the vows; theodore 'laurie' laurence

ೃ⁀➷ i. what is normal?

she was always stuck in the middle of being ordinary and extra-ordinary. when the late-duke of hastings were still alive, he always rubbed that in her face. katherine was well enough to boast to his friends but not enough for him to let her out into the world.

the spite she had for her father was immeasurable, by neither words nor numbers. so the vow she and her brother made at his death bed was the only comfort she had during these past few months.

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i despise you. because with every chance you have to be good, happy and useful, you are lazy, faulty and miserable. you're selfish. with your money, talent, beauty— with all these good things to enjoy, you can find nothing to do but dawdle.

laurie couldn't believe that little amy march had said those words to him. though he slurred his words and walked out, the things she said sobered him up real quick. was this the truth? was this how his life has become?

perhaps he has always known. perhaps it was months ago that he realized the path he was going down was a bad one, yet he did nothing to change. what would be the point? amy was right about one thing. he had money, talent and beauty. and he couldn't give a rat's ass about that.

"oh, i'm sorry," laurie said as he stumbled upon the garden, tucking the bottle of champagne behind him. he honestly did not expect anyone to be outside so he had thought he could get drunk alone here.

"there is no need to hide the alcohol. i already saw," the person—woman— said without looking up from their canvas. she was painting the pond in front of them. at night. with no lanterns or any source of light beside her.

laurie felt himself relax and approach her. he couldn't quite see what she was painting, so he couldn't give her compliments. "may i sit with you?"

she laughed. "it is improper for a man and a woman to be alone, especially at night, much less sit beside one another with no chaperone," she said and laurie nodded his head before turning on his heel to leave, "that was my way of saying you may sit beside me."

he found himself laughing as well as he took a seat next to her on the bench she probably placed on there. laurie wondered where she got the bench from and how she moved it by herself. but considering the way she allowed him to sit next to her, she was strange enough as it is.  "you're painting."

"you have good eye sight."

"in the dark?"

"excellent eye sight, i see."

"why are you painting in the dark?"

"now that is a sensible question," she asked, with much intrigue in her voice, as though she were questioning herself on the matter as well. but she didn't say anything further and it was a silent few minutes when she spoke, "why shouldn't i paint in the dark, mr laurence?"

possibly laurie was far too drunk to comprehend the fact that this strange woman knew who he was or perhaps he was too curious about her painting in the dark. "isn't it...normal to paint with lights? so you can see better?"

"i can see just well, thank you," she said, once again very vaguely. "are you drunk, mr laurence?"

"nope, very sober." because of amy.

"do you know who i am?"

"should i?"

"excellent," she said and one of laurie's eyebrows raised. he didn't have time to question because she started talking, "i see colors differently from other people. my color perception is...better at night. but then again, what is normal? my normal is seeing colors more vibrately at night and your normal is seeing it better at morning. both are okay, don't you think?"