Earth's Children
Summary: The parents of Harper tell their tale of life and love in Post-Commonwealth Earth.
Author: Luna Sealeaf
Rating: PG
Second Episode
"I close my eyes, only for a moment and the moment's gone.
All my dreams pass before my eyes in curiosity.
Dust in the wind.
All they are is dust in the wind...
All we are is dust in the wind.
-Lyrics to ancient Earth song
When the group of new Irish workers arrived in our small town of Dunwich, I was eighteen going on nineteen. I think. After my parents were killed when I was ten I'd been working too hard to pay attention to things as inconsequential as time.
My earliest memory is that of work. As slaves we were put to use as soon as we could walk on our own. When I was a little girl I'd help my parents pick the food we'd grown, both for the villagers and the resident Nietzscheans. To this day I can remember my mother scolding me for taking a bite of one of the best looking vegetables.
"Josephine! The best ones are for the Lord and his family! We eat the little ones, see?" and she held up a scrawnier version of what I'd just eaten; it was decidedly less appetizing.
"But that's no fair!" I had whined. Then my mom slapped me; not very hard, but enough to get my attention.
"Never, ever, question the Lord or his people, do you understand me Josephine? There's no point. Nothing will be gained from it." Although I had been about to cry because she'd hit me, the stern look on her worn and tired face startled me into silence.
And I never did question any of the Nietzscheans' orders. After my brother's fifth birthday, when I was seven, mom, perhaps sensing my rebellious streak, took me aside and told me firmly that any trouble I caused would hurt Devin. If I wanted to be a good big sister and protect my little brother, then I'd have to behave myself. Always.
So, I tamed the fire in my personality that had just begun to grow. Instead of a rambunctious little seven year old, I was quiet, obedient; the perfect kludge. For three years I lived under the belief that if I behaved and was good, my family and I would be safe, left to live in peace.
Then I turned ten. One day I came home to our small hut on the outskirt of the village; I'd been running errands, or some such thing. I came in from the back, and when I heard Nietzschean voices I hid, as I'd been taught to do all my life. While I stayed out of sight, I found a spot where I could see what was happening in the other room. What I saw there would haunt me for the rest of my life.
Two Nietzscheans stood between my parents; one was beating my dad, the other was raping my mom. Little girl that I was, I nearly screamed; but then my mother turned her head towards me, eyes wide with pain and terror. So I bit my lip until it bleed and watched in silence.
Eventually my father collapsed to the floor in a bloody heap, and when the two Nietzscheans had finished with my mother, they left. Crying, Mom crawled to my dad's body. I couldn't see what she was doing very well, but a moment later her scream filled the hut and I fell in a dead faint. That one moment of weakness was what killed her: when I regained consciousness enough to remember what I'd seen, I ran from my hiding place, intending to seek comfort from my mom.
Instead I took the bloody knife from her lifeless hand, calmly washed it off, and went to ask a neighbor for help burying their bodies.
When Devin returned I gave him a tight hug and explained that Mommy and Daddy had gone away, and would not be coming back.
I didn't tell him what happened until he was fourteen years old. Since then I've assumed responsibility for him, as well as myself. We each took the place of one of our parents as far as work went; Devin went to the factory instead of dad, and I worked in the Lord's household, mostly I just did cleaning and menial chores. In any case, they weren't terrible as some jobs, and we were at least able to continue living in our home together.
Still, much as I loved my brother, we were two very different individuals. This was clear on the day the foreign workers arrived. Typical of Devin, he wanted to go and greet them, help them settle into life in Dunwich.
"Come on Joe! It's not their fault they're here! We can at least try to make them feel welcome," I laughed sharply at his pleading look.
"First of all, don't call me 'Joe'. And see, the thing is, they're not welcome here. Newbies always cause a stir, which attracts attention, and –"
"Attention attracts trouble. I know sis," Devin instantly grew sober, and a blush rose on his cheeks.
"Besides, maybe there'll be some pretty Scottish-"
"Irish," I automatically corrected, and after rolling his eyes he continued.
"Maybe some pretty Irish girl will attract attention away from you." He looked away as I suddenly became very still. In a soft voice, I chided him gently.
"Devin, it's wrong to wish one's trouble on someone else." He hung his head, looking, despite our solemn conversation, much younger than his sixteen-or-so years.
"I know, I know. It's just that, I worry for you. I can't stand how they look at you." The word 'they' was said with such vehemence that I walked over to him and held his hands loosely in mine, trying to choose exactly the right words.
It was true that in the past few years I had grown beautiful. I don't say this to be vain; it was simply the truth. With long dark hair, equally dark eyes, a fine facial structure, I couldn't help but call attention to myself. Devin had the same features, and many girls in the village were half in love with him. Yet I was looked on with pity rather than envy; considering where I worked, neither beauty nor the attention it brought were welcome. It was a common fact that Nietzschean women often supplied any genetically deficient sons with pretty human girls, since they weren't allowed to marry a female Nietzschean.
Still, I actually feared more for Devin than myself. Apart from my parents, I had watched my two older sisters killed when Magog attacked; though I was quite young at the time, as well as numerous friends succumb to disease or starvation. Not to mention several beatings I had myself earned. Basically, I could handle anything that happened to me. I could deal with it. But Devin...if he got mad at the Nietzscheans, as he did when they stared and made lewd comments towards me, they would consider it great fun to play with and kill him, the same thing they'd done to our dad.
This constant worry over Devin was one of the reasons I had refrained from making other close friends. It was hard enough trying to protect one person, especially one like my brother whose natural personality constantly got him into trouble. Anymore such cares and my nerves would have been stretched way too tautly.
"Look, if it means that much to you, go greet them after work. We don't have anything better to do." A grin, along with dimples, split his face and he kissed me on the cheek excitedly.
"Thanks sis!"
"But don't you dare take them any of our food!" I called after him as he grabbed the midday meal I'd prepared for him and ran out the door, giving a quick wave goodbye. Knowing he wouldn't listen, I gave an exasperated sight and threw my hands up in the air. A gesture I had often watched my mother use when she was alive. But a smile crept onto my face nonetheless; despite his antics, Devin was the only one who could make me smile.
Grabbing my favorite, and only, shawl –it had once belonged to Mom- I started down the path to my own job.
My day didn't end until after sunset and I clutched the warm material around my thin dress tightly to fight off the chill. I had just reached the worst part of my journey home, dark walls on one side, dark open land on the other, when it happened. Something moved in the darkness. I stopped walking, trying to looking around, then cried out when I felt a hand on my shoulder. Without hesitation I turned and kicked the person in the stomach with all my power before turning to run.
"OW! Holy Mother of Earth! Ow!" Confused, I turned around again. It certainly didn't sound like a Nietzschean, but none of the villagers would have snuck up on me like that. Still wary, I stayed a few steps away and called out,
"Who are you?" The figure slowly stood up, clutching their stomach with one hand, the other pressed against the wall for support. The moon was covered by a cloud and there wasn't enough light to make out their features. Still, there was no way I could have hurt an Uber that much. Unless this was a trick?
"I'm –ow!-Evan, Evan Harper." The words were pronounced strangely, and I took a step closer, despite myself. In front of me stood a man, albeit a short one; no taller than I was, and as the clouds passed over the moon, I could see that he had bright blonde hair cut to his temple. His clothes were also strange, and he smelled as though he could use a bath. Altogether it took me about a minute to realize who this was.
"You're one of those newcomers," even I thought I said the words accusingly.
"And?" he asked angrily. Finally lifting his head, the man-Evan?- looked at me, about to say something else, but fell silent. His open- mouthed gaping irritated me.
"And," I snapped, fists planted on my hips, "What in the hell were you trying to do? You don't just go up to a stranger in the middle of the night and grab her by the shoulder! What did you expect to happen?" I could feel my face flush with anger, but now he too looked annoyed, as though he had any right to be! But then I noticed how young he looked; he might have been no older than Devin, and boys at that age always took offence easily.
"Look, I'm sorry, alright? I didn't mean to frighten you-"
"Trust me, I'd never be scared of you," I snorted.
"Oh yeah? Well that's not how it looked to me." I began to lift my foot, and he quickly raised one hand and took a step back. Crossing my arms and raising my eyebrows at him, he continued hastily.
"Anyway, I'm sorry! I just wanted some help, because I'm lost. I got separated from my brother and sister when we went to try and get something to eat. I'd never hurt a girl." Strangely enough, I believed him, though I would have bet my only pair of shoes that by 'try and get something to eat' he meant they were stealing.
"Fine. I'll take you back to the center of the village, but that's it. You've already wasted enough of my night." Without waiting for an answer I turned away from the direction leading back home and started walking.
For a moment there was silence, and I couldn't suppress a smile at the thought of him staring at me in bewilderment –and pain. Maybe I shouldn't have kicked him so hard...then again; he should have called out before grabbing my shoulder.
To my satisfaction I heard hurried footsteps a moment later, and then he was walking next to me. We were both silent for a few minutes as we walked, and then-
"So, d'you got a name?" he wanted a name did he? As if he deserved to know my name! I considered lying, but in the end I used my best weapon: silence.
"Ok...so, er what's this place like, anyhow?" Still I said nothing. We turned left, the center of the village almost visible. I was sure that I had shut that Evett, or Euan, or whatever his name was, up, but I was wrong.
"Fine; you don't want to talk. I'll supply both ends of the conversation." Looking at him sideways I saw that he'd stuck his hands in his pockets and was in much too cheerful a mood for someone I had just kicked.
"Now then, I'll just answer both my questions. Uh, let's see..." his voice trailed off, then resumed in a much higher pitched voice. "'A pleasure to meet you Evan, my name is..." I could almost feel him glance at me, but I stoically kept my face forward, telling myself that if I just ignored him, he'd stop. He didn't.
"'My name is Fiona. And may I add that you are a most handsome young man'..." I snorted, the light wasn't very good, but I seriously doubted he was handsome. And what kind of a name was 'Fiona'?
"Why, thank you Fiona; the pleasure's all mine. So tell me, what brings you out this time of night? 'Oh, I was just visiting my sweetheart- "Through this entire conversation he changed his voice from what he might call 'normal' to a 'girl' pitched voice. For the most part I found it irritating, but the last sentence really irked me. Before he could continue I turned and shoved my hands against his chest. He lost his balance and sprawled onto the ground. Standing over him, I said in a low voice,
"What is wrong with you? Do you try to annoy people? I was doing you a favor. So can you please just shut up?!" Instead of cowering, like most sane people I knew would have done, he just grinned up at me –a most infuriating expression, I should add.
"Guess that means you're single, eh?"
"Why -you annoying little!" I'm not sure why I didn't just turn and walk away. But I can't remember anyone being able to get underneath my skin in such a short amount of time. However, I didn't walk away. I raised my foot to give him another hard kick –no one ever accused me of being a pacifist- but before I could he kicked at my other leg and I fell forward.
"Bastard!" I yelled, trying to get up. I'd landed on top of him and was trying to claw at his face, but he caught my wrists. And then, still smiling, he absolutely signed his death warrant: He kissed me. I was so stunned that I froze, completely still. Luckily my senses quickly returned to me and I wrenched my wrists free, slapped him as hard as I could in that position, and stood up, going over all the ways in my head that I could kill him without getting caught.
"I –I'm sorry." Suddenly he was getting to his feet, and in the dim moonlight I could see that he looked rather shocked himself.
"That was wrong of me. It's just that, well, it's been a rough couple of days. Let me explain.." his eyes looked at me pleadingly, but I'd had more than enough of this.
"I could care less about your life story," shaking with anger, I pointed straight ahead of us. "Keep going that way and you should find your friends, assuming you weren't lying about all that." Wanting to say more, but not knowing what I wanted to say, I simply turned and stalked off towards home.
I wouldn't realize until morning that I'd forgotten my shawl, which had slipped off when he tripped me.
My thoughts were completely scattered as I made my way home. Inside Devin was sitting at the small dinner table, waiting up for me as he always does. Seeing the look on my face he quickly stood up and asked what was wrong. I thought about telling him what had happened, but then changed my mind, explaining that I was only tired.
I went through the motions of preparing for bed, the whole while Devin prattling on about some Irish babe.
"I'm telling you sis, she was gorgeous. Long blonde curls, the brightest green eyes you've ever seen! And her voice...!"
I smiled, nodded, and made noncommittal sounds, but my thoughts were still miles away. At last I told him we should go to bed.
"You're right; I told her I'd see her again tomorrow, so I don't want to be exhausted,"
I didn't answer; instead I blew out the lamp and settled into my bed. Next to me, Devin lay on the mat on the floor, already fast asleep. But I stayed awake for some time.
That was not how I'd imagined my first kiss.
Author's Note: Wow, can't you just tell there's some intense attraction going on there? Let me just say that when I first started writing this chapter, that was not how I imagined their meeting to be. Actually, I'd forgotten that Seamus grew up in Dunwich, and I had been going to have her save him from something in the ghetto. You know, dark alleyway, she's in the shadows and pulls him to safety...but instead their fight scene came about. Well, next time we'll see what Evan thought of the whole encounter. Anyway, thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed it!
-Luna Sealeaf
Summary: The parents of Harper tell their tale of life and love in Post-Commonwealth Earth.
Author: Luna Sealeaf
Rating: PG
Second Episode
"I close my eyes, only for a moment and the moment's gone.
All my dreams pass before my eyes in curiosity.
Dust in the wind.
All they are is dust in the wind...
All we are is dust in the wind.
-Lyrics to ancient Earth song
When the group of new Irish workers arrived in our small town of Dunwich, I was eighteen going on nineteen. I think. After my parents were killed when I was ten I'd been working too hard to pay attention to things as inconsequential as time.
My earliest memory is that of work. As slaves we were put to use as soon as we could walk on our own. When I was a little girl I'd help my parents pick the food we'd grown, both for the villagers and the resident Nietzscheans. To this day I can remember my mother scolding me for taking a bite of one of the best looking vegetables.
"Josephine! The best ones are for the Lord and his family! We eat the little ones, see?" and she held up a scrawnier version of what I'd just eaten; it was decidedly less appetizing.
"But that's no fair!" I had whined. Then my mom slapped me; not very hard, but enough to get my attention.
"Never, ever, question the Lord or his people, do you understand me Josephine? There's no point. Nothing will be gained from it." Although I had been about to cry because she'd hit me, the stern look on her worn and tired face startled me into silence.
And I never did question any of the Nietzscheans' orders. After my brother's fifth birthday, when I was seven, mom, perhaps sensing my rebellious streak, took me aside and told me firmly that any trouble I caused would hurt Devin. If I wanted to be a good big sister and protect my little brother, then I'd have to behave myself. Always.
So, I tamed the fire in my personality that had just begun to grow. Instead of a rambunctious little seven year old, I was quiet, obedient; the perfect kludge. For three years I lived under the belief that if I behaved and was good, my family and I would be safe, left to live in peace.
Then I turned ten. One day I came home to our small hut on the outskirt of the village; I'd been running errands, or some such thing. I came in from the back, and when I heard Nietzschean voices I hid, as I'd been taught to do all my life. While I stayed out of sight, I found a spot where I could see what was happening in the other room. What I saw there would haunt me for the rest of my life.
Two Nietzscheans stood between my parents; one was beating my dad, the other was raping my mom. Little girl that I was, I nearly screamed; but then my mother turned her head towards me, eyes wide with pain and terror. So I bit my lip until it bleed and watched in silence.
Eventually my father collapsed to the floor in a bloody heap, and when the two Nietzscheans had finished with my mother, they left. Crying, Mom crawled to my dad's body. I couldn't see what she was doing very well, but a moment later her scream filled the hut and I fell in a dead faint. That one moment of weakness was what killed her: when I regained consciousness enough to remember what I'd seen, I ran from my hiding place, intending to seek comfort from my mom.
Instead I took the bloody knife from her lifeless hand, calmly washed it off, and went to ask a neighbor for help burying their bodies.
When Devin returned I gave him a tight hug and explained that Mommy and Daddy had gone away, and would not be coming back.
I didn't tell him what happened until he was fourteen years old. Since then I've assumed responsibility for him, as well as myself. We each took the place of one of our parents as far as work went; Devin went to the factory instead of dad, and I worked in the Lord's household, mostly I just did cleaning and menial chores. In any case, they weren't terrible as some jobs, and we were at least able to continue living in our home together.
Still, much as I loved my brother, we were two very different individuals. This was clear on the day the foreign workers arrived. Typical of Devin, he wanted to go and greet them, help them settle into life in Dunwich.
"Come on Joe! It's not their fault they're here! We can at least try to make them feel welcome," I laughed sharply at his pleading look.
"First of all, don't call me 'Joe'. And see, the thing is, they're not welcome here. Newbies always cause a stir, which attracts attention, and –"
"Attention attracts trouble. I know sis," Devin instantly grew sober, and a blush rose on his cheeks.
"Besides, maybe there'll be some pretty Scottish-"
"Irish," I automatically corrected, and after rolling his eyes he continued.
"Maybe some pretty Irish girl will attract attention away from you." He looked away as I suddenly became very still. In a soft voice, I chided him gently.
"Devin, it's wrong to wish one's trouble on someone else." He hung his head, looking, despite our solemn conversation, much younger than his sixteen-or-so years.
"I know, I know. It's just that, I worry for you. I can't stand how they look at you." The word 'they' was said with such vehemence that I walked over to him and held his hands loosely in mine, trying to choose exactly the right words.
It was true that in the past few years I had grown beautiful. I don't say this to be vain; it was simply the truth. With long dark hair, equally dark eyes, a fine facial structure, I couldn't help but call attention to myself. Devin had the same features, and many girls in the village were half in love with him. Yet I was looked on with pity rather than envy; considering where I worked, neither beauty nor the attention it brought were welcome. It was a common fact that Nietzschean women often supplied any genetically deficient sons with pretty human girls, since they weren't allowed to marry a female Nietzschean.
Still, I actually feared more for Devin than myself. Apart from my parents, I had watched my two older sisters killed when Magog attacked; though I was quite young at the time, as well as numerous friends succumb to disease or starvation. Not to mention several beatings I had myself earned. Basically, I could handle anything that happened to me. I could deal with it. But Devin...if he got mad at the Nietzscheans, as he did when they stared and made lewd comments towards me, they would consider it great fun to play with and kill him, the same thing they'd done to our dad.
This constant worry over Devin was one of the reasons I had refrained from making other close friends. It was hard enough trying to protect one person, especially one like my brother whose natural personality constantly got him into trouble. Anymore such cares and my nerves would have been stretched way too tautly.
"Look, if it means that much to you, go greet them after work. We don't have anything better to do." A grin, along with dimples, split his face and he kissed me on the cheek excitedly.
"Thanks sis!"
"But don't you dare take them any of our food!" I called after him as he grabbed the midday meal I'd prepared for him and ran out the door, giving a quick wave goodbye. Knowing he wouldn't listen, I gave an exasperated sight and threw my hands up in the air. A gesture I had often watched my mother use when she was alive. But a smile crept onto my face nonetheless; despite his antics, Devin was the only one who could make me smile.
Grabbing my favorite, and only, shawl –it had once belonged to Mom- I started down the path to my own job.
My day didn't end until after sunset and I clutched the warm material around my thin dress tightly to fight off the chill. I had just reached the worst part of my journey home, dark walls on one side, dark open land on the other, when it happened. Something moved in the darkness. I stopped walking, trying to looking around, then cried out when I felt a hand on my shoulder. Without hesitation I turned and kicked the person in the stomach with all my power before turning to run.
"OW! Holy Mother of Earth! Ow!" Confused, I turned around again. It certainly didn't sound like a Nietzschean, but none of the villagers would have snuck up on me like that. Still wary, I stayed a few steps away and called out,
"Who are you?" The figure slowly stood up, clutching their stomach with one hand, the other pressed against the wall for support. The moon was covered by a cloud and there wasn't enough light to make out their features. Still, there was no way I could have hurt an Uber that much. Unless this was a trick?
"I'm –ow!-Evan, Evan Harper." The words were pronounced strangely, and I took a step closer, despite myself. In front of me stood a man, albeit a short one; no taller than I was, and as the clouds passed over the moon, I could see that he had bright blonde hair cut to his temple. His clothes were also strange, and he smelled as though he could use a bath. Altogether it took me about a minute to realize who this was.
"You're one of those newcomers," even I thought I said the words accusingly.
"And?" he asked angrily. Finally lifting his head, the man-Evan?- looked at me, about to say something else, but fell silent. His open- mouthed gaping irritated me.
"And," I snapped, fists planted on my hips, "What in the hell were you trying to do? You don't just go up to a stranger in the middle of the night and grab her by the shoulder! What did you expect to happen?" I could feel my face flush with anger, but now he too looked annoyed, as though he had any right to be! But then I noticed how young he looked; he might have been no older than Devin, and boys at that age always took offence easily.
"Look, I'm sorry, alright? I didn't mean to frighten you-"
"Trust me, I'd never be scared of you," I snorted.
"Oh yeah? Well that's not how it looked to me." I began to lift my foot, and he quickly raised one hand and took a step back. Crossing my arms and raising my eyebrows at him, he continued hastily.
"Anyway, I'm sorry! I just wanted some help, because I'm lost. I got separated from my brother and sister when we went to try and get something to eat. I'd never hurt a girl." Strangely enough, I believed him, though I would have bet my only pair of shoes that by 'try and get something to eat' he meant they were stealing.
"Fine. I'll take you back to the center of the village, but that's it. You've already wasted enough of my night." Without waiting for an answer I turned away from the direction leading back home and started walking.
For a moment there was silence, and I couldn't suppress a smile at the thought of him staring at me in bewilderment –and pain. Maybe I shouldn't have kicked him so hard...then again; he should have called out before grabbing my shoulder.
To my satisfaction I heard hurried footsteps a moment later, and then he was walking next to me. We were both silent for a few minutes as we walked, and then-
"So, d'you got a name?" he wanted a name did he? As if he deserved to know my name! I considered lying, but in the end I used my best weapon: silence.
"Ok...so, er what's this place like, anyhow?" Still I said nothing. We turned left, the center of the village almost visible. I was sure that I had shut that Evett, or Euan, or whatever his name was, up, but I was wrong.
"Fine; you don't want to talk. I'll supply both ends of the conversation." Looking at him sideways I saw that he'd stuck his hands in his pockets and was in much too cheerful a mood for someone I had just kicked.
"Now then, I'll just answer both my questions. Uh, let's see..." his voice trailed off, then resumed in a much higher pitched voice. "'A pleasure to meet you Evan, my name is..." I could almost feel him glance at me, but I stoically kept my face forward, telling myself that if I just ignored him, he'd stop. He didn't.
"'My name is Fiona. And may I add that you are a most handsome young man'..." I snorted, the light wasn't very good, but I seriously doubted he was handsome. And what kind of a name was 'Fiona'?
"Why, thank you Fiona; the pleasure's all mine. So tell me, what brings you out this time of night? 'Oh, I was just visiting my sweetheart- "Through this entire conversation he changed his voice from what he might call 'normal' to a 'girl' pitched voice. For the most part I found it irritating, but the last sentence really irked me. Before he could continue I turned and shoved my hands against his chest. He lost his balance and sprawled onto the ground. Standing over him, I said in a low voice,
"What is wrong with you? Do you try to annoy people? I was doing you a favor. So can you please just shut up?!" Instead of cowering, like most sane people I knew would have done, he just grinned up at me –a most infuriating expression, I should add.
"Guess that means you're single, eh?"
"Why -you annoying little!" I'm not sure why I didn't just turn and walk away. But I can't remember anyone being able to get underneath my skin in such a short amount of time. However, I didn't walk away. I raised my foot to give him another hard kick –no one ever accused me of being a pacifist- but before I could he kicked at my other leg and I fell forward.
"Bastard!" I yelled, trying to get up. I'd landed on top of him and was trying to claw at his face, but he caught my wrists. And then, still smiling, he absolutely signed his death warrant: He kissed me. I was so stunned that I froze, completely still. Luckily my senses quickly returned to me and I wrenched my wrists free, slapped him as hard as I could in that position, and stood up, going over all the ways in my head that I could kill him without getting caught.
"I –I'm sorry." Suddenly he was getting to his feet, and in the dim moonlight I could see that he looked rather shocked himself.
"That was wrong of me. It's just that, well, it's been a rough couple of days. Let me explain.." his eyes looked at me pleadingly, but I'd had more than enough of this.
"I could care less about your life story," shaking with anger, I pointed straight ahead of us. "Keep going that way and you should find your friends, assuming you weren't lying about all that." Wanting to say more, but not knowing what I wanted to say, I simply turned and stalked off towards home.
I wouldn't realize until morning that I'd forgotten my shawl, which had slipped off when he tripped me.
My thoughts were completely scattered as I made my way home. Inside Devin was sitting at the small dinner table, waiting up for me as he always does. Seeing the look on my face he quickly stood up and asked what was wrong. I thought about telling him what had happened, but then changed my mind, explaining that I was only tired.
I went through the motions of preparing for bed, the whole while Devin prattling on about some Irish babe.
"I'm telling you sis, she was gorgeous. Long blonde curls, the brightest green eyes you've ever seen! And her voice...!"
I smiled, nodded, and made noncommittal sounds, but my thoughts were still miles away. At last I told him we should go to bed.
"You're right; I told her I'd see her again tomorrow, so I don't want to be exhausted,"
I didn't answer; instead I blew out the lamp and settled into my bed. Next to me, Devin lay on the mat on the floor, already fast asleep. But I stayed awake for some time.
That was not how I'd imagined my first kiss.
Author's Note: Wow, can't you just tell there's some intense attraction going on there? Let me just say that when I first started writing this chapter, that was not how I imagined their meeting to be. Actually, I'd forgotten that Seamus grew up in Dunwich, and I had been going to have her save him from something in the ghetto. You know, dark alleyway, she's in the shadows and pulls him to safety...but instead their fight scene came about. Well, next time we'll see what Evan thought of the whole encounter. Anyway, thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed it!
-Luna Sealeaf