Shades of Tea

Irish Breakfast

"We shall not cease from exploration, and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time." - T. S. Eliot

We were already on the road before the sun had risen making our way to the next destination on the list. Breakfast had been leftover cake and tea, while lunch was to be chicken sandwiches and cookies the landlady had baked for us. I was tired but also determined to stay awake till the sun rose. Dylan had told me the sunrise was supposed to be quite beautiful and had already made plans to stop and take pictures.

"The sun should be rising soon," he announced, pulling off the road and parking on the side. He was right, the sunrise was truly magnificent. The reds, oranges and purples mixed together to create something quite spectacular. I never knew how a simple event like this, taken for granted every day could affect me like this. I had always been an early riser but I never took the time to just watch the skies lighting up by the immense power of the sun. My heart smiled when I felt the warmth hit my frozen cheeks, heating the blood under my skin.

I turned to look at Dylan whose face was hidden by his camera as he continued to click photos. My eyes softened at his excited expression, radiating his passion for this art. Early that morning I had a sneaked a look at his camera and was shocked by the beauty of nature he had captured in each frame. He had a talent I wish I could possess. I never really tried to find what I was good at because I didn't feel the need, not since my life had catapulted itself into a black hole. Despite my lack of talent, I still admired the art that he created with his bare hands, allowing myself to relish the unfamiliarity of world as he saw it. It was easy to look, but to see was another thing. Dylan could ssee, I just wished that I could too.

When the sun had settled in the sky Dylan urged me to get back into the car so we could get back on the road again. I turned the radio on to fill the silence, flicking till I found a suitable station and settled into my seat. From the corner of my eye I saw Dylan head bopping slightly to the beat of the music, smiling as he listened to the lyrics. At that moment in time I desperately wished I could smile. I willed my face to move but I felt like they were paralysed, destined to be stuck in a frown.

I settled for staring out the window instead, watching the fields pass me by and the greenery transitioning into concrete. We had entered a new city after a few hours on the road, and I was glad we'd be stopping here overnight because long distance traveling made me anxious.

What's the plan? I typed.

"We're going exploring. New, unfamiliar places are good for the soul. Trust me, you haven't seen anything yet." He grinned. If he smiled any wider I feared he would rip his face in half. His eyes reflected a love for this city I hadn't seen in any of our previous explorations. This warmed my heart, letting the final wall of apprehension dissolve, leaving it exposed to the elements. "Lets go." Wordlessly I followed him, winding through the streets taking in as much as I could. The architecture was incredible, rustic and beautiful all at the same time. In high school I had taken an art history course, with one part of the syllabus consisting of architecture of the ages. I noticed this city had a mixture of themes running from building to building.

One street would have beautifully haunting gothic arches and colourful, patterned, tiled roofs and another would have romantic influences with their beautifully carved statues and large windows. This city held so much history in such a small space, the extent of it left me reeling. "There's a castle on the hill if you want to see it?"

Sure.

He led me through the smaller inner streets, lined by small boutiques selling quirky crockery or handmade jewellery. The first one we stepped into smelt amazing from the fresh jams being cooked alongside authentic natural honey. Each jar had been filled with sweet stickiness, oozing with natural ingredients all hand grown. I picked a jar of raspberry jam and took it to the counter. The middle aged woman smiled at me. "Personal favourite of mine." She winked as she bagged my purchase. I thanked her with a nod before leaving the shop.

"So you like jam then?" Dylan smirked. I nodded, popping the jar open and sticking my index finger into the pot of goodness. Scooping a generous helping I immediately licked it off, my taste buds burst with the tartness of the berries and the sweetness of the sugar. I offered Dylan a taste, who smiled and followed my actions. "Definitely a good choice ma'am. I have never tasted a better pot of jam." He grinned before dipping his finger again.

I put the jar away before we could finish it off, pointing to the bakery opposite. I just dragged him in, not caring whether he wanted to go or not. Standing by the entrance, I inhaled the smells of fresh bread and pastries. There's something so tasteful about the smell of baking, it reminded me of home when I was younger. My mother was an excellent baker, we had a fresh loaf of bread every week including cookies on the weekend, cakes for birthdays and when she was feeling especially happy we'd have a cookie party with our friends just so that she could bake. It saddened me that my fondest memories were just fading away with each day as if they were words on a chalkboard.

We bought some bread and cheese from the shop next door before, filling a picnic basket with homemade foods as we walked through the street. The atmosphere was, wonderful. I enjoyed watching the shopkeepers show off their works of art with such pride and yet sincere modesty as they made their living. It was a simple life and yet it was the most fulfilling. I'd never seen anything outside the city and discovering a new culture was a eye opening experience for me. I never knew people could just be happy.

I could understand Dylan's need for soul bearing kind of adventure. "Come on. Let's go up to the castle!" He cried excitedly, the childish grin bursting with so much excitement I found myself running after him.

The castle was a massive, stone fortress. It oozed with power and dominance, standing tall on the hilltops, commanding a presence no one could ignore. We ran through the maze of the ruins, playing hide and seek between pillars that still stood upright. We reached the highest point just in time for sunset, perfect time for our picnic. Dylan climbed on to the broad wall, standing tall with his arms stretched out, "I'm the kind of the world!" He shouted to the sky, laughing as he helped me up. The basket was placed between us as we picked our choice of food, staring out to the setting sun burning the skies.

I gazed at Dylan looking out to the little bustling town as if he were its protector. I opened my min, breaking through the walls I held around my thoughts so that I could really saw him. The way his crows feet beside his eyes deepened when he smiled, how his eyes held so much knowledge and experience, the smile that carried a thousand heartbeats. His blond hair shine brightly in the sunlight, curling messily over his slightly freckled forehead and his tanned face tinted with a hint of colour as the light hit the apples of his cheeks. He turned to me, questions forming in his eyes, never leaving his lips.

I don't know what came over me but I raised my hand and rested it on his cheek as I shuffled closer to him. We looked deeply into each other's eyes, communicating not by words but by our thoughts. I leaned forward till I was close enough to smell his musky leather and coffee aroma. "Elise?" He finally said when I leaned further still. I placed a finger to my lips indicating him to stay still. My heart was beating erratically in my ribcage telling me to go back but my rational part of my brain had deserted me. I closed my eyes and placed my lips to his.