[Author's Note: I wanted to write something warm and soft before the next two chapters, which are not going to be particularly happy. Don't worry; everything will end well- this is just the storm before all that. Also, I am ultimately on team PeterxLara Jean BUT John is still very precious to me. I think you know who she'll up with in the end (Peter, cough, cough) but John is going to be some stiff competition.]
No one's P.O.V.-
Stephen had just gotten home from work. He went to place his briefcase down on the island in the kitchen. The house was quiet this evening; Margot was in Vancouver, Aerity was at the beach party with Peter, and Kitty was out with friends. A smile bloomed across his face as he began to ponder what to do with his spare time. While scratching his chin with his forefinger, his eyes wandered down to the Lush box still resting on the counter. The Oxford logo caught his attention. Without realizing it, his mind began to slip away, back to a time long, long ago.
Eighteen Years Ago:
Stephen was helping to prune fauna in the botanical gardens. He volunteered there every week with another family, the Ambroses. The one woman lived with her sister and family, which included two sons. Stephen brought his two eldest daughters, leaving baby Kitty at home with his mother; she had moved in to help after his wife's passing. While Margot and Paul- the eldest boy- ignored each other, Aerity and John- the youngest- were inseparable. John was a quiet boy with this tender way about him. While Margot would go climb trees, get dirty, and do other such things, John and Aerity would spend their time talking, playing peacefully, and reading to each other. Despite her mother's recent passing, Stephen had never seen his daughter so happy as when she was with John. His mother and aunt said the same of John.
This one time, while the adults were pruning some rose bushes, John was pushing Aerity gently on an old rope swing. They had just finished the fifth chapter of Pride and Prejudice; something John introduced to the enthusiastic Aerity. Stephen looked over to see John pushing and Aerity laughing. Then, out of nowhere, he sat down on the swing beside her; it was big and strong enough to hold both of them. The father watched as the two proceeded to just stare at one another, silently. It was the strangest thing; it was like they were having a conversation with their eyes. Stephen didn't know it was possible for such small children to do such a thing. They weren't even smiling either- just staring, simply….. effortlessly.
By the time John finally smiled- the tenderest smile a boy of seven could achieve- his aunt and mother were observing the scene too. His mother gave Stephen a knowing grin; he just glanced from her back to the quiet children. John's little lips parted a sliver. "You smell like flowers." You smell like flowers….. "It's the roses you picked me," little Aerity smiled back. "They're your favorite." "Would you pick me a red one next time? I like red ones best." And the look of adoration in their faces; their tiny, innocent, enraptured faces. The purest, whitest, truest smiles and eyes….. "I will always pick roses for you."