Obscure Occurrences |C. BAREBONE|

☛ Five ☚

• November, 1925 •

Three days later, When Victor Burnett had finally left for work. Genevieve quickly fumbled through her wardrobe to find the perfect dress. One that would accentuate every bodily feature she prided herself on. Even if she was small, and her package wasn't as full as she desired, her pretty face got her out of a lot of trouble.

"And what is the little Miss up to today?" Mrs. Glover asked, her smile unconscious as she saw Genevieve press a beautiful, yellow dress against her body. It was as if Genevieve was a child once again, pretending to be a princess while she looked over every inch of her body. 

When the girl still didn't reply to the maid, she stepped closer and looked over her shoulder to see the girl's eyes clearly. And she swore, Penny Glover hadn't seen such a look since she was Genevieve's age.

"Young lady, you're gonna have me in so much trouble",

"What do you mean Penny?" Genevieve asked, not pulling her eyes from the mirror.

"If your Father saw you now -acting like some love struck puppy- you wouldn't be seein' the light of day" Mrs. Glover chuckled quietly before rubbing Genevieve's forearms.

"Don't you worry Penny. You know Father's schedule. No harm in letting me go for a few hours",

"The problem is not lettin' you go outside. The problem is you goin' out to see this boy of yours" Mrs. Glover tutted before Genevieve turned toward the older woman.

"Listen-" Genevieve soothed, "- nothing will happen, I will see him and move on".

"Are you sure little Miss, don't lie to me now" Mrs. Glover said sternly.

"Like I could lie to you Penny".

And just like that, Mrs. Glover left with a sigh as Genevieve began to change and slip into that pale, yellow dress.

Genevieve -when finally dressed- stared at her hair, longer than fashionably accepted. Many women and girls around her were allowed those boyish bobs and the excessive make up that accentuated sharp and soft features alike. Instead, her father desired her honey-brown locks to remain long. So, after half-an-hour of contemplating her approach, Genevieve quickly grabbed many pins and attempted to hide her longer strands and create short curls to hide them. Thus creating an illusion of short, fluffy, curly hair.

"Perfect" she smiled to herself before pulling on her blue coat and her cloche hat. For a second Genevieve had to assess herself in the mirror until she could finally pull herself away and escape to Steen National Bank, where Mary Lou Barebone would, hopefully, be giving her speech.

Once Genevieve said goodbye and ran out she had already forgotten her previous life with the slam of the door. Her mind was throbbing with thoughts of him and how his gentle voice was already creating a mantra of her name.

"-Our beautiful city is plagued with darkness and hidden corruption. If we open our eyes, we will see the filth that walks among us... Witches!".

When Genevieve came upon fourteenth street... She couldn't believe she was so happy to hear such prejudices being spouted. And her smiles only brightened when she saw frail hands handing out those NSPS pamphlets.

Genevieve ran sneakily in-between the people to reach the front where she saw the symbol of the Second Salemers. Taught, embroidered hands curled into fists, breaking at the smooth wood that cracked into a broken wand. Beside that sign, was two girls (either side of Mary Lou). One was with a face older than she appeared, her body only seeming more sickly frail with the out of fashion, black dress. While on the other side was a small girl of barely ten, her blonde her painfully pulled back under her cloche as she was adorned in various shades of grey. Genevieve could only pity the girls; especially the young one whose eyes were already drained of life.

Finally, Genevieve turned her head just enough to see Credence. Back and forth people would approach him, reaching for the leaflets he held tightly in his hands. She only could wonder how long he had been outside on this cold, November day with no covering. All he wore was that distinctive broad-brimmed, black hat that made him stand out far too much. After all, his clothes were like nothing Genevieve had come across on the streets of New York City.

Hesitantly, Genevieve approached, her body droning with a wild anticipation which she kept subdued.

"Hello?" Genevieve spoke up, her voice sounding as if she was asking a question. However, he still didn't raise his head, only those black eyes of his.

"Could I please receive a leaflet?" She asked, knowing this was the only contact she could have with him so far.

Credence did recognise her.

How could he not?

She was adorned in the brightest colours and fine-tailored clothes. Therefore, he was reluctant to pass her a pamphlet, instead, he wanted her to remain before him for a little longer. Credence internally hoped, she would do what she did when she first attended a NSPS rally.

Once the leaflet was pressed into her hand, Genevieve once again stood beside him, her lips curling into a smile while she watched him from the corner of her eye. Credence was something she had never encountered before. Unlike the young men Victor had brought round every now and again, Credence wasn't forward and didn't push further into her comfort zone. However, she desired that he would soon speak to her, allow her to hear his voice loud and clear.

Eventually though, Genevieve noticed she would have to make the first move. This is where they both became stuck. Genevieve had never made the first move. But her Father always told her: "if you want it enough, breaking the golden rule doesn't seem so bad".

"I am Genevieve" She finally spoke up beside him, honestly taking him aback. He nearly panicked after the announcement, Credence could barely hear her voice.

"I'm Credence".

Genevieve smiled at the slightest sound.

Small steps meant a lot in the long run.