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I leave his side with a fervently beating heart, not daring to look back as I make my way to where Myriam stands, still gossipping about with Ellen. I think it's best I leave him alone for a bit, let him digest and figure out the meaning of my words. It's obvious to most people, since my actions greatly mirror the feelings I have for him, but Connor, being his still naive and oblivious self, is just unable to make the connection.
"30 years old and still single! Girls, I think it's high time for one of us to leap at the chance and seduce him!" I come to an immediate stop, my eyes narrowing ever so slightly, and I glance at the three girls giggling at a table to my right, their eyes trained on Connor. I tense up, my fists clenching into balls as I keep listening to what they're saying.
"You're delusional if you think he'd be interested in either of us." One of them, a blonde girl around the age of nineteen, says while rubbing her arms as she tries to look anywhere but into Connor's direction.
"Well, you're just radiating optimism!" The young woman who announced they should "seduce" Connor said sarcastically, rolling her eyes.
"I heard that he doesn't want to settle down just yet. And honestly, he's a sailor, his sole love is the sea." I smile at the thought of Connor being in love with the sea, seeing it perfectly in front of me. He can get rather caught up in the scenery when standing alone on the deck of his beloved ship or just at the top of the hill that looks down upon the dock where the Aquila is resting when not in use. Yes, he is most likely an eternal fan of the sea, its vastness amazing him for his entire life but I hope it wouldn't be his only love. I hope my words triggered something in him and he would at least try and give a shot to a different kind of love.
"Where did you hear that he doesn't want to settle down?" The ring leader asks, her eyebrows knitting together.
"This place is full of meddling women and they are more than happy to share what they've gathered." Blondie says shrugging.
"I for one think that he's already in love with someone other than us." The third, and the most friendly looking, girlfriend says as I pass by their table, not even thinking about looking at them. I can feel her eyes on me, probably recognizing me as the girl that seems to hang around with Connor all the time. I've heard things going about the Homestead as well, countless people betting on the day me and Connor finally get together, whispering about our "suspicious" relationship. There's nothing suspicious about it really, we just simply get along really well and feel comfortable talking about anything. We're just friends. Good ones at that.
No matter how hard I try to ignore those three girls murmuring about a certain someone coming home without an engagement ring, leaving a perfectly fine looking, wealthy colonel back in New York just to waste her youth at a place like the Homestead, where most men are already taken or too old, anger and a funny feeling grows in the pit of my stomach and I'm ready to explode when Connor calls after me. I stop in my tracks and turn my head back to where he is, clutching the pendant and the necklace I gave him, screwing his way through the people gathered around in the inn. As soon as he reaches me, he grabs my hand and pulls me after himself, gently but determinedly leading the way to the door. I look down at our connected hands, fingers squeezing and wrapping around each other so naturally it knocks the wind out of me. Despite my utmost surprise, I manage to briefly glance at the three mustketeers and smirk as their expression registers in my head. Jealous, utterly taken aback. The door slams shut behind us and I draw in a sharp breath as Connor suddenly turns on me and looks deeply in my eyes, desperately searching for something.
"Are you okay?" I ask when I finally find my voice and enough courage to open my mouth. His dark brown eyes still seek that something in mine I can't guess at, but he answers my question with a barely noticeable nod then returns to his quest. After about a few more minutes of intensely staring at each other, he exhales loudly, raking his fingers through his shiny hair that is starting to lose its Mohawk like style.
"Do you really mean it?" He asks after a while, looking off to the far end of the road leading up to the manor.
"What?" Connor's gaze finds mine again and that one raised eyebrow of his speaks to me, causing a blush creep up my cheeks. Of course it's a stupid question, both of us know what he's talking about, but since we tend to get really awkward when personal, deep rooted feelings must be discussed, I just can't answer straight away. He raises his hand and reveals the necklace by hanging it in front of my head, the pendant dangling to and fro. My breath hitches and I try to cover my flushed state by turning around and starting a slow stroll down the road.
"Of course! Sometimes I'm scared you're never coming back again or you find a better place during one of your journeys and decide to settle down there." I say in one breath, smiling softly when his footsteps get louder, signaling that he's right behind me. "I don't want to lose such a good friend." Reaching an old oak tree, I stop and lean against it, my eyes observing a bunch of ants scurrying about near my feet.
"Friends…" He mumbles as he halts beside me, following my example and staring at the ants as well. It sounds dangerously as a question and I'm afraid to give him an answer, fearing he might misread it. I briefly glance at him and my heart gives a sudden leap as my eyes land upon his face, recognizing the expression spread over it. He's disappointed.
"I really like you, Ratonhnhaké:ton." I use his real name, that attractive Mohawk name his people chose for him exactly 30 years ago, hoping it would cheer him up. Hoping he might get the real meaning behind these words.
"But..,I love you." He says, so quietly I almost miss it. I drew in a sharp breath, a shiver running down my spine, but refuse to look at him. What?! He sounds so serious, so sincere it burns me, my heart beating so fast I couldn't count the beats if I'd ever want to. This cannot be! Why would he wait so long to tell me?! Why is it always like this?! We've known each other for three long years, three tiring years I spent with worrying over his health and life. Three years.
"You dummy." I whisper, knowing perfectly well he can hear it despite the quietness of my voice. "I've been in love with you for three years."