Daisies. Daisies. And many more beautiful daisies.
I sniff the bundle of flowers cradled in my arm, and am immediately lulled. My dad hates the smell, but is also allergic. Mum - she's never really cared for it, but allows me to bring bundles home every so often. I'm not quite sure where I get the love of flowers from. A unique gene of my own, I suppose.
On this mid-summer's day, the sun blares through the cotton clouds that drift lazily through the sky. Its bright rays shimmer off the tall, green grass that sway to and fro from the gentle breeze. Gail munches happily in a hidden patch of clover, her chestnut coat shining radiantly in the warm sunlight.
I immediately think of James, and what a beautiful sketch he could create with this perfect scene. I do wish he were here now, but since the day I saw that lovely picture he drew of me, I haven't had the courage to approach him. Three days to be exact, and I miss him like a baby.
A blissful sigh escapes my lips as I stop, my eyes roaming freely over the enormous view. All the glory of England can be spotted from this point. Sloping hills, with perfectly trimmed hedges, bright red barns and old brown ones, quant, yet inviting farm houses, and the many shining coats of horses scattered throughout. If I had to choose a perfect life, I would choose this.
If only James were here.
I let out another sigh, bending down to pluck more daisies from the dirt. Bees buzz around the flowers, large amounts of pollen stuck to their toes, and I can only think of the delicious honey it will soon make.
Suddenly, two hands cup themselves around my eyes, and I gasp ferociously, dropping my bundle of flowers.
"Guess who?" asks an all-too-innocent voice. A voice I happen to recognize immediately.
"The Queen?" I poke humorously, resting my hands on my hips, but he only tightens his grip around my eyes.
"No, guess again."
"I know who you are," I slur.
"Who?" he pesters.
"James Nicholls of Great Britain, now let me go!"
"Ooh, feisty today, aren't we?" he grins, releasing his hold on my head. "There, be free."
"Thank you," I nod, bending down to gather my scattered flowers. "Now help me pick these up."
"I most certainly will," he obeys my command and bends down next to me, and I watch his long fingers carefully pick the daisies from the ground. He does have such nice hands.
"How did you know I was here?" I ask inquisitively.
"I merely guessed, Katherine darling," he smiles, never taking his eyes off his daisy-picking. "You seemed like a daisy person to me, and today is such lovely day. I've often come here to gather daisies for my mother."
"How kind of you," I reply with the hint of a tease in my voice. It does feel like it's been so long since we've talked, and I've quite missed it. Then suddenly, out of the blue, I remember the reason I haven't seen him in "so long". The sketch. Oh dear.
My nerves break down and I can feel my cheeks brightening. Why the sudden change in feeling just because I remembered, I don't know. But now I feel as if a secret is being splayed across my forehead, and if I look up from picking the flowers, he'll see and know and everything will be awkward for us.
"There," he states with satisfaction as he leans back, a fist-full of daisies in his hand. He looks at me and smiles, extending his full hand to me, "Here are your daisies, Miss. Katherine."
I accept them with a smile, putting them back in the cradle of my arm. "Thank you, Mr. James."
His gaze doesn't leave me, so I push myself up from the ground, my cheeks growing ever brighter when his gaze still sticks like glue. Grabbing a thick string from my dress pocket, I tie the flowers in a tight bow, motioning him to Gail as I walk towards her.
He nods, and quickly follows. Gail whinnies as we approach, and James gives her a hard pat on the rump as I stuff the flowers in her saddle bag.
"So where've you been?" James asks abruptly, "I thought for sure you'd be back in a day or two, but three days! I don't know how you could resist."
I see a smirk toying his lips, making it obvious that he is only playing with me. But I chuckle.
"It's quite easy, actually. You're not that charming, you know."
"Really?" He raises his eyebrows in mock surprise, "You don't think I'm charming?"
I chuckle, hiding the fact that I don't want to respond. Yes, James, you're so, so charming.
"Of course you're charming, buuut-"
"Oooh, so now there's a but. Really Katherine, you can be so difficult."
"I know, but don't encourage me," I smirk.
He laughs, but doesn't respond. Only pierces his gaze into mine, so deep and solid; penetrating and so very intimidating.
"Would you like to walk with me, Katherine?" he suddenly asks, softly.
"Where?"
"Oh, anywhere. Off to China, maybe Greece or Rome. Italy! Or we can wander deep down onto the great road of imagination, and maybe ride some unicorns and fight off dragons. Wherever you like, Katherine dear."
I am breath-taken at his choice of locations. All so adventurous and and beautiful. Imaginative. Impossible, but amazing.
"Hmm," I hum, placing a finger against my lips in thought, "I choose Rome."
"Wonderful," he smiles, and points to the distance, "To Rome!"
"To Rome!" I repeat, joining him at his side as we lazily walk through the grass, breathing our remaining laughs.
"I did miss you, Katherine." Suddenly serious again, he turns to look at me, his eyes full of different emotions. "Why didn't you come and visit again?"
"I..." What am I suppose to tell him? "I just...thought I'd give you some space...?"
What an obvious explanation, Katherine! Good one!
"Space?" He laughs, "Believe me when I say: I've got plenty." Yeah, good one, Katherine.
"Well-"
"Is something wrong?"
"No, I...no." I'm not usually a bad liar, but this is insane. I'm making a complete fool of myself. Maybe I should tell him the truth...
"Katherine."
He stops, places his hands on my shoulders and faces me, his eyes pleading for truth.
"You can tell me anything. I promise, any secret you might have; it's completely safe with me."
I sigh. "This is different. I don't want to make you feel-"
"Make me feel?" He exclaims, suddenly confused, "Katherine, what is this about?"
"When I came over, three days ago, I sa...I was looking in your...I..."
"What?" he repeats, but a millisecond after the question slips his mouth, he seems to understand what I'm trying to say. He takes a deep inhale, and tucks his chin in. "You saw my sketch of you."
I look down. "Yes."
He nervously blows the air from his lips, and tilts my chin to him, "I'm so sorry, Katherine. I should have asked your permission before I-"
"Permission? I don't care, it's just..."
"Just what?"
"I...I don't know. Why did you draw me?"
His eyes become completely blank, but his breaths hitch nervously. I almost hope it's because of his feelings for me. It may be blunt, but I know my feelings for him have grown, and I long for his loving touch.
"Would it be too direct of me to say I love you, Katherine?"
"Only if it's not too direct of me to say I love you, James."
He loves me. So, the feeling is mutual. My hearts does a flip in my chest, and I can't help but smile. His eyes glow with the same emotion, and he pulls me into a tight embrace. His warmth surrounds me and overwhelms me. A soft sigh flows naturally from my lips, and his chest rises and falls as he chuckles at my reaction.
But then he pulls away. My heart droops and it takes everything not to pout outwardly. His hands run softly up my back, along my arms and to my shoulders, pushing me back to meet his gaze. He smiles, a genuinely happy smile, but it fades and turns to a passionate expression as he leans forward and whispers, "I'm going to kiss you now."
I quietly gasp, "Alright."
Slowly at first, he inches his lips towards mine, shutting his eyes as our mouths come nearer to each other. And then all at once we are two pieces of a puzzle, fitting together perfectly without fault.
Yet as intense as it feels, it's not a passionate kiss; but tender, and soft. Gentle and caring. He cups my neck with his hands as I wrap mine around his shoulders, and the vastness of the scene fades away, dwindling down to us solely. He is all I remember and all I see, the soft touch of his lips on mine.
But as all beautiful things must end, so must this. Hesitantly he pulls away, his eyes sparkling with a new happiness that seems to engulf his entire body.
"I love you, Katherine," he whispers.
"I love you, James."
--
Everyone loves the kissing scenes, so I'm confident in the fact that all T. Hiddy fans who've read this, liked it. Or did you? Criticism is welcome, because it honestly helps. If you didn't like this chapter, let me know why! If you did, tell me your favorite part. I love to hear from you guys!
But this is honestly one of my favorite chapters, and I will warn you: enjoy the perfection while it lasts. War is coming.
- 〽️️️iddleAsgard, at your service.