Paper Hearts

THEN: Chapter 2

"He must not be a fool of no sort, nor peevish, nor ill-natured, nor proud, nor covetous;and to all this must be added, that he must love me and I him as much as we are capable of loving" - Dorothy Osborne.

Eden:

The end of June arrived with heavy rain, black skies and a sweltering heat that certainly did not tally up with the sunshine and mildness we Londoners had been promised. The first day of my Summer saw me racing down the High Street in my flip-flops, heading towards my house from a night staying at Emma's. Rain prickled my skin in icy darts, though the heat was suffocating. I made a vow never to listen to the Weathermen ever again.

By the time I reached my favourite coffee shop, my feet were slipping erractically across the pavement, my hair was dripping and beginning to frizz and my clothes were completely soaked through. With a surge of relief I darted inside, determined not to leave until the weather had eased. I had to push through a group of people who had obviously had the same brainwave as me, but managed to find a lone seat to dump my overnight bag on while I joined the queue.

When I got back to my seat, the leather was slick from the water my bag had absorbed. All the clothes inside it were probably wet aswell - I didn't even have anything to change into. 

Sitting down, I tried to surreptitiously wring out my hair  - it didn't take me long to decide this was a hopeless case. As I was attempting it, however, I became aware of someone watching me from across the table. 

I peeked up from under my hair, but the young man opposite me was seemingly absorbed in a book. He was gorgeous, though - tall and dark with chocolate-coloured eyes. Straining in my seat, I quickly pushed my hair back as I tried to see the cover of the book he was reading.

"Tolstoy!"

I didn't actually realise I'd spoken out loud until he looked at me, confusion making his forehead furrow. I froze, blushing and crippled with embarrassment. He was staring now, looking unsurprisingly unnerved. 

"Yes...?" he agreed warily, "Yes, it's Tolstoy"

"It's a wonderful book" I said at last, trying to regain some dignity, "Much better than War and Peace"

His jaw sagged slightly.

"You...you've read War and Peace?"

I nodded, relieved that that seemed to have distracted him, "Yes. I enjoyed that one so much I thought I'd try it. But Anna Karenina is much more interesting, and relatable. She's a fascinating character"

By this point, he looked mildly impressed. He lay the book down and eyed me with renewed interest.

"I'm only halfway through, and I'm finding her a bit irritating. If she feels so guilty about her husband, why doesn't she just end it with Vronsky? She doesn't actually love him, she desires him - or that's how it seems to me"

"She does love Vronsky" I replied earnestly, forgetting myself, "It only seems like desire because he's the forbidden fruit - he's new and sexy and she's just plain old married Anna Karenina"

He was smiling now; he held out his hand, "I'm Oliver. Ollie"

"Eden" I responded, taking the proffered hand and feeling a little twinge in the pit of my stomach as I did so, "And if you sing that stupid song to me I will throw this coffee in your face"

Ollie laughed, "I won't, I promise. I hate that song" he leaned further across the table, "So you really think she loves Vronsky?"

"Yes. Desire is part of it, of course, it always is, but she truly cares about him. She breaks the bond with her son to be with him, defies the whole of Russian society. She's an amazingly brave woman, really" I stopped abruptly, blushing, wondering if I was boring him - most of the people I knew didn't much enjoy discussing books. But he didn't look at all bored.