What's Wrong With Forbidden?

Chapter 7

I decided not to change for Eleanor. I mean, I'm not saying I've been dressing up for her...or at least, not to impress her. Mostly just because it's what has been expected of me for as long as I remember. But since I can't think of a good reason why things should be that way, all I'm wearing is an old tank top and some cargoes. I didn't even do my hair, letting it fall naturally down my neck and over my eyes instead of combing it back. It's just another useless restriction.

But I think the biggest difference of all is my eyes. I didn't feel like contacts today. In fact, I've always hated them, but my mother told me it took away from my looks, which made me feel pretty...insignificant, now that I think about it. So that's great. Instead a pair of gold-rimmed glasses rest on my nose. They're a little sparkly for my taste, but I'm pretty sure my parents hid my plain, black rimmed pair years ago. So it works.

Briefly, I wonder what Harry would think about the change with a soft smile, but I quickly push the thought away. Today's all about me and Eleanor. Something about how she acted yesterday...I just know we need to talk. Not like we normally do, joking and teasing each other. A heart to heart, of sorts, something we haven't done since I left school.

Basically, it's going to suck. But there's something I have to know.

Mary appears silently in my doorway, and I grin when I imagine how the old me would have jumped out of his skin. I guess I got something out of Harry's sudden appearances.a

"Ms. Eleanor has arrived," she reports, bowing her head slightly to keep from meeting my eyes. "She's by the fountain."

"Thanks, Mare," I say. She smiles cautiously.

"You're welcome, master. I hope you enjoy yourself."

I pause at her words, one hand in the banister. I look back.

"Please, call me Louis. We've known each other too long for this whole 'master' thing."

She looks startled, but her surprise slowing melts into a grin.

"Of course, ma-Louis," she corrects. I smile back at her.

But by the time I make it to the garden, the memory of that smile is long gone. My stomach churns itself into knots, as if that's supposed to make this any easier. It tightens even further when I catch sight of Eleanor, who must have had very different thoughts about this meeting than I did because she's dressed in a beautiful yellow dress, cut high in the front and longer in the back to let in the breeze, revealing cool, creamy legs dotted with the occasional freckle. The collar juts down far enough to make me blush, and when I get closer, I see that tiny little bees buzz across the fabric. I can't help but think that it's an innocent theme for a dress that so obviously meant to attract attention.

"Hi, Lou," she says, sounding almost shy. She drops her chin and looks up from me through huge eyes surrounded by thick, dark lashes. For the first time, I notice how delicate her features are: Her nose is a button, her mouth a small red bow. Yet when I look at her, all I can think is she's the wrong one.

I swallow, careful to keep distance between us as I sit down beside her. I see her eyes flash curiously as she takes in my glasses, but she doesn't say anything, just smiles hesitantly.

"Hey."

"Look, about yesterday," she starts, and I tense up. She doesn't seem to notice, her gaze distracted by a butterfly hovering over our roses. The same roses, by chance, that ripped at my fingers the first time I followed Harry into the woods.

Poetic.

"I didn't mean to be so...harsh," she says, choosing her words carefully. "I guess I was just a bit jealous. Which isn't fair. Henry-"