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mitchiemoo · 4 years

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Close Up-Part 1 (Johnny Joestar x Reader)

Summary: You are an upcoming, young actress, starring in your first major film. For publicity, the studio suggests you begin a relationship with your co-star, British thespian Diego Brando. Reluctantly, you agree, and soon find yourself at odds with Johnny Joestar, former Hollywood star. After losing his career and the use of his legs, Johnny offers to help you achieve fame but cautions the price. Is it really the fame you want? Or something else?

Warnings: Explicit language

Word Count: 3,539

“Darling, I promise I’ll return. When I do, I will be a true gentleman, one worthy of your affection.” Diego’s eyes gazed intently into your own as he raised your hands to his lips and kissed them.

You gasped and stepped back in shock. “Oh, sir,” you said. “You needn’t earn my affection, for I have already given it to you. If I am to be the wife of a tailor, then so be it. Please stay.”

Diego rose to his feet and gripped your hands tighter. “No, I must go. I shall better myself to provide the life you deserve. My father was a cruel man, who worked my poor mother into an early grave. The day he died, I resolved to never become a monster like him.” His voice shook with emotion and you could hear the desperation in his voice. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, right on cue.

“They shall wed me to another man before you return. Search your heart, you know it to be true. What shall you do with your fortune then?”

A shout came from off stage. “Elena! Jonah is looking for you.”

Panic crossed Diego’s face as you snatched your hands from his grasp and turned away. “I’m sorry, I must leave now. Goodbye, Dorian.”

“Wait!” He called after you as you rushed off stage.

“Cut!”

You breathed a sigh of relief as the lights dimmed and the bell rang. It was hot. Oppressively so. Especially in your costume. Sweat soaked the back of your neck and the under layers of your dress stuck to your skin. No wonder Victorian women were so prone to fainting spells. The late 19th century dress you wore was exquisite and you admired yourself in the mirror while wearing it many times. But the skirts were extremely heavy and restricted your movements.

It was a relief when you plopped down on one of the prop couches scattered around the set. The ornate fan your character used in an earlier scene laid discarded on the spot next to you. You opened it and desperately fanned yourself.

“Would you like some water, miss?” One of the stagehands offered. You nodded and wiped at your teary eyes absentmindedly before you remembered you were wearing make-up. Oops. The stylist would not be happy with you.

“Good read today.” You looked up.

Your co-star, Diego Brando, stood in front of you, looking extremely disinterested. He had shed the dark blue coat he wore in the scene and rolled up the sleeves of his plain white button down. It looked like he barely broke a sweat. “Although, you should try to look more devastated. At least you didn’t forget your lines today.”

If he said that to you at the beginning of filming, you would’ve been fighting back tears. Now, you simply brushed it off. Diego Brando was a world-famous actor. He had been classically trained at the Royal Shakespeare Academy and performed in several critically acclaimed plays before his debut on the silver screen at age 19. Compared to him, you were nothing. This was your first major role and the extent of your training was reading Shakespeare aloud for your family as a child.

“Thank you, I’ll keep that in mind.” You said through gritted teeth, picking at the intricate golden embroidery on your dress. The stagehand you sent to find water returned and you immediately began gulping it down.

You were surprised when he sat down beside you. He sighed and ran a hand through his golden blond hair.

“Look,” he started. “There’s a fundraiser tonight at one of the local art galleries and the studio wants us to go together, as a couple.”

You choked.

“Wh-what?” you managed to sputter out.

Diego rolled his eyes. “Don’t get too excited, alright? You’re not my type and frankly, I’m not attracted to you in the slightest.” He continued. “The producers and studio executives think this is a good way to get publicity for the film and help our, err, your career.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. Normally you would be insulted by Diego’s words but if working with him had taught you anything about him, it was his strong sense of pride. Nobody was good enough for Diego Brando, not even himself. Especially unknown, amateur actresses like you.

“How does going out in public with you help me, exactly?” You asked.

“Don’t sound so ungrateful, love. Thousands of other girls would kill to be in your position.” He spat and waved his hand dismissively. “We get photographed together, the press makes a fuss about ‘Diego Brando’s mystery girl’, who she is, where she’s from. The public wants to see more of our chemistry and go see the movie. The film’s a success, you’ll be named one of Hollywood’s most promising newcomers and a few months later, we quietly ‘separate.’”

You looked down at the ice in your glass, quietly mulling over Diego’s proposition. All you had to do was pretend to fawn all over him at award shows and fancy parties, where other famous actors and directors were, and your movie would draw crowds of people? It was too good to be true. The only downside you could think of was spending more time with Diego. Your lip curled in distaste.

“How long would this arrangement last?” You asked, tentatively.

“About six months.” He replied. “Like I said, everybody benefits. You get a handsome bachelor, I get free publicity, and the studio makes a bunch of money. Do we have a deal?” He extended his hand and smirked. You hesitated. Six months for a fruitful career and a lifetime of success? What could go wrong?

You shook his hand and were surprised by how firm his grip was. “Deal.”

“Smart move, darling.”

The bell rang again, signaling the end of the break. Diego stood up and offered you his hand again. You set the fan and empty glass aside and he pulled you up from your seat. “My driver and I will pick you up at 7. Dress code is black tie and please, don’t be late.”

He turned on his heel to walk back onto set. As you followed, you couldn’t ignore the growing sense of trepidation brewing in your heart. What could go wrong?

Shortly after filming ended that day, you took a cab back to your apartment and inspected your closet. Diego specified black tie, which meant a full-length evening gown, gloves, and jewelry. You had a few nice dresses from the department store, three of them full length. Sure, they wouldn’t be as elegant or glamorous as the Dior, Chanel, and Balenciaga gowns you’d see tonight but that just gave you something else to strive for. Maybe next time you would be the one wearing Chanel and turning heads.

You drew a cool bath and scrubbed your face and hair free of make-up and styling products. Of course, you were going to have to reapply them later but for the moment, you felt very refreshed.

Before you left the set that day, you asked your stylist to recommend some good salons in the area. Your hair and make-up skills were limited so you opted to have it professionally done. Diego made it sound like there would be photographers everywhere and you wanted to look your best.

The gravity of your situation didn’t really register until you were sitting in the stylist’s chair and staring at yourself in the mirror, that visceral moment when suddenly every blemish and flaw seemed magnified. Your stylist was a talkative lady with pink hair, but you were only half listening to what she was saying. This arrangement was only temporary, you reasoned, and then you would be free of him. But deep down, you knew you would never really be free of him.

For the next six months, you would be “Diego Brando’s girlfriend” and after you separated, you’d still be known as “that girl who dated Diego Brando” or “Diego Brando’s ex.” You came to Hollywood to make a name for yourself, to be admired for your work, to be remembered as something greater than “so-and-so’s ex.” When you left your hometown to become an actress, you knew the risks, but the rewards were better than any opportunity available there. You were patient, auditioning for minor roles at first and building up your resume until you decided to audition for a few major parts. Just when it seemed like your hard work was paying off, you made a deal with the devil, disguised as a charming British thespian.

“What do you think?” The girl chirped, breaking you out of your thoughts.

She definitely did a nice job. You barely recognized yourself. The make-up was tastefully done and not nearly as caked on as your usual “stage face.” She pinned your hair up in an elegant up do, which brought special attention to your face and kept the back of your neck cool. You nodded approvingly, tipped her well and headed back to your apartment to finish getting ready.

As promised, a limousine pulled up to the front of your building at exactly seven o’clock. It seemed Diego was a punctual man and you had to admit he looked handsome in his gray, three-piece Armani suit. He greeted you curtly when you slid into the back with him and then immediately started dictating how the night would go.

“So, when we pull up to the gallery, there will be a lot of cameras flashing, alright? I get out first, then I help you out, like the gentleman I am.” Diego eyed you in your pale blue dress like a jeweler appraising a gemstone. “You look decent enough, I suppose. I’ll buy you the dress next time although they won’t really be paying attention to you.”

You frowned. “Isn’t that the whole point of this?”

“Relax, love, you have six months to catch their attention.” He crooned. “Just think of this as acting experience. If you want to be as big a star as me someday, you’ll have to get used to the flashing lights, invasive questions, and lack of personal space.”

You looked out the tinted windows at the passing streetlights. You imagined them as eyes peering into the dark leather interior, prying into your innermost thoughts. If what Diego said was true, when you were famous and in the public eye, every move you made was picked apart by paparazzi, who descended like a kettle of vultures. One wrong move and you’d be vilified. If something that was meant to stay private leaked out, there would be an outcry of scandal that could, depending on what it was, jeopardize your whole career.

Another thought suddenly crossed your mind. “Diego,” you said. “Are you going to kiss me?”

He tensed beside you. “Err, probably not. The most I’d do is hold your hand or put my arm around you like this while we’re sitting.” You felt his arm snake around the back of the seat. “Even in my real relationships, I don’t care for too many public displays of affection. I don’t think it’s very professional, really.”

You nodded thoughtfully. “I agree and I feel it’s ‘too soon’ in the relationship to do that. This is our first public event together, after all. Let’s leave them wanting.”

“What’re you thinking?”

“I’m thinking less is more. The press would go wild for a picture of us kissing, especially if we never do it.” You said. “Let’s fuel the fire and make them fan the flames.”

The glow of the passing streetlamps illuminated Diego’s face, casting it in shadow. A glint caught in his eye. “I like the way you think.”

The limousine jerked to a stop and suddenly you were very aware of your department store dress, hand-me down pearl necklace, and $70-dollar hair do. You swallowed and gripped at the small clutch purse you brought. Diego had told you what to do. Smile and look pretty, let him lead you to the door. The hardest part was getting inside. If this was the kind of fame you wanted, you couldn’t let the people and flashing lights overwhelm you.

Diego was a shrewd operator. Every movement he made was calculated and perfected, so it appeared seamless. For you, everything was a blur of faces and cameras and people shouting over each other. You were pretty sure you heard “Diego!” and “Who’s that?” over the commotion. This time, Diego’s firm grip was comforting, and you concentrated on the back of his blond head as he led you down the concrete path.

Your heels clicked on the white marble flooring of the entrance way and you breathed a sigh of relief. Diego let go of your hand and scanned the room. “That went well.” He said. You inspected your palms and saw little crescents indented in the skin. “Do you ever cut your fingernails? They’re like claws.”

“Oi, I clip my fingernails once a week like everyone else. They just grow fast is all.” Diego said defensively. “You have a death grip like a construction worker. Maybe you should’ve done that instead of acting.”

You rolled your eyes and looked around. The gallery was large and open with white marble floors lined with royal blue carpets, and cream-colored walls decorated by avant-garde paintings. A large set of double oak doors was at the end of the room. Fellow guests milled around the entryway in groups, but you didn’t see anyone you would recognize.

“What’s this fundraiser for, anyway?” You asked.

Diego shrugged. “No idea. I just got the invitation in the post and saw Steven Steel’s name on it. Figured it’d be a good excuse to dress up and eat fancy food with other rich people.” Your stomach growled when he mentioned food. The last thing you ate was a handful of blueberries and a soggy sandwich on set that afternoon. You were starving.

He offered you his arm, which you took, and led you through the double doors into the main showroom. You glanced around at the various tables along the floor and spotted several famous faces. The man with the tall silver-blond hair was French actor Jean-Pierre Polnareff and sitting next to him was the famous Egyptian magician Mohammed Avdol. At the table next to theirs was the famous British fashion model Lisa Lisa, impeccably poised and smoking a cigarette in a fancy holder. A few people turned in their seats to look at you and Diego as you passed.

“Ugh, look who’s at our table.” You heard Diego scoff.

You were shocked.

It was Johnny Joestar.

The Joestars were basically Hollywood royalty and Johnny was no exception. Dubbed “Joe Kid” by his fans, Johnny was the face of young Hollywood, an All-American country boy with cute dimples and a youthful face. He made a name for himself playing the righteous young cowboy protagonist in Western action films, the hero who saved the girl and brought justice to a lawless landscape. Everyone knew him and it seemed like his star would only grow brighter.

Until the accident happened.

It was about a year ago. The papers said Johnny was on a walk with his girlfriend one evening when a crazed fan came up from behind and shot him in the back. He lived, fortunately, but was paralyzed from the waist down and would need to use a wheelchair for the rest of his life. The studio abruptly ended his contract and he hadn’t been seen or mentioned since.

“Joestar,” Diego hissed. He pulled out your chair and pushed you into the table before taking his place beside you. The three of you were the only ones there, so far, and Johnny sat across from you in his wheelchair. It struck you how different he looked in real life. His tousled blond hair reached his shoulders now and for someone known for his dimples, it seemed like a scowl was permanently etched on his face.

Johnny sneered. “Ugh, I should’a known you’d be here tonight, Diego. Never could resist an opportunity to boot lick.”

You knew Johnny and Diego had a history. They had been rivals, once, before Johnny’s accident. They competed for roles, awards, and the hearts of beautiful women. Diego held nothing but contempt for his former rival. He claimed Johnny didn’t have a shred of talent and used the Joestar name to get his roles instead of working hard to earn his fame, like he had. “I came from nothing” he was so fond of reminding you. The feeling was mutual, at least from what you read. Johnny once called Diego “a stuck-up prick who should go back to community theater.”

“Who invited you, anyway? I thought it was clear no one wanted you around since you lost your legs.” Diego said.

You bit your lip and looked down at your lap. Should you say something? Diego could be a heartless bastard, you knew that. Honestly, you felt for Johnny. This man had lost everything. What happened was an accident, he didn’t deserve to get shot, no matter how much the media tried to demonize him.

You gently touched his arm. “Diego, dear, be nice.” You implored, batting your eyelashes for effect. “Please, for me?”

Johnny narrowed eyes and turned his pale blue gaze towards you. They were much more intense in person and once again you were aware of how insignificant you were compared to people like him. “Who’s this?”

Diego looked at you with a simpering smile and draped his arm over the back of your chair, like you’d practiced in the limousine. “This is my new girlfriend.” He replied. “Jealous?”

Johnny regarded you for a moment. “Lemme guess, you’re his co-star? What’s your name?”

You told him and reached over to shake his hand. “It’s so nice to meet you, Mr. Joestar. I’m a big fan of your work.”

You weren’t lying. If any singular actor inspired you to finally move to Hollywood and pursue your dream, it was him. Westerns were far from your favorite genre but if Johnny Joestar was starring in it, you’d drag your family to see it anyway. It was surreal for you to be so close to him.

He nodded politely and shook your hand. You were surprised by how rough and calloused his palms were. “You must be new. I’m not familiar with any of your roles.”

“Yes, this is my first major role. I was very excited when I found out I was going to be working with Diego Brando.” You said. “I’ve learned so much from him.”

“This movie is going to be a hit.” Diego cut in. “Darling, you’re such a captivating actress, everyone will adore you.”

“How long have you two been together?” Johnny asked.

“Two weeks.” Replied Diego.

Johnny went quiet for a moment, inspecting his fingernails intently. “I see,” he said. “Sleeping with Diego is a smart career move. Come up with it yourself?”

An indignant “what” was all you could manage as color bled across your cheeks.

Johnny wasn’t fazed at all. “Listen, I don’t much like lyin’ to people, so I’ll tell you this. When I look at you, I don’t see ‘star material.’ You got a decent figure and a marginally pretty face but nothing about you stands out. They don’t care how good your acting is, it’ll never be good enough for the kinda fame you want. You can be a good actress, but you’ll never be a star.”

You were fuming. Absolutely livid. Who did he think he was? He didn’t know you! He was just bitter. Jealous of the fact that you had a promising career when his ended prematurely. At first, you felt bad for him. Now? You couldn’t even look at him without seeing red.

“You’re better off this way, promise.” Johnny continued, though you could barely hear him over the thundering of your own heart in your ears. “Nobody in this town gives a shit about you when you stop making them money. They’ll turn you out on your back the minute you can’t be their ideal person. The price of fame isn’t worth it.”

You weren’t listening anymore. Any sympathy you had for Johnny and his situation was completely evaporated by the heat of your anger. Diego and the media were right. He was an asshole. Another person to prove wrong. Your movie would be a success. Over the next six months, you’d endear yourself to the public, charm the Hollywood elite and once you secured your place, he’d see how wrong he was.

“Oi mate, you can fuck off.” Diego interjected.

“Eat shit.”

You shot up from your chair and grabbed your purse off the table. “Excuse me, I’m going to the bathroom.” You said quietly, desperately trying to keep your voice from cracking. Your throat felt tight and tears gathered at the corners of your eyes as your emotions boiled over. At least the next time you needed to cry on command, you could think back on Johnny’s words, which still echoed inside your skull. They stung. A lot. And as you hurried through the maze of tables, all you could think about was how true they might be.

This is my first time posting on tumblr and I was really excited to share this! Hope you enjoyed it. My inbox is open so if you have any comments or feedback, I’d love to hear it. Even if you just want to chat, I’d love to get to know the community.

#jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #johnny joestar x reader #diego brando x reader #johnny joestar #diego brando #jjba x reader #mitchie's writing

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reivenesque · 7 years

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Cindereva CH6

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Chapter 6: The Fair and a Maiden

They fall into something of a routine after Eva starts working again and Chris is slowly but surely regaining his health and his strength. Over the next couple of days, Eva would wake up, by this point Chris had insisted that she continue sleeping across the width near the foot of the bed, where she’d slept that first time after a week of trying to find a comfortable position on the hard wooden chairs, while he’d sleep in a similar position near the headboard. It left his legs hanging off the edge but he was adamant that it wasn’t anything he couldn’t deal with. It meant that Eva would get to sleep in her own bed, while still getting her way and not allowing Chris to sleep anywhere other than the bed and it still left a respectable distance between them.

Usually Chris would already be up by the time Eva awakens; he’d be staring out the window into the canopy of trees behind the cottage, or he’d be walking around the small space, looking at the few knick-knacks Eva had collected, decorating her home.

But sometimes Eva would wake up to find Chris sitting up with his back against the headboard, silently watching her while she slept. That was one thing that always left her a blushing mess, and she noticed with a hint of annoyance that her embarrassment would only cause him to grin one of his small lopsided grins that she never grew tired of seeing.

Eva would fix up breakfast for the two of them, and leave out some bread and cheese, or whenever she’d go into town and bring back pie, for Chris in case he got hungry. And then she’d leave, walking down the path away from her cottage, forcing herself to not look back and see Chris’s figure standing by the door, staring at her back as she was walking away. She tried not to smile, but fails every single time.

Nearing the end of the working week, after she’d been back at work for about four days, she reaches her cottage and notices with some confusion that the clothes she’d hung out to dry that morning was absent from the clothes line.

She enters; the question as her lips but before she can verbalize it she immediately notices all her clothes folded and stacked neatly on the dinner table and Chris standing by the sink putting away the dishes.

“Welcome back,” he greets when she enters, turning around to face her.

“Um—thank you,” Eva stutters out, looking between her clothes and Chris. “Did you take my in laundry? You really didn’t have to.”

“I needed to do something,” he said, “And it’s really nothing, compared to everything you’ve done for me this whole time.”

Eva smiles at that and places her basket aside, pulling off her red hood and unlatching the clasp, sliding it off her shoulders but before she can reach to place it over the back of the chair in front of her, Chris has walked over and taken it out of her grasp, hanging it up on the hook behind the door where she usually hung it.

Eva tries not to grin too wide, brushing a couple of free strands of hair behind her ear.

“Chris,” she starts, calling his name as she pulls a chair out and takes seat. He turns around immediately and hmms a soft inquiring sound. “Are you…are you okay—with being here? I mean, you’ve been stuck in this small cottage for almost two weeks and—and I was wondering if you were not bored?”

He walks on over and pulls out the chair across from her, looking at her intently. “Where I’m from, having time to be bored is something of a luxury,” he says as a matter-of-factly.

And Eva lets out a small disappointed oh despite herself.

“Why?” he asks, after gouging her reaction. She can tell that he felt guilty about his response. “Did you want to do something?”

“No…I mean—it’s nothing important, I was just concerned that you getting tired of being stuck in doors for so long.”

It isn’t the complete truth and Eva knows Chris can tell even though she isn’t currently looking at him.

“If it’s something you want to do, then it is important,” he says, and once again Eva is left absolutely stunned by his ability to make her feel so valuable with so few words.

Eva starts picking at the wooden surface of the table in front of her with her fingernail, her eyes downcast. “It’s a…it’s nothing really, just…there’s going to be a festival—in town, to celebrate it turning a hundred this year. They’re throwing a big celebration with fireworks and games and Noora and the girls invited me to go, but I was wondering whether you’d like to come along too—you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” she adds immediately.

Eva hates the way her heart starts pounding in her chest, as if everything is riding on Chris’s answer to the question—which it truthfully really does. She really wanted to go with him. She knows there are risks and she knows danger is still lurking outside, threatening not only Chris, but her own safety as well. But on the other hand, she wants to take him out; she wants to show him the beauty of her home outside these walls. She wants to show him all the foods they have to offer and the beauty of life outside of war, because she can tell that he hasn’t seen much of it in his life.

But most of all, she wants to be there to experience all of that with him.

“Okay,” he says suddenly and Eva isn’t paying attention that she almost misses hearing his answer. She looks up just in time to hear him say the words “I would love to go to the festival with you.”

And Eva’s smile is beaming.

The whole of the next day Eva spends in a haze, not like the haze she found herself in the day Chris first woke up after she’d carried him home; but the kind of nostalgic happiness that surrounded her like an aura. She couldn’t stop smiling at everything and anything; at the gardener watering the plants and the cooks preparing the meals for the Count and his family and the disgruntled housekeeper whose frown only deepened seeing Eva’s wide smile.

She ran into the Count only once the whole day, as he was walking out to go meet his business partners at the castle. She smiled wide and curtseyed as she was passing him and skipped off before he could even word out a greeting in return.

She’d brought along a change of clothes with her when she left that morning so she could get ready before going to the house to meet Chris and the could walk together to the festival. It was her favourite light yellow dress with golden embroidery and a sprinkling of small white flowers cross-stitched across the hem. The bodice was snug on her upper body, the collar wide showing off most of her neck and reaching halfway across her shoulders, but flared out from the mid waist area into a long skirt that reached the ground. The sleeves were long and fitted which widened slightly at the edge where it reached her knuckles. It was one of her most fancy dresses that she only brought out for special occasions; occasions that come few and far in between in her life which is why she found herself getting more excited that she really wanted to show outright. Instead of the messy knot she usually did her hair in, she braided her long hair in a neat plait that reached down to the small of her back.

She finished getting ready just after her working hours came to an end but left the clothes she came in that day in her basket in the servants quarters.

Her heart was beating up a storm in her chest when she says goodbye to the staff as she made her way out, eager to get back to her cottage to see Chris.

Stepping out into the fresh air, the gravel road crunching under her feet, Eva takes a moment to just breathe, keeping her eyes closed and trying not to smile too widely at nothing and make everyone think that she’d lost her mind.

She reached the junction at the end of the road leading away from the Count’s mansion and was about to turn right to head back to her cottage to meet Chris when a figure in the corner of her eye caught her attention. Turning her head to look in the direction, it takes Eva an additional few seconds to realize what she’s actually looking at.

It’s Chris.

He’s dressed in the fine, loose white tunic that Noora had brought over the other day that reached down to his hip and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, with an engraved leather belt knotted off just to the left side of his stomach over a pair of fitted leather pants. Only the boots belonged to him. He’s cleaned up and combed his dark hair back off his forehead and Eva wouldn’t have been ashamed to admit that he looked really, really good.

He’s standing with his arms crossed over his chest, leaning casually against a tree across the road looking at her. Eva doesn’t think she imagined the smirk that came to his face when he notices her expression.

“I thought I was supposed to meet you at home,” Eva asks as she walks over, Chris having pushed himself off the tree he was leaning against meeting her half way.

“I wouldn’t let you walk all the way back on my account,” he says, his eyes looking her up and down. “You look…beautiful, Eva,” he says so seriously and so earnestly, causing Eva to blush three different shades of red.

Eva laughs sheepishly at the compliment. “Thank you…you too, Chris—You look really good too.”

“Thank you,” he says, with much less embarrassment that Eva was displaying. “So, are you ready?”

Eva can only nod and both begin their walk towards the town. Even from the distance they could already hear the sound of music and merriment and the boisterous laughter ringing out. Eva notices that Chris is still limping slightly beside her but he’s trying not to show it too obviously; Eva doesn’t think anyone else would even notice but she’s become so in tuned to everything Chris that she would not have missed it. The bruising on his face had lessened, but it is still a nasty shade of mottled purple and yellow and the vertical and horizontal scars running across his cheekbone and his forehead are still very noticeable. But Eva walks into that town with Chris at her side with pride. She can feel the heat of people’s eyes on them from the moment they enter, but she pointedly keeps her eyes averted, looking at Chris instead. Chris on the other hand is making a very good show of not surveying his surroundings so obviously, but Eva can tell he was looking at everyone and everything that passes his eyes and analysing it critically.

Eva doesn’t know the person he was before he stumbled across her in the forest that night, but she can tell that she must have been quite a soldier, his body language shows it.

After being so long confined to the small cottage with her and her animals as his only companion, being in the presence of this many people in such an enclosed space was obviously getting to Chris. She could see the way his eyes were darting around vigilantly and the way his hand keeps reaching for an imaginary object at his side. Slowly, Eva reaches over and hesitantly wraps her hand around his wrist without startling him too much, but enough to attract his attention to her.

“Are you alright?” she asks. “We can leave if—”

“I’m alright, don’t worry. I want you to have fun tonight,” he says sincerely.

“But I don’t what you—”

“It’s not about me, it’s about you,” he says and Eva is completely mesmerized by the intensity in his eyes.

Her gaze is abruptly averted by the impact of another body barrelling into her, almost throwing her off balance. She feels the impact before she hears the voice yelling “Eva! You came!” almost into her ear.

“Yes, I came, Christina. Can you let go of me now?” she says with a laugh.

She hears the rest of the girl running up calling her name just as Christina relinquishes her grip, allowing Eva to finally turn around to face them.

“We didn’t think you were coming,” Vilde says when she approaches.

“I wasn’t going to…” she says, watching as Sana and Noora both approach, smiling. Seeing Noora reminded her of her escort standing to the side, out of the way and Eva quickly motions to him with an outstretched hand. “You girls remember Chris? My uhh—cousin.”

“Ladies,” Chris greets respectfully as he takes a step closer, giving a small bow with his hands clasped behind his back.

Vilde immediately starts giggling bashfully and Christina actually looks at him up and down with her mouth wide open. Even Sana takes a moment when she walks up to just appraise him appreciatively.

Eva can’t blame then. She herself wasn’t ashamed to admit that it took all of her will power not to stare at him so openly when she first saw him and during the entire walk over.

Only Noora keeps her wits about her, only chuckling softly when she steps up next to Eva. “You clean up really well, Chris,” she says and Eva notices the small smirk on Chris’s face after her comment.

“Thank you for the garments,” he says in response.

“Noora.”

The sound of the male voice calling Noora’s name makes Eva jump a little and she immediately looks towards Chris to see his reaction.

Chris looks unperturbed on the surface but Eva can see the way his frown deepens as the figure walks up into their small circle. Eva immediately puts herself between Chris and the newly arrived figure of William.

William comes from one of the richest families in town, the Magnussons. He was Noora’s childhood sweetheart, turned fiancé. Eva doesn’t know him all that well outside that fact, all her really knows is that Noora is completely infatuated with him and from the little interactions she’s had with him in the past, she could tell that he was too.

“Girls,” he greets when he steps up, circling an arm around Noora’s waist and pulling her close to his side.

The collective greeting in response rings out before Eva finds William’s focus on Chris standing behind her.

“William,” Noora says quickly, half turning to place her hand on his chest and motioning to Chris with her other, “This is Eva’s cousin, Chris. He recent returned from seafaring and has been staying with her for a while.”

Eva locks eyes with Noora nervously after she finishes when William doesn’t immediately avert his gaze. But after a moment, he nods and offers a hand out to Chris.

It takes Chris about the same amount of time after psyching up the other man in front of him to grasp the offered hand with a monotone, “Chris,” to which William replies with an equally monotonous, “William.”

Eva tries not exhale in relief outright when the tension that was brewing in the air immediately dissipates as William turns his attention back to Noora and paying Chris absolutely no mind after that.

“So what do you want to do?” Christina asks the group. “The tavern’s closed today so my evening is completely free. I am going to get so drunk tonight, I thought I’d just let you all know that in advance.”

“Umm, I promised to meet Magnus in front of his father’s stall actually,” Vilde says.

“I only have a few hours free before I have to go and relieve Elias of duty. We’re splitting shifts at the shop today,” Sana says.

“No one has to ask what Noora and William will be up to come midnight,” Christina adds with a wink at the two standing embracing on the side.

“What about you, Eva? What are you and Chris going to do?” Noora asks from her comfortable position in William’s protective arms.

Eva looks at Chris who just stares back before turning her eyes back to Noora. “I think I’m just going to show Chris around the festival; all the food and the lights. He’s been on the seas for a very long time; he hasn’t seen some of these things in a while.”

“Should we meet up somewhere after and watch the fireworks together?” Vilde asks.

“Yes,” Noora says, “We should do that.”

“I’m alright with that,” Christina says. “Sana? You said you had to go back to the shop?”

“It’s fine. Elias will live if I’m a little late. I’m sure he has the boys over anyway,” Sana says.

“Eva?” Noora asks, turning to look at her.

Eva exchanges a look with Chris, who doesn’t convey any sort of protest to the suggestion. “Alright, that sounds like a great idea.”

“Well okay then,” Christina says, rubbing her hands together gleefully. “The guys better watch out. I heard they’re having a drinking contest out by the barber’s shop.” She’s already half turning when she raises a hand up to wave farewell. “See you girls later.”

And with that they all separate, heading their ways; Noora walking hand in hand with William up the street, Vilde latching onto Sana as they head in the same direction but on the opposite side, making their way towards where the old baker had set up his small stall alongside all the other little wooden pop up shops on the side of the street in either direction of the road they were standing on.

Eventually it’s only Eva and Chris left standing among the increasing amount of people milling about the festival.

The sun had begun setting in the horizon and the little candles in the cured paper lanterns were slowly being lit all along the rows of stalls from where they were standing at the entrance of the town, all the way to the other end.

Eva looks at Chris surveying the surroundings with cautious interest. “A festival is a time when everyone is allowed to open up business to sell their little homemade trinkets and home baked cakes and their knitted mittens and socks; it’s a time to make a little extra business on the side as well as socializing and having fun,” Eva tells him. The moment she started speaking, she could see him turning his full attention on her and listened to her speak with interest.

Eva turns and beckons him to walk with her as they slowly make their way up the street, watching the town’s women dressed in their fanciest clothes with their done up hair with sparkly pins and their poshest barrettes and their best jewellery, conversing and laughing with each other. Eva notices the way people’s eyes would fall on her and Chris as they pass, but she doesn’t call attention to it or point it out. She just watches their eyes out of the corner of her own and she knows that Chris can sense it too but he doesn’t react.

They stop occasionally for Eva to point out something or to explain something about what that particular seller had on display. Chris hangs on to her every word and even though he hasn’t said anything since he introduced himself to William, Eva doesn’t feel like she’s engaged in a one sided conversation. Chris looks absolutely enthralled by everything in front of him. She’d catch his gaze on her from time to time, but would pretend not to notice it even though he wasn’t being discreet in his staring.

They reach a point about one-thirds of the way through the festival when a scent catches Eva’s attention and she turns excitedly towards him; unable to explain what had gotten her so excited, she latches onto his wrist and pulls him in the direction where the scent was originating from.

The old baker greets Eva with a wide grin when he notices her approach.

“Eva,” he greets happily. “I’m glad to see you here,” he says as she steps up in front of his stall, the wooden display on his stall filled to the brim with all kinds of still hot confectionary, from pies to cakes, to baked bread in all different shapes and sizes and little custard tarts topped with a variety of fresh berries.

“Good evening, Mister Fossbakken,” Eva replies. “How is your business fairing today?”

“Very well, my dear,” he says happily. “And who is this handsome gentleman you’re with tonight?” he asks, looking at Chris at Eva’s side, who’s staring at the assortment of pastries with a look that’s a mixture of surprise and wonderment.

“This is Chris,” Eva introduces, motioning to him with a hand. “He’s my father’s nephew came to visit.”

“Good evening sir,” he greets, like with the girls earlier, with a small respectful bow and his hands clasped behind his back.

“Very polite,” the old man says in an approving tone and a small nod, “You must teach Magnus some of those manners,” he adds before he turns back to Eva. “Well, what will you be having today, my dear?” he asks, motioning to the pastries spread out in front of him with both hands.

Eva exhales once while trying to pick. She looks at Chris to ask what he wanted, but he just shrugs nonchalantly and has her pick whatever she wanted instead. In the end she settles on a few of the fruit tarts and some of the small braided breads and muffins.

Eva reaches into her small coin pouch that she had hanging off her wrist to get money she’d saved up especially for the festival as the old baker wraps up her choices, but when she moves to hand him the payment, he puts his palm gently on her hand holding out the coins, a small smile on his face as he hands the paper wrapped pastries to Chris.

“Your money is of no value here, Eva,” he says seriously though the smile never leaves his face.

“But—”

“No buts, now run along you two, before I have to break out the broom to shoo your off.”

Eva frowns slightly at him before he motions with his hand, shooing her off.

“I will pay you yet, Mister Fossbakken,” she yells behind her as she’s walking away, but the man just pretends that he didn’t hear her.

“Does that happen often?” Chris asks her when they’re a good distance away.

Eva turns to look at him. “Hmm? Oh…not really, no. Mister Fossbakken is just…too kind,” she says.

“It’s not kindness that isn’t undeserving though,” he says seriously and once again Eva is left speechless.

“How do you do that?” she asks him after a while; they’re walking in step with each other watching parents and their children on the side engaging in some of the games that had been set up along the road.

“Do what?” he asks, confused.

“Say things like that—things that…things that leave me at a complete loss for words?”

“Does it?” he asks, genuinely curious. “I apologize if I made you feel uncomfortable.”

“No—no, it’s not that. You don’t make me feel uncomfortable,” she says quickly, looking him in the eye. After a beat, she continues, not breaking eye contact for even a second. “You don’t make me feel uncomfortable at all.”

Chris stares right back into her eyes and for once it doesn’t make her feel unnerved.

Until someone accidentally knocks into her and sends her stumbling into Chris’s arms. Chris’s narrowed eyes immediately looks around to find the offender as his hands hold Eva up against him by the shoulders. But before anything could happen, the man stutters out a nervous apology and bows a few times in pardon. Eva places a hand on Chris’s chest and looks up at him. “It’s okay, it was just an accident,” she tells him, but he doesn’t ease his grip immediately. He only lets go once the man’s friends have dragged him along and out of sight and he regards Eva intently.

“Are you hurt?” he asks.

Eva shakes her head with a smile. “No, I’m not hurt. Although I may have flattened our tarts,” she says with a sheepish grin.

Chris lets out an unexpected chuckle, before a small relieved smile curls at his lips. “We will survive,” he says.

And that joke, that first hint of humour is enough to put a big smile on Eva’s face. “Would you like to try one? While it’s still fresh,” she says, opening the paper wrapping and pulling out a slightly misshapen, though still intact fruit tart.

“Only if you will,” he says and Eva’s already wide smile only grows.

“Alright,” she says, handing him a small tart and taking out one for herself. She makes a show of taking a bite of hers first, and watches as Chris slowly lifts it up to his lips, smelling it strangely before he takes a bite of all the different components of it, the custard, the shell and a section of the fruits arranged on top. Eva watches the way his face just changes with each chew, from the moment the combination of flavours reach his taste buds; the way his brows furrow slightly as his eyes focus on an invisible point on the ground, his brain going through so many different thoughts at that moment and to Eva it was like watching his experience the taste of pie for the very first time.

It was a beautiful sight that she would never forget for as long as she lived.

“Do you like it?” she asks when he finishes, licking the bits of crumb left on his index finger and thumb.

“Yes,” he says earnestly.

Eva immediately holds out her own partially eaten tart to him. “Here, you can have mine.”

“That’s okay,” he says, “You have it.”

This time Eva stands her ground. “I want you to have it. I’m not that hungry anyway, so—please. Otherwise it will just go to waste,” she turns the most pitiful look she can muster at him.

He looks like he’s about to turn her down, but he sighs and takes the tart from her hand and finishes it for her; all while Eva just looks on happily at his delight.

They continue on their walk, Chris taking the wrapped up pasty from her hands and carrying it himself even though it really didn’t weigh anything at all. Eva just smiles at him and surprisingly, he reciprocates with a gorgeous smile of his own.

They pass by one of the games stalls that were the most packed section of the festival with a crowd of people hanging around, watching excitedly at whatever was taking place at the center. It piques Eva’s curiosity though Chris looks as disinterested as he usual does.

“What’s happening?” she asks one of the men standing in the rear looking over the heads of the people in front of him at whatever was happening a few feet away.

“Archery contest,” he says. “Two shillings to enter and you can win a stuffed bear. Besides one fellow who made the vicinity of the bullseyes once, no one’s won anything of worth,” he says with a boisterous laugh just as the crowd starts heading towards a cheer before immediately stopping and detouring into a disappointed groan. “Lots of people have won lots of grass though,” he says.

Eva gets up onto her tip toes to try and see over the sea of heads in front of her, but gives up after two tries. Instead she motions to Chris with a nod and both of them set off down the street where they were originally headed.

They pass by a small parting of the crowd where the last participant is making his disgraced exit when a voice in the center of the crowd starts calling out, “Sir! Sir!” Neither of them pay him any mind until he calls out, “You sir, with the beautiful lady in the yellow dress.”

This time Chris actually looks over to the source of the voice and Eva looks down to confirm the colour of her own dress. Chris, still holding the paper wrapped pastries in one hand has his arms crossed over his chest nonchalantly and his face devoid of expression but his eye focused intently on the man behind the barrier motioning for him to come closer.

“Win a prize for your gorgeous lady?” he says with a salesmen grin, holding up a fluffy white bear temptingly. “Only two shillings for five tries sir, one shilling for two,” he says. “Such a beautiful lady deserves a beautiful prize,” he adds to the cheers of people around, yelling out their support.

“No, thank you,” Chris says simply, with a shake of his head.

Eva turns to look at him. “If you want to try, I have spare shil—”

“I won’t take your money, Eva,” he says, and his voice is the most stern she’s ever heard it and it stuns her for a moment, though she doesn’t take it to heart. She just nods.

Chris doesn’t look back at the man as they turn to walk off, a disappointed groan passing through the crowd, until the man yells out again, this time with much more desperation.

“Sir! Sir! My lady, wait—How about this?” he says when Eva and Chris both stop and Chris reluctantly turns back to look at him with an annoyed sigh. “I will waive the fee, and give you two free tries? Same rules, same prize! The people here want entertainment tonight, and I will have them all entertained.”

The crowd cheers loudly.

Eva looks at Chris but he doesn’t look back, he’s staring intently at the man and at the bow on the counter in front of him and the bear in his hand and he looks like he’s actually considering it.

“Would you like the bear?” he asks, but he isn’t looking at her so it takes her a few seconds to realize that he was actually asking a question of her.

“Um, I don’t want you to do something you don’t want to do,” she says.

He finally turns to look at her. “I don’t not want to do it,” he says and it takes Eva a moment to decipher what he’d said.

With an encouraging smile, she says, “Yes, I would love to have the bear,” and that was about as much motivation as he needed. He immediately uncrosses his arms and hands the pastries to Eva and makes his way through the parting in the now loudly cheering crowd, some people reaching over to pat him on the shoulder encouragingly as he passed. Eva trails after him as he walks over to the grinning man holding the bear in one hand and the bow in the other hand, handing it to Chris without word as he moves to step aside.

“The arrows, sir,” he motions to the five arrows lined up neatly on the counter with a wave of his hand. “You get two free attempts, but if you wish to finish up your remaining arrows, you will need to pay the one shilling. Hit any part on the target you will win this—” he shows off one of the small yellow bears he was holding, “—But if you hit the bullseye, you will win your lady friend this beautiful white bear—” he holds a much larger snow white bear, “—made from the finest materials the kingdom has to offer. I have only three of them with me, so will you count yourself among one of the lucky ones tonight?” he asks, looking at Eva then back at Chris with a teasing look.

The crowd in the back is in hysterics by this point, whooping and cheering and looking on in absolute excitement.

Chris on the other hand could not look any more relaxed as he takes the bow in his hand and runs his palm across the clean surface, though marred by bumps and scratches from being used by people with no experience or respect for the weapon; his eyes focused and intense.

The five hay stuffed targets are arranged in an even row about a hundred yards away across the empty lost and fixed onto the side of the opposite building, lanterns set up all around illuminating the area completely like it was day instead of night. The wall and the ground surrounding was littered with wayward arrows, some embedded into the walls and the surrounding trees, even sticking haphazardly out of the grass.

Eva comes to stand a few feet beside him, giving him room to prepare. He doesn’t look at her but she knows that he senses her there.

The crowd is still cheering at this point though they’re focused intently on the lone figure standing right at the center; Eva thinks that even they could sense that this wasn’t going to be like all the other tries before.

Chris tears his gaze away from assessing bow to look at the arrows laid out before him; he picks one up and holds it in front of him, checking the tip of the arrowhead with a critical eye all the way down to the feathers at the end. Eva watches him closely; she’s never seen him look this concentrated before and she immediately notices the moment he snaps out of his thoughts because the look in his eyes change to something she’s never seen before.

She sees him shifting the bow into his right hand, taking a stance with his right shoulder facing the target, his left foot slightly behind, firmly planted into the ground.

The crowd stops cheering when Chris moves and everyone watches closely as his hand holding the arrow moves to place it back on the counter.

But he doesn’t place the arrow back down; instead he picks up two additional arrows and nocks all three at once.

The wave of murmurs wash over the crowd, some whispering excitedly and a few scoffs ringing out from people who were rolling their eyes at what he was doing.

But Chris pays them no mind, he adjusts the arrows on the bow, all three at the same time, holding them between his four fingers and adjusting the distance between them. His eyes moving from the arrows to the targets laid up ahead. He drops the bow sideways, leaning his upper body slightly to the right, resting the arrows on the side like a crossbow and levels his stance, adjusting the arrow one final time before he pulls back the bowstring with more ease than Eva has ever witnessed. His head tilted slightly to the side and his eyes unblinking.

The crowd is at an absolute standstill; you could have heard a pin drop because the silence was so thick, everyone leaning in close to have a better look.

Eva doesn’t look at the people or at the target or at the arrows; she looks right at Chris, unable to tear her eyes away even for a second and thinking that she’s never seen a more awe inspiring or beautiful sight before in her life.

At the very last moment, it was like time had slowed down to a crawl; the people around were moving like in slow-motion and the sounds muffled like it was coming from underwater; at the very last moment, Chris turns his eyes to look at Eva, not looking at the arrows or the target, not looking at anyone or anything else but meeting her gaze from across the short distance. In his eyes, in that moment, Eva has never felt more coveted in her life.

Then he releases the bowstring, not even blinking as the arrows shoot out of his bow, cutting through the air faster than the speed of sound and embedding in the exact center of the three middle targets before the thudding sound finally reaches the enraptured crowd.

For a moment, no one moves, no one breathes, no one even thinks of making a sound. It was as if everyone was stuck in that moment paused in time.

When time finally resumes, Eva couldn’t have begun to prepare herself for the explosion of noise. Not sound, just white static noise that comes at her like a tempest from all sides. Commotion started raging all around them, with people hollering and cheering and the sound of high pitched whistling above everything else. People were reaching over to pat Chris on the shoulder congratulatory and heaping praises on to him, even the owner of the archery range was left gobsmacked, but clapping his hand in bewilderment and awe.

But Chris’s focus is only on her, as if the only validation he needed was from her. So Eva smiles at him, wide and bright, clapping her hands excitedly and hoping she was expressing just how proud she was and how ecstatic she was feeling on the inside.

Chris reciprocates her smile.

Eva has seen his smile before, at least Eva has seen a glimpse of it; she’s seen a hint of what could have been a gorgeous smile, but always held back, always pulled back at the very last second. It never quite showed fully or reached his eyes and it was always noticeably controlled and noticeably practiced.

But this smile…this smile was heartfelt and genuine. It didn’t quite reach his eyes but it brightened up his whole face. It made his eyes sparkle and caused little wrinkles to crease up at the corner of his eyes and Eva doesn’t think she’s ever seen a more beautiful sight.

The crowd starts chanting then; “Do it again. Do it again. Do it again,” in unison, emphasizing every word to the beat of some silent music, pumping their fists in the air as punctuation to every word and looking expectantly at Chris. Excitable chattering and murmurings were washing across the crowd that had grown innumerably by this point. The only breathing space was the area around her and Chris; the crowd making a semi-circle barrier around him, giving him room to work.

Eva looks at the target then, seeing the three arrows right in the middle of the red bullseye in the three targets right in the middle. She realizes that Chris would have to hit the remaining two set up on either side of the wall with the last two arrows left before him.

Even the proprietor of the archery range had stepped further to the side, giving Chris more room.

Eva watches as he runs his hand over the body of the bow again before he reaches down to grab the two remaining arrow—the crowd’s cheering intensifies when he does—and he nocks both just as he’d done before, spreading the distance between the two farther than he had the three arrows before that.

He doesn’t take as long this time to set up his shot; his eyes find Eva almost immediately after he draws the bowstring the same way he did the previous time. But this time, he tears his eyes away from Eva just before he releases the string, but the split second before the tips of his fingers unfurl, Eva notices the slight furrow of his brows and the grimace that comes to his face; she hears rather than sees the small hitch in his breath in that instant but then there’s only the roaring of the crowd as the arrows shoot forwards, streaking through the air, cutting the wind and embedding with a thud into the back of the targets in the distance.

The crowd is dead silent for a moment as their eyes focus to see where the shots had landed.

The fourth arrow found the red center of the bullseye right in the middle of the target, but the fifth one ended up just barely missing it, embedding in the furthest most outer rim on the mark.

There were only a handful of disappointed groans Eva could hear before the crowd erupted into another round of excited cheers and loud applause and some of the sounds of disbelief coming from people grabbing at their hats in shock.

Chris finally lowers the bow with a noticeable exhale, his eyes staring out at the targets before him. Eva think she can see a hint of frustrated disappointment shining in his eyes but it’s quickly masked as the crowd reaches forwards to pat him on the shoulder, reaching their hands out to shake his as he slowly turns around to face Eva.

Eva steps forwards, the fingers of both hands intertwined in front of her lips, a wide grin pulling at the corner of her mouth. She looks up at Chris who tears his eyes away from the crowd though his hand is still held out for people to grasp on to in a congratulatory handshake. He isn’t smiling, but Eva thinks she’s beaming enough for the both of them.

The proprietor comes up to stand in front of them, his hands still vigorously clapping and his whole body language more excited for someone who has just lost four of his first place prizes.

Eva nudges Chris when the man comes up, and Chris turns to face him at her beckoning.

“Fantastic job, sir! Absolutely fantastic! I have never in my life seen as much skill as I have just witnessed with my own two eyes,” he says, the tone of his voice reaching a higher pitch than what he’d started with. “But alas, I must apologize; I only have three of these bears,” he says, putting the white bear he was holding on the counter in front of them and pulling out two more from somewhere underneath the makeshift counter before them.

Chris reaches for the one the man had been holding, picking it up with one hand and feeling the tufts of fur rubbing against his palm. The bear has the softest snow white fur, black button eyes and a bow tie made from soft red silk. After a moment, Chris turns to look at the man staring almost worriedly at him. “I only need the one,” he says, running a thumb across the midsection of the bear before he turns to the side and holds it out to Eva.

Eva looks at the bear and looks at Chris, feeling her heart skipping a beat and her breath catching inside her chest. Slowly she reaches out to take the offered bear with both hands, her eyes never leaving Chris’s intense gaze that stays locked on her and a smile wide on his face.

The cheering around had slowed down but the crowd was still muttering excitedly among themselves.

The man looks between Chris and Eva for a moment, a slightly surprised look on his face. “Fair as well as skilled,” he says to Eva. “You found yourself quite a man, my lady,” a teasing yet not insincere grin on his face.

Eva can’t tear her eyes away from Chris and she finds herself replying before the actual words can even register in her mind. “I did,” she says. Chris expression remains unchanged but there was something in the look in his eyes that shifted, but Eva couldn’t decipher what it meant.

“But you have shown us such amazing skill and entertained us so much tonight—” the crowd cheers at that, “—I cannot possibly let you leave with just one prize.” On cue, he pulls out four of the small yellow bears and places them on the counter and puts away the two white ones.

Chris finally looks away from Eva to stare at the sudden influx of yellow bears in his vicinity.

“What need would I have for so many dolls?” he asks incredulously.

The man shrugs indifferently. “Give them to your siblings or your lady’s friends,” he says.

Eva imagines bringing along all the dolls and having to explain to Noora and the girls how she obtained them all. She really wants to. She wants to tell them how excited she was and how proud she felt and how moved she felt on the inside. She wants to shout it from the rooftops or at anyone who would listen because she’s never experienced this kind of feeling before in her life. He wanted to tell at least Noora. She has to.

Eva looks back at Chris who’s still staring at the heap of dolls sitting in front of him strangely. Suddenly she notices his gaze shifting to the side, looking at the crowd still gathered behind them as if something had caught his attention. She follows his gaze and sees a little girl in a dark green dress and two little blonde pigtails on either side of her head standing with the side of her head resting against her mother thigh, one arm around her mother’s leg and sucking on the tip of her thumb on her other hand, staring at the array of dolls on the table with a sparkle in her eye.

Eva turns back to look at Chris, watching him look away and without a word picking up one of the bears and turning slightly to face the little girl, whose eyes follow the trajectory of the bear in Chris’s hand. He holds it out to her and Eva sees the way her eyes shift from looking at the bear, trailing up Chris’s arm to look at his face. She looks up at her mother who smiles down at her and beckons her to go forwards with a nod and an encouraging nudge.

Slowly the little girl lets go of her mother’s leg and takes short hesitant steps closer, her hands clasped nervously behind her back and her eyes looking at the ground sheepishly.

Chris bends down slightly to hold out the doll so that it’s in her line of sight. Slowly a small hand hesitantly reaches out to grab the offered doll; the moment her fingers make contact with the furry foot she grabs hold and runs back to burrow her face in her mother’s skirt.

Eva hears the mother chiding her daughter softly. “What do you say to the nice man?”

Eva can hear the muffled sound of a sheepish ‘thank you’ being said into the material of the woman’s skirt but the little girl doesn’t turn around.

“That’s okay,” Chris says to the woman, who smiles widely at him with a grateful, “Thank you.”

When he turns back to Eva, she knows that he can see the feeling of pride shining off her like a beacon. He just frowns slightly and what looks like the telltale signs of a blush starts creeping on his cheeks but she doesn’t comment on it.

Much of the crowd has dispersed by this point, still muttering excitedly about what they’d just witnessed. Only a few stragglers remain and a young boy with his father who’s staring at Chris with barely concealed awe. Eva sees the boy turning to his father and the sound of his voice excitedly chiming, “Father, may I try?”

He skips up the spot beside Chris, leaning his elbows on the counter and pointedly not looking in Chris and Eva’s direction but Eva can see the way his eyes keep glancing surreptitiously to where Chris is standing stoic looking at one of the yellow dolls he’s turning around in his hand. Eva can’t hold back a smile.

The boy’s big, burly, bearded father walks up immediately after and hands the proprietor the two shilling payment before the man reaches under the counter and brings out a considerably smaller bow.

Eva looks at the boy’s father as he steps up to Chris; Chris can obviously sense his presence but pays it no heed. The man’s clothes are fine and the jewellery he has around his neck, hanging down to brush across the top of his belly every time he moves is expensive and extravagant, but his face his kindly and his smile is noticeable from behind his big bushy beard.

“Young man,” he says, his voice a deep baritone. Chris finally turns to the man though at no point was he unaware of the man’s presence beside him. “Would you mind giving my son some pointers? I’m afraid this old man knows his way better around quill and a roll of parchment than a bow and arrow,” he says with a guttural laugh.

Eva looks over at Chris and catches the surprised look on his face before it’s wiped away as he nods slowly.

The gentlemen steps back to allow Chris room to approach his son who’s looking at absolutely everything else other than the person slowly approaching him.

Chris doesn’t pause for small talk which makes Eva smile, he immediately jumps into it by asking the boy which was his dominant hand, causing the boy to look confusedly at his own two hands.

“If you were mimicking shooting a bow, which would be the hand you’d use to pull the string?” Chris explains calmly, his tone professional and his explanation simple and not in a put down sort of way.

The boy pretends to draw an invisible bowstring, holding the empty air with his left hand and pulling his right hand back to his ear.

Chris nods, picking up the smaller bow and handing it to the boy, taking him by the shoulders gently and adjusting his position so his entire front is facing the right, away from the target before telling him to move his upper body slightly to the left, so that his head is slightly turned, facing his left shoulder; opposite of the stance Chris had been in not a few minutes ago.

“Plant your right foot behind you firmly,” he instructs. “People think you put your weight on your left foot to guide the arrow, but you put your weight on your right foot behind to control the direction you want to send your arrow in. The stability of your shot depends on how strong your stance is and if you’re shooting with your right hand, your right foot dictates all of that.” The boy is listening in rapt attention; hanging on to every word Chris is saying; looking at his foot behind him and digging his heel into the ground intentionally. “The second most important thing is to keep your forearm and your elbow as aligned with the arrow from the moment your draw the string to the moment you release it. That will ensure that the arrow cuts through the air in a straight line.”

Eva can’t tear her eyes away from Chris; out of the corner of her eyes, in place of the adults that had been occupying the space before, she notices a small crowd of kids and teenagers slowly gathering around. Peeking on their tip toes to get a better look over each other, all silent listening to what Chris was saying. Chris doesn’t act like he notices his new audience but Eva already knows he does, especially because she notices him speaking a little louder so that the children in the back could hear him as well.

“And thirdly, always keep your left arm slightly bent at the elbow,” he says, grabbing one of the new arrows the proprietor had set out, bringing it up to his face to assess one of them from tip to end. The tip of his index finger trails carefully over the sharpened arrowhead before he holds out the end for the boy to see. “All arrows have one part of the feather coloured or somehow always slightly different than the rest, and that is so that people can tell which is the right way to shoot it. If you shoot with the coloured feather facing inward, it will collide with the bow and the arrow will not fly in the direction you intend it to,” he explains.

Eva is struck by just how meticulous he is in his explanation and how simple he made it all sound. She could see his level of skill from his ability but seeing him explain it to the young boy and making it clear enough for all the other kids around to understand just the same, Eva could see just how passionate he really was about the whole thing. It was an amazing thing to behold, watching someone talking about something they obviously cared about a lot.

He hands the boy the arrow his was holding and gestures for him to make his first attempt.

The boy steels himself and grabs the arrow, nocking it the way he Chris had explained and no doubt the way he’d seen Chris do a moment before. He exhales as he brings his elbow up to his shoulder level, adjusting the arrow between his fingers and with one last look at Chris, who nods, he draws back the string.

Eva can see the effort he was putting into it because his whole body starts to shake slightly from the effort before he releases the string and everyone watches the arrow stumble through the air for a distance before it clatters to the grass.

Chris doesn’t look at the direction of the arrow or the target; he keeps his eyes on the boy the whole time, his arms crossed over his chest appraisingly. The boy sighs disappointedly and looks back to his father who just nods encouragingly at him. He turns to look at Chris after that.

“There are three key points shooting to shooting a bow and arrow successfully,” he says immediately, his expression unchanged. “Skill, strength and practice; these are three things that you don’t obtain overnight so don’t be discouraged if you don’t hit anything in your first few tries, or even in your first few hundred tries.”

“How long did it take you to get that good?” the boy asks interestedly, speaking for the first time.

Chris swallows as he regards the boy, licking his lips absentmindedly. “My whole life,” he says, causing the boy’s eyes to widen slightly. “But if it’s something that interests you, then it won’t be a goal you feel like you’re working towards, it will be something that gives you pleasure and pride,” he says, before picking up another arrow and handing it to the boy. “Again.”

This time, Eva notices the way his body doesn’t shake as much from the effort. His brows are furrowed in concentration and his eyes determined. When he releases the arrow, it flies through the air with much more power and precision, before clattering to the grass the same way but a few feet further than his first try.

“You closed your eyes the moment you release the arrow,” Chris says, walking around to stand on the boys’ right. “It’s a natural human reaction to having something passing so close to your face, but it’s a habit you need to break. You can’t shoot a target if you can’t see it.”

The boy nods.

“Again,” Chris says.

The boy obliges obediently.

With each shot, Eva can already see where he was improving; his father stands to the side looking proudly at his son being so focused on what he was doing. With each miss, Chris explain to him what he did wrong and with the next shot, his arrow would fly slightly further and straighter, getting closer and close to the target. The fifth arrow leaves the counter and five more takes its place as the boy’s father nods to the owner from the back.

On the eighth try, the arrow actually comes within two feet of the target but bounces off the broadside of the wall and clatters to the ground. The boy turns back, beaming at his father who is clapping his hand excitedly. The ninth try follows a similar trajectory but come the tenth try; on the tenth try Eva suddenly had a gut feeling that this wasn’t going to be like all the other tries, because the look on the boy’s face is even more focused and even more determined, his father is wringing his hands on the side and for the first time since they began, Chris eyes follow the arrow as it leaves the bow, whizzing through the air and embedding into the wall, slicing through the outer edges of the target in the middle; it was so close that even from a distance they could see the dust and little bits of hay flying around from the impact.

The boy beams, but not as widely as his father, who rushes forward and proudly embraces him in a firm hug.

“Father, did you see?” he yells excitedly, turning around to circle his arms around his father’s neck.

“I did son, and I am so very proud!” he says, embracing his son once again but his eyes move to look at Chris. “Thank you,” he says, and he sounds almost choked up when he says it.

Chris just nods but Eva can see the glint of pride in his own eyes.

The boy lets go of his father’s neck and suddenly rushes forwards and embraces Chris around the waist.

Chris is obviously completely taken aback by the act and Eva sees the moment his brain starts working again as he reaches down to pat the boy awkwardly on the shoulder.

“Good job,” he says. The moment the boy lets go he takes an involuntary step back.

The boy immediately turns to his father with an excitedly expression. “Father, may I go again?” he asks and the man just nods vigorously.

“But, we will let the kind mister and his lady friend go along their way to enjoy the rest of festival,” the man says. The boy groans disappointedly but doesn’t argue.

The gentleman approaches Chris who has moved back to Eva’s side; Eva had collected the remaining dolls, holding them by the little string behind their necks in each finger, the snow white bear held in a firm hug against her chest in her other hand.

“Young man,” he says as he steps up. “Forgive me; I do not know your name.”

Chris pauses for a moment before he says, “Chris.”

“Mister Chris,” the man amends. “And my lady? – he looks over at Eva who introduces herself before he turns back to face Chris— “Thank you for taking the time to teach my son, I know you did not have to and I know that you did not have to be so thorough. But I appreciate you spending your time to entertain the interest of a young boy. He barely listens to me on the best days and I have never seen him so obedient before, especially of a stranger, so thank you.”

Chris doesn’t look like he really knows how to react, but he says a simple, “You’re welcome,” with a small bow.

“Well, I will not take up any more of your time—I apologize, young lady, for infringing on your moment.”

Eva chuckles awkwardly a little. “It’s alright sir, it was time well spent for the both of them,” she says.

The man bids them both farewell, though Eva notices the way he grabs Chris by the arm for a moment and whispers something into his ear just as she turns to head back towards the middle of the street, watching the sparse crowd left milling around, as everyone else have all slowly made their way towards the top of the hill just on the outskirts of the town at end of the festival to watch the fireworks on the other field on the other side that were due at any time.

Eva turns when she hears footsteps and finds Chris walking up to her, the expression on his face thoughtful.

“What did he want?” she asks when he approaches.

“Hmm?” Chris hums questioningly.

“The man, I saw him saying something to you before we left.”

Chris doesn’t answer immediately. “Nothing, he just wanted to thank me again.”

Eva doesn’t think that’s the truth, but she doesn’t push, instead she beckons him towards the edge of town where the crowd of people gathering could already been seen even from that distance. Only a sparse amount of shops had been set up on the way out, a few selling drinks and confectionaries and others with little trinkets and ornaments on display.

It takes some effort to find her friends among the sea of people crowding around, looking for the best vantage point to see the fireworks about to shoot up into the nights sky, but eventually she hears the sound of Christina’s excited voice bellowing her name from higher up the hill, near a cluster of trees overlooking the bright lights of the town below.

Eva jogs the last couple of meters, her precious white bear still clutched close to her chest and the three little yellow bears bopping up as down as she ran, Chris trailing behind at a much more relaxed pace. She lost sight of him for a while in the rush of people making their way in the same direction but eventually catches sight of him again walking up to her. She thinks she saw him wince slightly as he walked but she couldn’t be certain because Vilde’s shocked gasp and her exclamation of— “Oh my god, Eva!” – immediately invades her senses as she gapes openly at all the bears in her hold.

Christina looks equally stunned when she notices what Vilde is looking at. “Did you buy them or something?” she asks in disbelief. Her eyes are glassy and she’s swaying slightly on her feet making it clear that she did keep her promise of getting drunk off her behind with the lads.

Eva’s smile is wide when she slows to the trot, slightly out of breath and her bangs dishevelled in front of her face. She takes the two small yellow bears and hands one each to Vilde and Christina. “No, Chris won them in the archery contest.”

“All of them?” Vilde says with a gasp, looking at the small bear in her hand.

Eva is about to answer, her mouth already opening when she hears Noora’s voice calling her name from somewhere in her periphery. Chris had also just joined them, walking up to the group silently as Noora, William, Sana and Magnus walk up from somewhere lower down the hill, each holding two paper cups of something.

Eva turns to look at Noora and notices a similar yellow bear hanging from one of her fingers as her hands hold two small cups of beverages.

Eva’s mouths an O when she recalls what the man at the archery stall had said. “William was the person who won the doll!” Eva states as Noora comes to stand at her side, holding out one of the cups to her and leaning over to hand the other one to Chris who accepts it hesitantly.

Noora looks closely at the white bear in her arms and her eyes widened in realization. “You two must have been the cause of the commotion we heard earlier,” she says, looking over at William who just stepped up and taking one of the cups he was offering to her. “Remember that William, the sound we could hear from about ten stalls over? That was Chris and Eva,” she says, motioning to the white bear in Eva’s arms. “Chris hit a bullseye,” she says impressed, “and you said that all the bows were rigged to prevent anyone from winning first prize,” she says in jest, jabbing William in the side with her elbow.

“That was just your ego talking,” Christina says with a laugh.

William looks absolutely insulted at the insinuation. But before he can say anything, Noora turns to Eva with a teasing grin and moves as if to whisper into her ear but her words are loud enough for everyone in the immediate vicinity to hear. “It took one word for William to cave, Eva. You should have been there. I barely had time to turn around before William was throwing money at the owner and shooting off arrows like the wall had personally offended him.”

“He challenged me, man to man!” William interrupts quickly, causing Noora to laugh. “Chris understands, right?” he says, looking to Chris for support.

Chris looks uncomfortable by the attention that was all of a sudden focused on him, so Eva steps in quickly.

“Actually Chris and I were walking away. The man begged him to try by giving him two free attempts,” Eva says with a shrug and a small half smile directed at William who looks back at her with such betrayal in his face.

“Two tries?” Noora asks with a tilt of her head. “You have four dolls? I know no one else won one because the six of us have been together since before we got here.”

Eva all of a sudden remembers the last yellow bear hanging from her finger and hands it to Sana with a smile. Sana looks confused for a moment but quickly returns her smile as she looks at the little bear in her hand interestedly. “Umm, it’s a long story,” she says, looking over at Chris, who just returns her gaze.

Noora looks between Eva and Chris without a word for a second, before turning to the sulking William with a brusque, “Keep Chris company for a while,” she says, then addresses Eva and the rest of the girls gathered around. “We need to have a girl talk,” she says. “Magnus, you stay with the boys.”

Magnus who looks completely lost in the whole situation just nods obediently.

Grabbing Eva by the hand, she motions for Sana, Christina and Vilde towards the small secluded spot behind the trees, away from the opening at the foot off the small hill where the fireworks were the most noticeable.

“And William,” she says finally, looking at her fiancée seriously, “Play nice.”

Eva just shrugs as she looks back to meet Chris’s confused eyes. She sees William slowly turning to face Chris, Magnus all of a sudden more preoccupied with the liquid in the cup in his hand, and the uncertainty in his voice when he says; “So…nice weather we’re having isn’t it…?”

Eva doesn’t find out whether or not Chris finds the weather agreeable because she loses sight of them behind the canopy of trees. Once they’re out of range of crowd gathered in the distance, only then does Noora stop and release the grip she has on Eva’s hand.

“I sense that something monumental happened besides Chris just hitting a bullseye,” Noora says.

“What happened?” Vilde asks, sharing an equally confused look with Christina and Sana.

Eva takes a deep breath and tries to keep her face from showing too much of the excitement and the adrenaline she was feeling on the inside.

“He didn’t just hit the bullseye,” Eva says, “He hit all four bullseyes.”

“Sorry?” Sana asks, adjusting her head as if it would somehow allow herself to hear better.

“You said the owner gave him two shots? How could he hit four bullseyes if he only had two shots?” Vilde asks.

“Actually he hit all five of the targets, only four were in the bullseye.”

All the girls shared a look with each other while seeming like they were doing a mental calculation of the logic of Eva’s explanation.

“Hang on,” Noora says, holding up a hand. “Why don’t you start from the beginning?”

Eva exhales but not out of negativity. She just didn’t know where to begin to explain.

“Umm, it’s uh—like I said, Chris wasn’t going to go ahead with it, because he said he wouldn’t take my money to pay the two shillings. But the owner gave him two attempts for free because he was desperate to keep the crowd excited I think.”

Noora nods. “Okay, we understand that part.”

Eva takes a deep breath and continues. “His first attempt, he shot three arrows at the same time,” she pauses to let the words sink in; waiting for the moment of realization or for the first person to say that she’s lying.

“You’re lying,” Christina says sceptically. “I mean…that—I mean that’s just not possible…right?”

“I would have thought the same thing as you,” Eva says, “If I didn’t see it with my own two eyes.”

“And then what happened?” Sana asks.

“All three arrows hit the bullseyes,” Eva says. “His second shot, she used the last two arrows. One hit the bullseye and the other just hit the target.”

“But you only have one first place prize?” Vilde says, looking at the white bear still clutched close to her chest.

“Because he said he only wanted one prize. The other prizes the owner insisted he take to give to friends,” she says, before adding, “He gave one to a little girl who was standing there.”

The group lapses into silence after Eva finishes.

“Wow,” is all Noora can say, looking completely taken aback.

“You believe me right?” Eva asks, all of a sudden feeling very self-conscious.

Noora looks at her immediately, all traces of surprise gone from her face. She smiles and pulls Eva into a hug. “Of course we do, Eva. It’s just…quite shocking.”

“What did you say your cousin did again?” Sana asks.

“Seafarer,” Eva says, though she’s disappointed in herself that she had to think about it for a beat longer than she would have liked.

“Must be some kind of ship he’s on to be that good with a bow and arrow,” Sana says and Eva’s not sure she likes the glint in Sana’s eyes when she looks at her. But then the girl smiles, her dimples peeking out displaying blatant faux innocence and the suspicious glint Eva saw in her eyes immediately disappears.

“So…is this for us?” Vilde says, holding up the yellow bear to Eva.

“Yes, of course. That’s why I gave it to you,” Eva says and the smile on Vilde’s face is positively beaming, especially for someone who makes dolls for a living. But Eva thinks that it has less to do with the gift and more to do with the thought behind it.

“It’s so cute!” Vilde coo’s hugging it to her chest.

“You make dolls for a living,” Sana says with a pointed look.

“Yes, but—but there’s a difference in the dolls you make yourself and the dolls that are given as a gift,” Vilde explains and for the first time Sana has no words to counter back.

“I’m not one for dolls,” Christina says, “But this one looks ferocious. He will look good hanging from my wall,” Christina says, slightly slurred. “I shall call him Casper.”

“Ask Noora what she calls hers,” Sana whispers to Eva.

Eva chuckles. “What do you call yours, Noora?” she asks.

Noora has a cheeky glint in her eyes when she says, “Wilhelm.”

They rejoin the boys soon after, walking out from behind the trees just as the gathered crowd starts getting to their feet, looking expectantly out at the still empty horizon.

They approach the boys just in time to hear William’s voice saying, “—then she insulted my parents and my upbringing and called me a walking cliché. That’s when I knew she was the one.”

Noora clears her throat when they approach. William turns around and smiles widely at the sight of her. Vilde walks over to curl up into Magnus’s side and lifts up the little yellow bear to show him. Sana and Christina both stand off to the side, with Christina hanging off of a scowling Sana and resting her head on her shoulder.

Eva approaches Chris and he doesn’t seem like he’s unfurled his arms crossed in front of him at any point during his time with William. He looks almost relieved when he notices her walking up and Eva smiles at his reaction.

“Did you have your girl talk?” he asks.

Eva wrinkles her nose at him at the comment and smiles. “Yes we did,” she says as she comes to stand beside him, both of them turning around to stare out at the wide open field spread out in front at the foot of the hill and the people rushing around in the darkness in the distance settling up the fireworks display.

“Are you happy with your gift?” he asks again and this time Eva turns to gaze up at him, looking at the silhouette outline of his face against the light of the half-moon hanging in the sky.

“It’s the most precious thing anyone has ever given me,” she says earnestly and Chris smiles.

The excited chattering starts up again as they look out at the field again, watching the people working in the darkness rushing off towards cover as the sparks from the fireworks’ fuse start burning shorter.

A hushed whisper that quickly descends into silence washes over the crowd as they watch intently, waiting for the sight of the fireworks to erupt into the night sky.

Eva feels the heat of someone’s eyes on her and turns to look at Chris’s gaze trained fixatedly on her.

“Is there something on my face?” she asks self-consciously, reaches up to touch her cheek.

“No,” Chris says. “Just…” he trails off, swallowing noticeably. “Just…tonight—”

Whatever Chris intended to say, Eva didn’t get to find out because there’s a series of high pitched screeching sounds before balls of light starts shooting into the skies, illuminating the grassy field and the forest canopy spread out around them. Everyone’s eyes follow the ascension of the small ball of light until it reaches the peak height in the sky and with an enormous boom that shakes the ground they’re standing on, explodes into a shower of multi-coloured lights.

Eva was looking at the firework explosion when the first boom erupted and she felt Chris involuntarily jump beside her. She didn’t think much of it when she turned to look at him, but the sight that meets her eyes is one she never would have expected. His eyes are wide, and he’s staring at the ground as if he was wishing it would suddenly open up and swallow him. One hand covering his ear almost unconsciously and his breathing was coming out hitched and uneven.

“Chris?” Eva’s smile immediately drops and she reaches up subconsciously to take his hand in hers. “Chris, are you okay?” she focuses her attention entirely on him, paying no heed to the display of lights illuminating the dark sky.

Chris doesn’t look at her but it looks like he’s about to answer when a second explosion makes him jump again. Eva gets close to him, one hand already clutching his hand holding the paper package at his side, and her other hand still holding the white doll, reaching to circle around his side as she pulls him close. Even from that closeness of their bodies Eva can already feel his heart pounding in his chest through her own. She looks around at the crowd completely enraptured by the display going on above them. Without word, she circles her arm fully around his side, tucking herself into his side and turning both of them around, half dragging him in the direction she and Noora had left for earlier. Chris obliges without putting up any sort of resistance.

Eva notices Noora glancing at them as they’re walking away but she doesn’t have time to explain. At that moment, the priority was just Chris.

They walk further into the trees, away from the crowd until it’s only the two of them and they’re far enough into the forest behind them that the sound of the third boom is muffled slightly, but it still manages to startle Chris.

Eva keeps her eyes on Chris the whole time; he doesn’t meet her gaze and his face his ashen and she can see the beads of sweat sticking to his forehead. Eventually they step into the clearing, away from the sounds of the crowd cheering every time the colours in the sky opened up like a blazing flower.

She stops near a large tree in the opening, and half pushes Chris onto the ground into a sitting position, leaning his back against the trunk as she settles close beside him and takes his hand in hers, the other reaching across his back.

“It’s okay,” she says, rubbing soothing circular motions on his back, her hand gripping his doing the same with her thumb against the back of his hand.

He doesn’t make eye contact with her even once, his eyes gazing blankly at a spot only he could see; she could still feel his heart pounding inside his chest and his breathing was still uneven.

She doesn’t know how long they sit there; she’s whispering comforting words into his ear, resting her cheek against his shoulder, while the sound of fireworks could still be heard in the distance. Eventually she feels his heartbeat slowing down and he starts shifting in his seat beside her. Only then does she turn out to look at him, finally finding his eyes on her; though they’re glassy and slightly damp.

“How are you feeling?” she asks without stopping her hand from massaging up and down the length of his back.

He just sits there silently, catching his breath, his eyes unblinking where they’re trained on her. He looks away to stare at the ground, the look on his face unreadable though the closest thing Eva can think to describe it would be shame.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers without meeting her eyes.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” she tells him, urging him to meet her gaze as she lowers her head down to look into his downcast eyes. “Okay? Absolutely nothing.”

Chris doesn’t answer or even look up to meet her eyes. So instead she reaches down to grasp his chin with her thumb and index finger lifting his head to look at her.

His eyes are wet; it’s the first thing she notices and her heart almost breaks.

“Everyone has something that’s too much for them to deal with sometimes and there’s nothing wrong with that,” she says. “Maybe it’s the loud noises, maybe it’s the explosion of light or just the crowd of people around. There’s nothing wrong with that,” she explains, placing emphasis on the last few words and keeping Chris’s gaze as she wills him to believe her.

He doesn’t say anything, so instead she reaches across his shoulder with one hand and pulls him into a hug, holding him tight against her chest in a firm embrace. Pleased, she feels his arms reaching around her torso and latching on, burrowing his face in the crook of her neck.

“It’s okay,” she whispers to him over and over again while continuing to massage his back gently with the palm of her hand.

The fireworks display have ended by this point and in the distance she can hear the sound of the crowd slowly dispersing, but she doesn’t move; she just continues sitting there whispering into his ear and rubbing circles into his back.

All of a sudden the snapping sound of a dry twig catches her attention. It must have been telling about Chris’s situation that he didn’t seem to notice the intrusion at all.

Eva looks up to see Noora walking cautiously into the clearing, her mouth frowning and her eyes concerned.

Eva lifts a hand up to halt her, shaking her head slightly to tell her that it’s okay and to not come closer.

Noora stops immediately and the look in her eyes when she looks at Chris is one of sympathy. She looks at Eva and motions towards where the group is undoubtedly waiting with a small nudge of her chin. Eva just shakes her head a little, mouthing ‘it’s okay’ and hoping that Noora understands what she mean.

Noora looks hesitant for a moment before he reluctantly nods, pointing to herself then to Eva and mouthing ‘I’ll come tomorrow.”

Eva just nods. There was nothing she could really say to that.

Noora leaves with one last concerned glimpse back and Eva turns her attention back to Chris still curled up against her. His heart is no longer pounding in his chest and his breathing is even, which she takes as a good sign at least, but Chris doesn’t move so she stays still, holding him comfortingly in her arms.

Eventually Chris shifts and eases out of the embrace, and Eva finds the loss of the body heat jarring but she doesn’t fully let go, holding onto his shoulders as he leans to rest his back and his head against the tree, his eyes closed in deep concentration.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Eva asks, moving in a little closer and placing a hand on his knee. Chris shakes his head in a negative and his squeezes his eyes shut. “Okay,” Eva says. “You don’t have to.”

She just sits there in silence watching him trying to get his breathing under control.

“It’s the explosions,” he says suddenly, but Eva was already looking straight at him so his voice comes as less of a shock. “It sounds just like…just like, bombs and cannon fire; the sound and the heat and the vibrations in the earth when it goes off. It was—it was too familiar,” he says. Finally he opens his eyes but he isn’t looking at Eva, he’s looking at a spot in the sky above them, as if dredging up memories of a past he’d sooner forget. “I’ve seen too many people die that way and it’s a horrible way to go,” he says. He lapses into silence after that and Eva doesn’t even know what to say to that.

“But you’re not in a war, not here, not with me,” she says. “Here…you’re safe.”

Chris doesn’t answer but from the look in his eye Eva can tell that he doesn’t even really understand the meaning of that word. She wonders if even she truly does.

“I’m sorry about making you miss the fireworks,” he says and Eva holds a hand up before he can even think of continuing.

“It wasn’t about the fireworks,” she explains. “It wasn’t about the festival or the food or the people; it was about enjoying it with you and I did that immensely tonight.” Chris doesn’t say anything so Eva adds. “What just happened, it doesn’t take away from that at all.”

She doesn’t move, she doesn’t nudge him or say anything else. She allows him to gather his thoughts and work whatever negative emotion he was feeling out of his system.

“Do you want to go home?” she asks after watching him for a few moments to make sure that he’s really calmed down.

Finally Chris opens his eyes to look at her and with an almost imperceptible nod, he lets out a soft, “Yes.”

Eva gets to her feet and waits patiently as Chris pushes himself up, wincing slightly when he straightens up, causing Eva to remember that he’d be favouring his injured left side all night, but especially after the archery contest that evening. “Are you alright?”

Chris just nods and Eva decides not to push the issue until they get home. Without word, she sidles up beside him, sliding her arm around his waist and allowing him to rest his arm across her shoulders.

And so they begin their slow trek home.

The town is almost deserted when they enter, only a few remaining people walking past and the business owners slowly cleaning up shop. Eva decides not to make a show of them walking through the town even if there aren’t that many people left. Instead she turns into one of the alleyways that lead into the dense forest behind the town. It would take them a little longer to make their way home, but at least there wouldn’t be anyone around to make a spectacle of them. It was a route that only Eva really knew, because she used to take it to get back home on the days when she didn’t want to run into people.

Chris doesn’t say anything for the whole walk home and Eva allows him that peace; just having him by her side gives her the companionship she so desires even when no words are exchanged between them.

Eventually they step out of the underbrush onto the familiar gravel road and continue on towards where Eva’s small cottage is waiting for them at the end of the path.

Fy could probably sense that something wasn’t right before they even stepped through the door because the moment they enter, Eva can already see the brown dog standing at the ready, her ear levelled and her tail tucked. She follows closely when Eva leads Chris over to the bed after locking the door and sits him down on the edge, taking seat beside him without even one removing the grip she had around him. Fy comes to Chris’s right side and very gently places a paw on his knee, whining softly.

Eva smiles and reaches over to pat her on the head because Chris was still rather out of it and didn’t seem to notice the pooch’s worry. “It’s okay, Fy, Chris is just a little upset right now,” she says. “You’re such a good girl.”

Hearing Eva’s voice talking to the dog gently seems to snap Chris out of the haze he found himself stuck in. He finally blinks and looks at the dog staring back up at him. He reaches over slowly to scratch her below the neck causing her leg to start shaking uncontrollably.

“How are you feeling?” Eva asks, rubbing her open palm up and down Chris’s back, calling his attention to her.

He turns, though his eyes are still tired looking and his spirit seems dampened, he spares her a small smile. “Better,” he says.

“That’s good,” Eva says, finally letting go of his waist. She lowers herself down to a crouch in front of him and reaches to undo his boots.

Chris grabs her hand as she’s unbuckling the first clasp and pulls her hand up to his lap. “Eva, you don’t have to do that.”

Eva just smiles at him and pats his hand with her other. “I know. I don’t have to, but I want to. Just relax, okay. Let me take care of this—let me take care of you.”

Chris still looks hesitant but he doesn’t argue when Eva slides her hand out of his grasp and finishes unbuckling his boot and pulls it off. Doing the same with the other one before she stands up, motioning to him to take off his belt as she pulls back the covers of the bed and fluffs up the pillow. She pushes him back down slowly into a lying down position and makes sure both his legs are on the bed before she tucks the blanket around him snugly.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” she asks with a smile playing at her lips.

As she straightens up and rolls up the sleeves of her dress. She’s mid roll when Chris reached up and firmly grasps her by the wrist, not in an aggressive manner but she looks up to him staring at her.

“Please stay,” he says, almost in a whisper.

Eva looks at him just as intently before kicking off her own shoes and taking seat on the edge of the mattress, as Chris moves back to make room for her, until his back is against the wall behind him, slowly lowering herself into a reclining position mirroring Chris. Chris on his left side, his head cushioned on one end of the pillow and Eva on her right occupying the other end, her hand tucked under her cheek, facing each other from the barely one foot of distance between them.

Eva looks straight into his eyes; looking at the way the greenish outer ring of his eyes almost bleeds into the light brown center. Neither of them break eye contact nor move an inch in a long while, until Eva can see the way Chris’s eyes are slowly drooping and he keeps forcing them back open.

It isn’t until she reaches over, cupping his cheek with the palm of her hand, whispering a soft, “Sleep,” does he finally succumb to the darkness.

Eva watches him for a while after his breathing has evened out and he’s fallen asleep, feeling her own eyelid starting to close. She forces them open one last time to look at Chris, to memorize every detail of his face to memory, only then does she allow sleep to consume her.

Tbc.