very little on me."
"It doesn't matter. How did you phrase it? These things are fated to end badly? Let's get that over with now," she said, turning on her heel and stalking up to bed. She slammed the door as quietly as she could, making sure she was in her room this time. She sat on the bed.
Oh my God. Oh…my GOD! He had kissed her. Truly and properly kissed her. She hadn't been kissed like that in…actually, she wasn't sure if she'd ever been kissed like that.
No, she couldn't be thinking like this. This was Darcy. Will Darcy. Fitzwilliam Darcy, whom she had met less than 24 hours ago. And he had kissed her. She pressed her fingers to her lips, then curled into the fetal position in her bed.
She wasn't sure why she hated him so much. He was arrogant, sure, and stand-offish. He didn't like to talk, and he was sort of rude.
Her head pounded as the alcoholic haze began to fade away.
Then again, he kissed well. And he was attractive, and an English major. And Lord knows her mother would be ecstatic if she got together with a future billionaire.
She heard a soft knock on her door.
"Lizzy, can I come in?"
"Yeah," she breathed. The door crept open, and she felt him sit on the foot of the bed. She burrowed into the blankets.
"I need to say something. Address what you've said to me.
"I'm quiet, always have been. My mother died when I was young, and my father was always in the public eye. Always wondering who his next flame was going to be. I was always taught not to speak to reporters, to strangers, to anyone, for fear of saying the wrong thing, of disgracing the family name. It's probably why I don't connect to people well. I guess that explains why I come across as arrogance, as prideful. As to their line of reporting, my father's been dead for a year, and I have little to do with what is said. To their journalistic integrity, I have no excuse." He took a deep breath, then continued.
" I met Caroline on one of these vacations. I was a sophomore, she was a senior in high school. It was ill advised on all counts. To this day, I consider it one of my greater lapses in judgment. We dated long distance while she was in school. Her family was more that happy to facilitate the connection, it being an advantageous association. Me being friends with Charlie became icing on the cake. She ended up at school not too far away, but made a series of decisions that…that excluded me from her future. It was Charlie who told me. He had gone to surprise her at school and… I'm not sure if there's anything else to say. You can check with him if you don't believe me."
"Did you love her?" she asked, refusing to raise her head from her pillow.
"No. I don't think so. Looking back, it couldn't have been love." He paused. "Is there anything I have left to say?" Lizzy stayed silent.
"I'm sorry," he said, voice soft and deep. "I won't bother you again." He stood and padded back to his room. Lizzy curled tighter into a ball.
She couldn't sleep. She lay in bed for hours, tossing and turning. Praying for sleep to come, but it wouldn't listen. She grew hot, then cold, restless. Her mind turning and spinning, her body nearly aching. Finally, around seven, she got out of bed. It was late in the season, and the sun had started to come up. She dressed herself quickly, walked downstairs, and went outside. Her feet sank into the deep snow, the jeans above her boots getting wet. She shivered, but she kept walking. The only sound she really heard was Lydia yapping in the distance.
There was a stream that ran behind the house. She walked closer, staring over the bank into the water. It was mostly frozen, with clumps of snow floating in the few spots of flowing water. She was mesmerized for a few moments before snapping to attention. It was far too cold to be outside. She walked around for a while before heading back to the house.
When she got back, Charlie was awake and reading on the couch.
"Wow," she said, slipping her boots off. "You're an early riser."
"Nasty habit. Besides, I could say that about you," he said. "How was your walk?"
"Nice. I needed to think a little bit. It's gorgeous out there."
"Yeah, I'm partial to it. By the way, sometimes the wind'll blow the door open, so just make sure you shut it all the way when you go out."
"Oh, I'm so sorry."
"No worries. We're in the 'no harm, no foul' category."
"Excellent." She walked upstairs, put on a fresh pair of jeans, grabbed a book, then walking downstairs and plopping down next to Charlie.
"So, what're you reading?"
"I'm afraid it doesn't stack up to the two of you."
"Any reading is good reading."
"Well, when you put it like that…" he said smiling and closing the book so she could see the cover. Roddy Doyle's Barrytown Trilogies.
"Oh, I've read those. I really enjoyed them. He wrote some other good stuff. Paddy Clarke is pretty good, but I feel like Barrytown is what people really think about when they think about Doyle. He really opened up modern Irish novels." Charlie smiled.
"You seem to know a little bit about everything." Lizzy sat back and crossed her legs, her socks tingling slightly with static.
"Isn't that the saying? Know a something about everything and everything about something?"
"I guess, but it's odd to see accomplishment in someone so young."
"And how exactly does one define true accomplishment?" she asked playfully.
"Well, as my sister would say—mind you, entirely describing herself—an accomplished woman must be beautiful, tall, slender. She must have a sense of humor about herself, though not in a manner as to be overbearing. She must dress well and expensively, with taste. She must be well traveled, speak languages, but never without the sense of superiority that her native tongue is king."
"She seems to leave a few things out."
"I couldn't agree with you more. If I were asked, I'd add a few things. She must go through life happy, with propensity for joy and an ability to see the best in situations."
"I can see why you picked my sister."
"Your sister," Charlie said, stretching back and crossing his arms behind his head, "is absolutely and undeniably perfect." Lizzy smiled at the praise of her sister, though felt compelled to protest Charlie's idea of accomplishment.
"Even you seem to leave things out," she said.
"I couldn't agree more," they heard from behind them.
"Darcy," Charlie said, smiling as he saw his friend. "You're up early."
"Couldn't sleep," he said, siting across from them. Lizzy couldn't bear to meet his gaze
"Anything I can help with?" Charlie asked earnestly.
"I don't think so."
"We were just talking about what makes an accomplished woman," Charlie said.
"I think it futile to ponder," Darcy said slowly.
"You can't think of anything that you look for in a woman?" Darcy thought for a moment before a slow grin spread across his face.
"A pair of fine eyes and a propensity for extensive reading," he said, looking over to Lizzy, who had finally managed to break her staring contest with the floor. She flushed furiously. If Charlie noticed the remark, he kept a straight face.
"Well," Lizzy said, standing. "Since we're mostly all up, I'll start making breakfast. Jane always wakes up when she smells pancakes."
"I'll help," Darcy said springing up.
"I got it," she said, staring at the ground.
"Please, I insist," he replied, walking towards her and the kitchen. Charlie raised an eyebrow, but neither of the others noticed.
Once in the kitchen, Lizzy started to pull down pans and bowls. Darcy worked silently beside her, cracking eggs and frying bacon. It was only when the first batch of pancakes was off the griddle that she turned to him and spoke.
"What are you doing?"
"I don't know what you mean," he said, pulling bacon from the pan and plating it.
"You didn't have to cook with me."
"I like helping."
"You're just making things awkward."
"I don't feel awkward."
"I feel awkward."
"Can I help?"
"No, that's the point. Just…" he was looking at her, deep circles pooling under his eyes. "What happened?"
"What do you mean?"
"You don't look awesome."
"You sure know how to make a guy feel awesome," he said easily. Lizzy was about to speak, but Jane walked in, rubbing her eyes.
"Hey guys. Do I smell pancakes?"
"You do indeed," Lizzy said.
"Awesome," Jane replied. "I'll set the table." She grabbed plates and silverware before walking out. She poked her head back in.
"Hey, have any of you guys seen Lydia?"
Author's Note: Ta da. Hope to get the next one up soon.
Much love and best wishes,
Zoe