EP | Kate Barlow | Main Bar
Kate comes inside from checking on the stock one last time. There's been some... interesting activity outside over the last few months, not limited to the birth of a two-headed cow (who is, in the very strangest way, cute as a button), but all-in-all things continue as 'normal
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Many things have changed since she returned from France - no, even before then. When she returned from Colorado. Her affections are seldom as public as once they were; she plays things closer to the vest, bottling in emotions that once passed as freely over her features as a thunderstorm in the dead heat of summer. Her smiles lack enthusiasm and sincerity. Her eyes, as brilliant and blue as ever, are never quite as crisp.
But some things haven't changed at all. And her absolute hatred of feeling helpless - especially when feeling helpless to offer a dear friend comfort or reassurance - is one such thing.
Gently, slowly, she reaches across the distance between them and tenderly touches his cheek. She lingers, brow furrowed with unspoken emotion, but not long enough to make the boy nervous.
"You..." She finds her voice isn't as strong as she might hope, once she's pulled her hand away. "...owe me a recitation. Of all them poems you've been learnin'."
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In any case, still seated, he nods.
"Of course," he promises. "I'll make sure to read up a lot so there's more to choose from. And - um. You'll have to tell me about all the other poets and authors you know, too."
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Perhaps someday that invisible wall between them won't seem quite so high.
"Of course. It would be unspeakably negligent of me if I didn't make sure you had everythin' the nineteenth century had to offer by way of a proper education."
She smiles crookedly.
It's as close to a promise that she'll come back as she can reasonably get.
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