Enoch has always been like this. Grumpy, sarcastic and reluctant to talk to the other peculiars in Miss Peregrine's loop. But when a new girl with a rather strange peculiarity shows up, will he manage to keep up this stony façade?
Enoch and I walked, hand in hand, back to the house, the sides of our bodies bumping together occasionally. I looked down at my hand, and tried to get used to the beautiful ring on my finger. It felt so strange... But, at the same time, good, and relieving.
We pushed the door open, hoping to escape to the basement unnoticed so we could just... be alone, but we were immediately ambushed by Horace, his brow furrowed. He took one look at Enoch's happy expression and let out a relieved sigh, patting my boyfriend on the shoulder exaggeratedly. Wait, should I call him my... Fiancé now? God, this is weird.
The three of us stood in an awkward silence for a while, before Horace cleared his throat. "(Y/N)... I've got something for you, up in mine and Enoch's room." I frowned. "What is it...? You didn't have to get me anything, you know." I turned to look at Enoch, hoping he would tell me something about the surprise gift, but he frowned and shrugged. "I can't tell you... That would completely defeat the point of it. But I can show you now." He led Enoch and I up the stairs, and into their room. In it was a figure, I believed it to be his clothes-making mannequin, covered by a faded sheet. And then I realised that whatever was under there was for me. "Oh, Horace," I breathed, engulfing him in a hug as he made to pull the sheet off. He stood stiffly and uncomfortably, but, after a while, he wrapped his arms awkwardly around me too. After a few minutes, Enoch cleared his throat and Horace extracted himself from my grip, grabbing a corner of the cover and tugging it gently. Before it was all off, however, he paused. "(Y/N), close your eyes." "Um, okay?" I did, and listened to the 'swoosh' of the sheet falling on the floor.
I heard a gasp from Enoch standing behind me, and Horace sighed happily. "Okay. You can open your eyes."
And there it was in front of me, a dress, slipped almost humbly over the cloth mannequin. I inhaled sharply, trying to take in as much of it in one state as possible, but I had to blink a few times. Admittedly, it was simple, just light blue, light fabric with a beautifully pleated and folded bodice, a fitted waist, and a long, flowing skirt. But it was perfect to me.
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"Horace, you didn't have to - " I start to say, walking up to the dress and fiddling with the fabric between my finger, but Horace interrupted me. "Shut up, (Y/N). Just put it on... You'll probably want to try it before you leave." . . .
A few hours later, at around midnight, Horace, Enoch and I were walking through the forest, the latter of us hand in hand. I was desperately hoisting up my skirt, trying to stop it from getting in the mud, and, thankfully, the top was covered by a long brown coat borrowed off Bronwyn (she was yet to find out).
The moon was still high up in the sky as we reached the town, but, nevertheless, we ran to the pub, hoping to catch the priest before he retired for the night... Or early morning, I suppose you could say. Enoch had big hopes for this plan, and he was certain that we'd find the old priest, but I wasn't so sure. Would we even find him? And even if we did, how could we be sure that he'd be drunk enough to marry us? But I didn't mention my fears to my boyfriend... I wasn't about to rain on his parade.
Horace pushed the squeaky door to the pub open, and all conversation died out as the three of us (an odd sight, I'm sure) entered. Enoch cleared his throat, letting go of my hand. "Excuse me," he said, turning to the barman, who grunted in response. "We're looking for the priest... Is he usually in here?" The barman shook his head. "'E ain't in 'ere, and 'e ain't on this island either. I'm afraid he's off at the mainland, church business."
