(no subject)
He said very little as they made their way up the rocky path. At moments the climb was rough enough to require the use of a hand, but that alone could not account for his silence. He was nervous, and having lived so much of his life under the concealing shelter of a hood, Thorn was not good at hiding his emotions. The day was overcast, and he wore no hood now. Whenever Courtney looked his way, his ears turned a brighter shade of red beneath the scabs. He had asked her to come on this outing, and for what? The silence of the climb was not so much companionable as it was awkward.
At the top was a broad rocky outcropping, and the view was spectacular. She allowed a long moment for them both to catch their breath, longer, perhaps, than was strictly necessary. In the end she broke down, but struggled to keep the impatience from her voice. "You said you wanted to talk to me. About what?"
Thorn fidgeted, twisting a stray thread from his sleeve around and around one gloved finger. "Uhm... mm... er..." His ears, even his cheeks, were red now. Fumbling, he finally reached into his pocket and pulled out a neatly folded piece of heavy paper. He offered it to her without a word.
The first letter was surrounded by flowers and vines, carefully drawn in fine markers. Every word was in his best neat and always calligraphic hand. By the time she reached the bottom of the page, Courtney too was blushing. She said nothing more aloud, but edged closer, and slid her arms around him. She should have known his most eloquent moments were always quiet ones.
At the top was a broad rocky outcropping, and the view was spectacular. She allowed a long moment for them both to catch their breath, longer, perhaps, than was strictly necessary. In the end she broke down, but struggled to keep the impatience from her voice. "You said you wanted to talk to me. About what?"
Thorn fidgeted, twisting a stray thread from his sleeve around and around one gloved finger. "Uhm... mm... er..." His ears, even his cheeks, were red now. Fumbling, he finally reached into his pocket and pulled out a neatly folded piece of heavy paper. He offered it to her without a word.
The first letter was surrounded by flowers and vines, carefully drawn in fine markers. Every word was in his best neat and always calligraphic hand. By the time she reached the bottom of the page, Courtney too was blushing. She said nothing more aloud, but edged closer, and slid her arms around him. She should have known his most eloquent moments were always quiet ones.