White Violets (First)
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I didn’t think it would feel this empty.
The freezing wind ripped through my black hair, my feet numb and bare in the crystal frosted grass. The clouds were rolled in the sky above, blocking out the stars and nearly all light. I fell down onto my knees, letting my head rest against the cold, rough stone of my parent’s grave.
I knew there wouldn’t be answers here. I knew not to get my hopes up. And yet…
Here I was. Crying at my parent’s grave, more lost and alone than ever.
“Excuse me, miss,” A crisp voice called out, a strong Irish tint to its words. “But the cemetery’s closed for the evening.
My head shot up, shocked that I hadn’t noticed the man earlier.
“I thought this was public property,” I snapped at him, trying my best to hide my tear-torn voice.
“Um, not exactly,” the man said, his voice sounding cautious. “Are you alright, miss?”
“I’m fine, and stop calling me miss.” I got up, attempting to brush the already melted frost from my jeans.
“Are you sure?” he asked, quite obviously eying my bare feet.
“Positive,” I said with a sniff, walking past him.
“You aren’t from around here, are you?”
I stopped, turning to look at him. “You ask an awful lot of questions.”
“I…just… kind of know everyone who lives here. It’s a small town, mi-ma’am. And I think I’d remember your face.”
Was he… hitting on me?!
“It’s none of your damn business,” I hissed at him, turning again.
I felt his hand gently on my shoulder. “Wait! Hold on a moment, I was just going to ask you if you needed a place to stay! There isn’t a hotel or motel for miles, and, well, I have a place…”
“I don’t even know your name and you’re asking me to stay at your place!” I scoffed hysterically, shaking off the hand.
“My name’s Peter Ring,” he mumbled, obviously put at unease by my hostility. What, did he expect me not to refuse?
“That changes nothing.”
I could’ve sworn I heard him mumble, “Well, you said you wanted my name,” before continuing, “Fine, but where will you stay?”
I stopped dead in my tracks.
“Like I said, there’s nowhere around to stay. How you even got here in the first place… Anyways, I keep the doors unlocked, so you’re welcome to come and go as you please.”
“Why do you want me to come so badly?”
He paused a moment. “I can’t leave a girl out in the cold like this, with nowhere to go. And I have plenty of room; it’d be rude of me not to offer.”
And for a moment, my resolve wavered. I didn’t have anywhere to go, and it wasn’t safe to stay out. My car had broken down miles from here, and then the incident with my shoes… Well, I was a moron if I stayed out any longer.
“Fine,” I snapped, crossing my arms in a reluctant resignation, yet again turning to see him with a soft smile.
“Good, then. This way.”
(A/N: For the first time ever (aka, like the third time), White Violets is no longer exclusively on FB! No, instead it's on my totally dead LJ that no one reads! Ah, well. I like using this place for storage anyhow.
I blame my writing buddies for the existence of this story. I SHOULD be editing the novel I'm serious about, but nooooo...
Oh, and this is totally all unedited. Yes, I'm ridiculously out of it and should not be typing. Yah know.)