First Love, First War, First Step |√|

Secret Notes

My father shoved back his chair, planted a light kiss on the top of my head, and smiled fondly at me.  "I know, Ilania, and I trust that you are planning on being nothing more than friends with him."

Mulling over his actions, something I hadn't seen since my mother died, I managed a smile that I hoped looked genuine.  "Of course, Father.  After all, the only reasons I know Luke is because his uncle is my mentor, and his sister went to school with me."

After warning me once more that he was too old for me, my father vanished out the door.  I remained at the table, staring at the spot where he had been in shock.

Had he somehow figured out what Luke and I had been up to?  Did he realize that I had fallen in love with a man I'd only met once but had sent hundreds of notes to?  Was his sudden affection towards me because of something else?

"Uncle Luther," Luke said from the doorway of the room where I was copying a falling apart manuscript, my fingers cramping, "are Ilania and you about done?  I was going to take her home."

I looked up with a slight tilt of my head and found him leaning casually against the door frame, arms crossed across his chest.  With his dark hair mussed and eyes slightly closed, he looked even better than I remembered.

Luther seemed to realize something was going on and got out of his chair.  "Ilania, do you mind finishing that page while I talk to my nephew?"

Without waiting for an answer, he clamped a hand onto Luke's shoulder and steered him out of the door, closing it slightly.

I bent back over the page, smiling when I realized that I only had a sentence left before I could say I had finished the page.  Carefully, I inked the finals words onto my sheet of paper before setting it aside to dry and sneaking to the wall.

"...know what your intentions are, but you both know that there's no you in the future," Luther scolded.  "She's far too young for you.  If they find out about any greater relationship than friendship between the two of you, you'll both suffer."

"I know well what they do to people who are suspected of breaking that Law," the younger man answered.  "I can assure you that there's nothing more than friendship between us.  I find Ilania to be a very interesting young woman, but I am not planning on marrying her.  This is only the second time we've seen each other in person."

I bit my lip at the thought of the horrific deaths that those who broke that particular Founding Law suffered.  The rumor, which I had never tried to find out if it was true, was that there was no blood left in the person's body after Enforcement was done with them.

"Be careful, Luke.  I already know that you could get into trouble if anyone got an inkling what you and your 'friends' are up to.  Don't you dare drag her into this too.  She's got enough problems as it is."

Seeing their silhouettes moving back towards the room, I returned to my place, making a show of putting my writing supplies away.

Luther's brow was furrowed with an emotion that I couldn't quite identify when he came over to look at my work.  Luke, by comparison, winked at me while his uncle was bent over the paper.

"It looks wonderful as always, Ilania.  I'll see you tomorrow like normal," my mentor said firmly as he straightened.

I nodded and grabbed my bag off the back of the chair, slinging it across my back.  "See you tomorrow, Luther.  Don't fret too much."

Luke shoved his hands in the pockets of his trousers as we walked out the soaring entrance of the Archives.  "I didn't realize my uncle was so protective of you."

"My father hasn't really been around since my mother died," I explained, fiddling with the strap on my bag.  "I think he feels like it's his responsibility to step in as my father figure when possible."

"I don't blame him though.  Someone like you is sure to need someone to make sure that the boys don't overwhelm you," he replied with a slight grin that made his dimple pop into view.

I shrugged.  "They never seemed to have much interest.  In fact, I don't think most of them have looked twice at me."

He halted and looked at me in disbelief.  "Surely you're just kidding!"

Shaking my head, I stared back at him silently, wondering what had prompted such an intense reaction.

Luke ran a hand through his curls.  "How could someone not notice you?  You're one of a kind, Ilania.  You should be turning heads everywhere you go."

"I'm nothing special," I said, starting to walk again, this time backwards, so he could hear my words.  "I'm sure there's been hundreds of girls just like me with the same boring light chestnut hair that falls to their waist, same ordinary gray eyes, and same walk."

"That's exactly what frustrates me about you women," he managed, taking long strides to catch up to me.  "You think that there's nothing different about any of you."

"There is something different about me, and it's not something that attracts others.  I have a father that has decided that I'm not worth the time or effort to remember how old I am or inquire about what I'm doing most days.  I'm sure that he still thinks that I'm thirteen."

He caught my arm and turned a corner before pressing me against a wall.  "Ilania, I assure you that it's not the thing I'm referring to when I say you're different."

"Then what are you implying?  That I'm so ugly and boring that people stop to look at me just to make themselves feel better?" I challenged.

"No, that's not it at all," he almost growled in frustration.  "You're witty, you're kind, you're passionate.  You don't seem to see the way that your hair shimmers and tempts someone to touch it just to see if it's as soft as it appears.

"Your eyes are windows to your every thought, and it would be like getting lost in a misty sky.  You have proven that you're so much more than other girls, those who walk around acting as if everything is all right when it's so clear that it's not.

"You're—you're," Luke seemed to be at a loss for words, and I watched as his chest heaved with a deep breath.  "I need to get you home before I find out that Luther is following us.  He'll flay me alive if he thinks that I pulled you into this alley to break a law with you."

The rest of our walk was silent, and I looked at the brooding figure at my side, his face tight with a confusion of emotions.  The words he had said so fiercely in the alley made me realize that perhaps I wasn't the only one who had begun to feel something after all those notes.

We reached my front door, and I turned to stare Luke straight in his cyan eyes.  "Thank you for bringing me home and for the birthday present and for those beautiful words.  I really appreciate it all."

With a silent sigh, I reached for the doorknob.

"Lane, I mean, Ilania, it was a pleasure.  May I have the honor of escorting you home more often?" Luke said quietly as my grip tightened in shock around the cold metal.

I felt a smile creep over my face.  "I would enjoy that, Luke."

Opening the door, I watched as he pivoted on his heel to walk away.

"And, Luke," I called.

He paused and looked back at me.

"I like it when you call me Lane.  I've never had a nickname before."

His own face broke out in a smile, and I felt my heart skip another beat.  "I'll keep that in mind.  Good evening, Lane."

"Good evening," I replied before closing the door.

Was it wrong of me to hurry to the window, so I could watch him casually walk down the street?  Was it wrong to admit that the walk had just endeared him even more to me?

I had it bad, and even the thought of what could happen if we decided on a deeper relationship couldn't stop my heart from singing.