Chapter Two: Boxes
"Spitfire, I'm sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am."
She stood shock-still, mute, and vaguely horrified. There he was: Jim Hawkins, standing right there, on her threshold, holding boxes and flowers. She would have fainted had she not been made of the strong stuff handed down by her mother.
"What…are…you…doing here?" she asked.
"Apologizing, dumbass," he joked.
"Fuck off; I don't like stalkers, no matter how handsome they are."
And handsome he was. He wore a white uniform of an Academy graduate, polished and clean, looking so good, it wasn't to be believed.
"So, are you going to let me in and shower you with gifts, or are you going to slam the door in my face?" She stepped aside and let him in, somewhat numbly, barely realizing what she was doing.
"I take it you went to the Academy?"
"Spitfire, you've never been one to point out the obvious. Anyways, I'm not here to tell you my tale, I'm here for you." He dropped down on his knees and offered up the flowers, a bunch of rare Earth flowers: thornless roses, azaleas, lilies, and gardenias. She took it and sniffed deeply. They were lovely.
Kiera led him to the sitting room and showed him a chair, though he refused to sit until she seated herself on the antique chaise lounge (a rare find in a flea market).
The next box offered chocolates of all shapes, flavors, textures, and colors. Kiera popped one in her mouth and savored the flavor. She often didn't allow herself sweet things these days. She was always too busy weaving expensive and luxurious cloth to sell.
The second, third, and fourth boxes held jewelry. A necklace with the caricature of a flying bird made of silver and diamonds. A pendant in the shape of moon. A topaz choker. Expensive white gold hoops, eighteen pairs, one hoop for each piercing; ruby droplets, black and pink pearls, sapphire flowers, and one pair of spectacular emeralds that would dangle off of her ears on diamond threads. Bangles of gold, cuffs encrusted with pink coral, chains of jewels, and ropes of pearls, all for her. The sheer number of these gifts astounded her.
The fifth box and the sixth box, Jim was hesitant about.
"They are something that took me a long time to pick out. I don't know if you'll like them or not, Kiera," he said.
"I'm impressed, Jim, you just used my real name." And it was vaguely impressing; he usually affectionately called her 'spitfire'.
"I've used it before, haven't I? Back when we were just friends, right?"
"Just friends?! Just friends?! You would passionately snog me before you left on that ship! You have no idea how heartbroken and angry I was! It's taking all I can do not to burst into tears or throw you out! I was…I was obsessed with you, Jim! I can't count all the nights I stayed up to stare at you through the window!" she screamed, dropping the box on her lap to the floor.
"I'm sorry, Kiera," he murmured, cowering under her rage. "I'm really trying to make it up to you the best I can."
She gained some control again. "Jim, just leave, just go now. Talk to me tomorrow." She stuck out her hand to shake and he took it, only to use it as a rope, reeling her into and embrace. His arms still felt so good after all of these years. He kissed her forehead, her nose, her cheeks, all tenderly and left.
Kiera put all of the jewelry back in their boxes, put them in her room, and fell asleep without even getting undressed.