Chapter 5

The boy with the scar

After two weeks I was introduced to my job, and I was qualified to do a more precise task: to spud up weeds behind the bower of the royal family. You can't even imagine how not-amused I was when I heard this was what I had to do the rest of my life. Unless I got fired because of my "left hand issue". Or for speaking out loud that Mr. Lawnmower was a jerk, which was even more likely to happen. Armed with bucket and shovel I went on with this "expedition for advanced".

Of course, the flowers were already breathtakingly beautiful. Maybe I could just hide from the sun, taking a little well-earned break. When I was sure no-one could see me, I laid down on the cool earth behind the firelilies. I closed my eyes and imagined what I would have done when I was home, workless, careless. Most likely sleeping. Maybe a little nap wasn't too bad. I felt the soft earth, the muggy air, the…

'You are really brilliant with nature, you know…'

I quickly opened my eyes as the voice reached my ears. How long had I been sleeping? And who was the voice? It wasn't Mr. Lawnmower's, he had a low and strict voice that caused goose bumps when he spoke too loudly. No, this voice was younger, nicer. Hoarse but confident.

'…Most gardeners have to work their socks off, but you just have to lie on flowers to make them look more beautiful. Impressive.'

I looked up, following the pleasant tone of voice. I looked into the smiling face of a gorgeous guy. His long black hair was combed to the left, so I could see only one half of his face. Yet it was the most beautiful guy I had ever seen. Not that I had seen much attractive boys in the past sixteen years, I wasn't even interested in romance. I could handle myself, and didn't need a guy to look after me. Yuk, the idea of losing my freedom!

But I knew this boy was different, with his hair shining in the dimmed sunlight that shimmered through the trees. The one eye I could see was gold and inviting, and his body was tall and slim, yet he seemed muscular underneath the simple garb he was wearing. He was grinning friendly and charming, standing there and looking at me. I wondered if the firelord had given him permission to behave this way, hanging around in his bower and distract labourers. As if he heard me thinking, which was quite possible since I think aloud sometimes, he jumped over the fence of the bower, landing half a meter next to me. The thing that stroke me was the large scar he tried to hide carefully with his hair. But his disguise failed as his hair rose upwards as the scalding air caressed it. And then I knew I had seen him before. I couldn't point out his name, but his face was so familiar. But instead of the name of this gift of heaven, I always said stupid things near boys.

'Hey there, mind the flowers!'

And that I was stammering just because couldn't find something less flattering to say. I felt sorry for him being around this insecure me, and yet I hated him because he made me babble stupid things.

'They're just flowers, calm down', he said with a twist of mock in his voice.

'Don't you let them hear that remark.'

I wás calm. I just tried to turn his comment into a joke, couldn't he see? Never mind, the temperature was way to high for this kind of jokes. He didn't even laugh. I decided he was stupid. But pretty, which solved about eighty percent of the issue. Still I wondered who this scarred guy could be.


I still don't own Avatar, and probably never will (unless I win the lottery, maybe). Do I really have to say this stuff all the times to esteem copywrite?!

And I would value your reactions. SO HIT THAT GREEN BUTTON OR...

...no wait, I won't eat your mommy alive *_*

Gosh I really suck at threathening people.