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“…SO, what were you two talking about? Since Miguel told you to ‘ask the man himself,’ I can only assume it was about me?”
Oriana was lost in bliss, enjoying the feel of Vincent’s hair on her skin when he suddenly sprung that question on her. She pulled her hand away from his head and retracted herself, but before she could make it far, he grabbed her wrist again and stopped her.
“You should know better than to think you can run now,” he said.
“R-Right… Haha, haha.” She forced herself to laugh, eyes traveling down to Vincent’s hand. His bony fingers were wrapped securely around her wrist. Even his palm was so much bigger than hers, but she didn’t find anything scary about that, perhaps because he showed no intention of hurting her. In fact, if anything, she was happy he’d seized her.
If I swore to him I wouldn’t run away even if he let me go, I wonder if he’d stop holding onto me? Since him latching onto her posed no issues, she decided not to bother.
“Does it have something to do with why you have been so spaced out lately?”
Bullseye.
Even though Oriana wanted to play it off, she figured that would be difficult. She’d been way too conscious of him recently, and now they were standing super close. She wasn’t confident she could successfully brush his question aside.
After a brief pause, she said, “I gave Miguel candy.”
“Pardon?”
“Daddy got his hands on some super yummy candy, and I figured Miguel would enjoy it more than I would.”
Crap. I’m talking unnaturally fast. I need to cool it before I blow it.
“So, I was thinking of getting you a present, too,” Oriana continued.
“In other words, I come second.”
Actually, Miguel was the one who came second since Vincent was her main goal in all of this. Either way, she quickly shook her head. “No, see, that’s what’s been bothering me lately. I kept wondering what you’d like. I couldn’t come up with anything, so I asked Miguel.”
“In that case, you could have just asked me directly.”
“Yeah, you got me there. I swear, I’ll be sure to do that in the future.”
“Please see that you do.”
Oriana realized too that, for whatever reason, she had a habit of refraining when it came to Vincent. She had no problems relying on other people, but the thought of leaning on Vincent made her feel guilty more than anything else.
I’m sure it’s probably because I’m in love with him.
Even so, Vincent had noticed and confronted her, pouting as he did so. He probably thought she’d completely ignored him as a friend, but rather than cut her off for it, he came to her with his feelings. And right now, he’s telling me to ask him directly. He’s giving me permission to come to him, no matter how trivial the matter.
“Hm, as for what I like… I haven’t given it much thought. Allow me to give it some consideration ’til we meet next.”
“Whaaa?”
Vincent’s response was so unbelievable that her previously thundering heart abruptly stilled.
“Think about what?” Oriana asked.
“About what I like. That’s what you wanted to know, right?”
Was it really necessary to think about what one liked? Vincent must have glimpsed the serious expression on her face and guessed what she wanted to say because he gave a strangled laugh and explained, “I think I told you before that I haven’t practiced introspection much. Ridiculous, isn’t it? Something as simple as my own preferences, and I can’t even answer off the top of my head.”
Seeing the way Vincent lived as the heir to a ducal house, Oriana felt a pressing urge to do something for him. Specifically, she wanted to stuff him full of his favorite food.
“Lately, I have been so busy that I haven’t had time to do anything that wasn’t strictly necessary. That’s why nothing immediately comes to mind. If I give it some thought, I am sure I can come up with something.”
“In that case, let’s think together,” Oriana suggested.
“I’ll only bore you.”
“Didn’t you just tell me to ask you questions directly?”
Vincent flashed her an indecipherable smile, as if he was hesitant to let her step past his walls. Oriana pretended not to notice his feelings, though. After all, you’re the one who gave me permission to do so just a minute ago.
“When’s the last time you did something that wasn’t ‘strictly necessary’?” Oriana asked.
“That’s a good question. Hm, when was it…”
“Then how about this, what sticks out in your mind the most?”
Vincent obediently contemplated her question. She waited quietly in the meantime, not wanting to interrupt him. In the silence, however, her mind immediately wandered to his hand, which was still latched onto her wrist. Vincent seemed to have completely spaced it out, which was likely why he hadn’t yet let go. Part of her didn’t want him to forget about it, but on the other hand, if he remembered, he’d probably pull away.
In the end, she decided to leave it up to him. There was no way she could forsake his warmth.
“I guess it was…a letter,” Vincent blurted out, finally arriving at an answer.
“A letter?”
“Yeah. I wrote a letter.”
“Is a letter really that unnecessary to write?”
Vincent chuckled. It felt like his fingers were squeezing tighter around her wrist, but maybe that was her imagination.
“It wasn’t really an emergency,” he explained. “I simply wrote a response letter because I wanted to.”
Personally, Oriana thought all letters were like that, but apparently Vincent considered them unnecessary. It being a response can only mean that someone must have penned a letter to him initially. Oriana nonchalantly glanced at Vincent, regretting that she’d ever asked.
It must have been Sharon, she thought. It was especially apparent by the way Vincent gazed out the window, wearing the gentlest look on his face—one she’d never seen before. She knew immediately he was thinking of the woman he loved.
I’d write you letters too, you know. Dozens and dozens, if need be. But in her case, he might not pen a reply, deeming it unnecessary. Oriana could just picture it now: only getting a response when he considers it absolutely essential. It made her want to cry.
“In that letter…” Vincent gazed up at the sky as he continued, “I wrote about how I’d eaten a muffin for breakfast, with lemon on top of it. I struggled so much over whether to bother mentioning it since it seemed pointless, but…in the end, I did. I wrote about it because I thought it would make her happy. I pictured her smiling in my mind, and I wrote something completely unnecessary.”
His voice was so soft and so warm. Oriana pretended to nod, even as her thoughts drifted. I guess this is what it’s like, falling in love with someone whose heart is already set on another. It made her chest ache so painfully it was stifling. Sharon seemed to know so much more about Vincent than she did. As much as she suffered for her unrequited love, however, Oriana didn’t want to return to the past before she’d developed these feelings.
“So…you like muffins?” Oriana struggled to make sure her voice didn’t falter.
“They’re all right.”
“Well, what about lemons?”
“I think I might like them.” He flashed a boyish smile at her—one she might expect on a much younger boy who’d successfully casted his very first spell—and looked straight at her. Oriana beamed right back at him.
This sucks… Oriana suspected that no matter how many lemons she gave him, they would never taste as sweet to him as the day from his memories. Ugh. Now I really hate lemons.
It was a shame; she finally knew a little more about the preferences of the boy she loved, but suddenly, she never wanted to see that yellow-colored fruit ever again.
To Be Continued…