𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞

Drafts

Clair turned to face Florence with a wide smile. "It is quite good." He told her matter-a-factly.

"Of course it is!" She exclaimed in return.

Her mother's eyes flitted between the two of them suspiciously with a slight smile, but quickly began. "I see you three have already acquainted yourselves with one another."

"Oh well I've known Clair forever." Cathryn remarked, whilst raising her teacup to take a sip.

Florence envied her for a split second before reminding herself once more that she needn't be concerned. Clair nodded as if to say, it's true.

"I've known Cathryn since," He paused to ponder and looked upwards in astonishment.

"Oh hell, I don't know, since forever." Clair recounted, his lips quirking up at the edges.

Her mother finished chewing. "And how do the two of you have the pleasure of meeting?" She inquired.

"His father worked alongside mine at the old press." Cathryn explained, flicking her delicate wrist as she spoke almost insinuating a flow in her story.

"Oh, wonderful." Florence's mother chimed.

"And it is so kind of you," Clair paused to clear his throat.

"And your husband to let us stay with you here Mrs. Fawn." He finished politely.

Cathryn nodded in silent agreement.

"Oh of course, and please, call me Mrs. Harriet." She replied kindly.

"Oh, it is such a lovely grounds." Cathryn blurted out of the blue, she was busy examining the estate behind them, and the expanse of garden that lay ahead.

"Yes, I owe it to my husband. I would be dreadfully lost without him." Mrs. Harriet noted with rather pursed lips.

"Clair, what have you brought in your briefcase?" Florence finally spoke.

"Florence!" Her mother shot her a disapproving glare.

Clair chuckled lightly. "Oh it's quite alright Mrs. Harriet."

She gave a small smile in return, but widened her eyes to indicate that Florence ought to not make the mistake again. Florence relaxed her shoulders and looked to Clair expectantly. She was greeted with his large round eyes, in contrast to his rather angular but not harsh features of his face. He must certainly be a little older than me, Florence thought.

Her eyes darted to the small case as his nimble fingers fumbled over the latches. The leather sides sprang open at once, the contents inside becoming revealed. The saw a heaping pile of papers, all scrawled on violently, messy splotches of ink sprinkling the edges.

"These are all of my drafts, my failed stories more to say." He explained with a half smile.

She lingered on his eyes as he spoke, almost entranced by their rich hazel color.

"May I examine them." She asked softly, refraining herself from just seizing the case right away.

"Why else would I have brought them, Florence?" He questioned lightheartedly, it sounded as if they had know each other for ages.

It made Florence's heart flutter momentarily. She randomly chose a paper out of the heap and began reading it, taking pauses to nibble at her food or take a sip of tea. The soft breeze fluttered the parchment in her fingers, she rose another hand to steady it.

Clair observed as he eyes scanned from side to side, her evidently becoming immersed in the story. After a moment she stopped drinking her tea, but buried her face into the paper wholly. Cathryn and Mrs. Harriet began conversing, but Clair kept his eyes on her intently. She was clearly unaware of her surroundings, it excited Clair to see her so.

She jerked her head up, eyes wide with wonder. "Why, Clair!" She exclaimed with a squeal.

He laughed, brushing his hair aside as he waited for her response. She sat for another moment, eyes fixated on some point in the distance before she whirled to face him.

"That was marvelous! I can't imagine why you wouldn't publish it." Her awestruck face melted into a slight frown at the end of her sentence.

Her eyes lit back up, glittering with excitement. "The bit with the maiden," She paused and pondered, her face forming an even larger grin as she clicked the story into place.

"Or I guess servant, was quite brilliant." She tried desperately to calm herself down.

"Ah yes! They're all drafts, you see, I just didn't have much desire for them. You can have the whole lot if you'd like." He offered with a smirk, knowing how much they'd excite her.

"Oh, do you mean it?" She marveled at him.

"Of course, I was going to throw them away anyways. Might as well put them to good use." He said coolly.

He plucked the page from her fingers and placed it back into the case. He proceeded to latch it up and hand it to her. She eagerly grabbed it, their fingers barely grazing each other in the transaction. It was enough to make Florence blush though. She desperately hoped Clair hadn't noticed. She placed the briefcase firmly in her lap, her skirts bunching up around it. Clair watched her as she did so, glad to have someone appreciate his stories as much as he did.

"The bit with the servant is quite clever isn't it?" Cathryn laughed, looking towards Florence.

"You know it?" She asked in surprise.

"Oh, Cathryn's read my drafts countless times over." Clair interjected with a long gaze towards her.

Florence tried to decipher whether it was a longing gaze or just a regular one. She forced herself to abandon the though and reached for another sip of tea instead. They all continued their conversations for a while longer, before Mintie gathered up their silverware and marched back to the kitchen. In the end of it all, Florence found herself walking alongside Clair through the gardens.