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HumanPermalink Reply by ✓ Caleb Eli Segal ~Mod~ on January 27, 2020 at 17:18

It made sense - a lot of it, actually. Caleb had rarely met someone his own age who understood what it meant to have a family grave plot with actual bodies. He stood, leaning against a pillar. It was cool to the touch and felt good against his warm skin. Sometimes it seemed his body physically protested against sleep and the tossing and turning did little to cool him down. He considered his words carefully before he spoke, knowing how much he’d appreciated the kindness of others when he has first arrived in Evermore with a truly broken heart.  It had taken him a long time to be able to be okay with expressing the positives about a relationship that had been severed, but now seemed like a good one. Truthfully, it wasn’t possible to tell the story of Ava’s loss without telling the story of Ava’s love. Caleb carefully removed the ring from his pocket and held it under the lamp light between them. It had belonged to his Mama. When he was a little boy, she had told him that when he knew for sure that he loved someone and would for ninety years...it should be theirs. It had sounded like a fairytale when he was six years old, but the reality was that love was painful and complicated and required an exorbitant amount of sacrifice. 

He’d never known how much it would realize him to grow or give up until Ava’s ginger head and bright eyes bounced into his life: daring him to be the best version of himself that existed. Once her sunshine was gone, it seemed like he was floating in space without gravity to tie him down. “I...” Caleb still struggled to put it into words. “I had to let myself go at first.” He admitted, a slightly chagrined look on his chiseled features before allowing his voice to trail off into the space between them. “I had to be willing to face my world being forcibly changed. No matter how it happens, death is ugly.” He still remembered the day that he'd been sitting in a library, meeting with a friend for coffee and the phone call came. All that he'd heard was to turn on the news. There had been no prior communication from detectives, or doctors. It was just the news. He'd found out that she was dead at the same time as the rest of Paris. Even tonight, the buzzwords used by Natalie Ortega on M6 could ring in his head. 

C'était un accident d'avion du pire. Une tragédie totale. Accident de monstre. Aucun corps trouvé.

It was a plane crash of the worst kind. A total tragedy. Freak accident. No body found.

Her plane. He could recognize it instantly from the footage of the left wing in the rain, as Ava boarded. He'd ridden it, adjusted the engine for repairs, and even taken control of the steering sometimes when they were out together. Perhaps, only, if he had been there. Caleb hung his head for a moment. He had never claimed to be the best engineer, but it was Ava who had only trusted him to check her engine and make sure that everything was running smoothly. Or even worse, perhaps, if another man had checked the engine before she left. Would this never have happened? Love could be blind. It was only in admitting those failures that he'd come to grips with what had really happened. It was an accident. It was not his fault. He could have done everything right and the storm would still have bested them. “Every plan and every...dream I had was suddenly thrown out the window.” A choked sound came from his throat that surprised him. “Even now. I still remember sometimes. Two years down the road and it is easy to let it get to you.” 

Sometimes there was no easy answer. It was getting away from the notoriety and the noise that had led him across the sea. He'd boarded public, Air France, perhaps not carrying if it fell out of the sky. Caleb regretted leaving without telling his family. He knew to this day that his aunt still watered the flowers they'd planted for his bride-to-be and sometimes had to deal with the intrusion of curious minds at her flower shop in central Paris. 

"Sometimes, it is easy to feel like loving someone like that means that everything...all the good was just...pointless." He ducked his head, well aware of that he’d been vulnerable in front of a virtual stranger. Caleb had come to find that grief made him more honest than he sometimes liked, but it was something he’d accepted over time. It sometimes through social norms out the window and meant that the people who most understood were fellow night walkers like yourself who understood in ways that only death could make measurable. "It took me time to stop thinking that. Time and distance. Distance and people." 

People and art. Art and flowers. Flowers and graveyards. Graveyards and goodbyes. Goodbyes and good mornings.

To him, Ava had always been a prize worth winning, but he hadn’t always know he was worthy of her. It had taken time to grow into his own skin. As time began to heal her loss, the best way he had found to honor her memory was to be a man who deserved a woman with such spirit. “If it’s okay to ask,” Caleb reached for the basket of art supplies that he had hidden away. “What was his name?” 

Ailward GuardPermalink Reply by ✓ Octavia Grace Ivakov on January 30, 2020 at 8:48

Somehow she thought this topic would be harder to talk about but something about being around someone who never knew her husband helped, he wasn’t looking at her like she was going to fall apart the way that a lot of the others did and there was something peaceful about that “I’ve seen my share of it” she agreed, nodding her head slowly because it wasn’t the first death she had experienced, she had seen many people come and go, as was the nature of the Ailward guard to see that and she had lost many friends. But this was the first time it had been someone so close to her that she felt empty now that they were gone.

She pressed her lips together as she listened to the way he talked about his own loss and she could almost feel the pain in his voice, to the point where she closed her eyes in response because she felt herself tearing up. It was something they shared it seemed, losing the person you considered to be your one. It almost felt like looking in the mirror but not in an unnerving way, it was somewhat comforting because he could actually understand the way she felt about it all “Sometimes for me it feels like forever ago and then others I wake up and entirely forget it all happened, like it was yesterday” those were the hardest days because it felt like the realization hit her all over again and that made it hard to get herself up.

It was the little things more than anything, things that would feel insignificant to anyone else and yet to her they were attached to fragments of memory which she wasn’t ready to let go “I don’t like feeling like that” she admitted in a soft voice as she tucked her leg under herself and pressed her lips together “People keep trying to tell me how I should feel but I don’t really have...control over it” she felt like she was coping in her own way but it wasn’t laying down and crying all the time, she felt like she needed to get up and do things, distract herself and feel like she was doing something worthwhile with her time. She had to shed some light on what happened and make sure it never happened to someone else she loved again.

Time had been helping though, the more months that passed the less bad days she had and the more she felt like she could do something productive again, she had even been out on a mission recently which felt like a big milestone for her “His name was Vlad” she responded and nodded her head slightly “And hers?”

HumanPermalink Reply by ✓ Caleb Eli Segal ~Mod~ on February 1, 2020 at 0:49

“Her name was Ava.” Caleb smiled softly at the ground. “She was a force to be reckoned with and if I’m being totally honest, I don’t know how we were ever on the exact same wave length. Perhaps we weren’t. I liked that though. She kept me on my toes.”

He still remembered how she’d come home from flying in a whirlwind of red hair, quickened pace, and late boarding passes. It usually took more than a little charm at the Metro Pass gate to convince the guard to let her through. Caleb could see her now: bouncing on her toes and searching for his familiar stance in the crowd.  The old guard would simply shake his head and wave her past with a warning ‘not to forget next time’. Her running late had never bothered Caleb, not really. Running late and Ava Mitchell were practically synonymous with one another and it hadn’t taken him long after meeting her to realize that. He often figured it was because she was usually so excited: it made her forget things. She’d never been able to sit still very long, but when she was with Caleb, she’d been able to relax. He had become a breath of fresh air in her busy world. 

It would have been easy to let memories play in his head and send him off somewhere else, but he was here in this moment with someone else. Someone who also was missing another. He liked the name Vlad. It was Russian, by the sound of it, and made an impression. It reminded him of a warrior and although he didn't know much about Octavia's husband, he could tell how fond she'd been of him, simply because of the grief she carried at his passing. Caleb looked up at blonde young woman and took a deep breath. He wondered what the stories in her home had been. Had their been as many arrivals as in his own? Travel had always been a part of love in the past for him, but now he was looking for something different. He wanted a place to come home to and just stay where there was no flurry of activity or packing of unnecessary suitcases. He was no longer looking for his love to provide adventure. He needed something steady: like the warm fire of conversation in the evening. 

He toyed with one of the horsehair brushes, gently sweeping it across his palm in motion that was both distracting and comforting. He’d used himself and others as a canvas plenty of times when the materials weren’t available. On the palette were dried marks of azure and sunflower yellow, telling tales of blue ocean peppered with sand. He remembered that painting. It hung in his loft bedroom. About six months prior, Caleb had moved from his first apartment in the city to a tiny house on plot of land with some lazy animals and bright plants that reminded him of Annecy. He enjoyed having his own property and many sleepless nights had been spent there as well, but there was something special about this gazebo. It still felt more safe than the expanse of the two acres he could walk without interruption. Perhaps, because it was less lonely. “Feelings don’t tend to like being controlled.” He swallowed. “We either float with that tide or fight it until we drown."  

Caleb yawned. He was tired and it was the chill in the January pre-Dawn that was keeping him awake now. He’d heard of talking oneself to sleep, but certainly didn’t know that it worked. “I used to make lists to calm myself. Ten things I could see, ten things I couldn’t. Ten things I loved and ten things I missed.” 

“After a little bit, I started drawing them...” He dabbed his brush in the lake to get it wet. “What is your favorite color? Favorite thing?” The Frenchman happened to agree with old musicals that remembering your favorite things made life not so bad. Even the darkest parts. 

Ailward GuardPermalink Reply by ✓ Octavia Grace Ivakov on February 2, 2020 at 15:33

She smiled softly as he talked about the woman he loved, it was clear from his tone that he really cared for her and he missed her dearly, she could relate to that exact sentiment because it was precisely what she felt when it came to Vlad, she missed so many things about him “I feel like all the good ones do that, keep you on your toes, surprise you” but how did she even describe Vlad to someone who didn’t know him “He was a character, for someone who should be strong and regal, he was very in touch with everyone, the kind of person who would always try to make everyone around him just a little happier” she nodded slightly, he was full of life and that made Octavia want to live hers to keep his memory alive, she knew how much he would hate to know anyone was moping over him or unable to move past his death. So even if it sounded impossible, she had to try.

Her eyes trailed over him as he started painting, seeing the careful way that he moved the brushes with such intent that you could see it would be a good painting without even looking at the paper. She saw that look in many people’s eyes before, it was passion, something she could respect greatly because it was such a serene look, it made a person look complete, almost like they were glowing in a way. “I see that” she spoke softly and nodded her head “I’ve always been so good at keeping my feelings in check” she was always the one who kept control, the one who covered up her own feelings for the sakes of being strong for others and around her children right now, she was exactly that “But this is so different from everything else I’ve experienced” how did you plan for losing the person you loved most? You really couldn’t.

She glanced up at him as he explained the way he would keep himself calm by making lists of ten things “I feel like some of those lists would be easier to complete than others” for example the things she missed would certainly be a row upon row list. It did sound calming though, to just take a few moments to breathe and think about where you were in life. Where would she even start with that though? She leaned a little closer when he explained that he tended to paint them out now though “You look so natural with the paintbrush, almost like it’s supposed to be there” she nodded slightly “Did you study art?” she never got to go to university and study but it was always something she had been curious

She yawned, she was definitely feeling the weight of not sleeping right now and talking to Caleb had made her feel just a little bit calmer, perhaps she just needed to be able to get what was on her mind out in the open and maybe now she had, she might actually have a shot of getting some peaceful rest “Purple” she responded when he asked her favorite color but when he asked her favorite thing she paused for a moment “Dawn, watching the way the sky looks as it welcomes a new day” it reminded her every ending had a new beginning which gave her a certain amount of peace.

HumanPermalink Reply by ✓ Caleb Eli Segal ~Mod~ on February 10, 2020 at 15:54

There were a lot of different ways to honor people after they passed: for someone it was complete silence and mourning, others the empowerment of returning ash to ash, and still others the ability to turn any dark thing into their greatest strength. Caleb wasn’t sure where he fit on the spectrum, but acceptance hadn’t come easily at first. No - it felt like being drown in ice water and warmed up in peach pie. Caleb had always found art to be a refuge in times of stress and people dying wasn’t any different. He’d attended school more out of duty than actual interest. Despite how arrogant he seemed looking back, it had once seemed perfectly justified to throw his gifts and his liver down the drain in favor of Greek Life. Alcohol could be a powerful sleep aid, but even now on those long nights filled with restless legs, he couldn’t persuade himself to go down that path again. He knew of his own addictive tendencies and very little was worth letting them out of their Pandora's box. “I got my Bachelors. Oui.” Caleb nodded. “I never liked school, even art school. Art for me was always a reaction. It wasn’t about this painter and that painter and all of the classic rules about how lines and perspective come together. I am sure my Mama would have rolled in her grave if she knew I had slacked so much during college.”

The chagrined look of a small child passed over his features temporarily before settling on his shoulders. “She never got to attend art school and despite still managing to find quite a bit of success with her medium, always regretted letting her dreams go...” He liked to think that there were possibilities for both your passions for people and your job in a long day of work, but when it came down to it there were times he talked to his easel more than his friends, simply because he got holed up in the studio. “I suppose that I was more of the feeler in our relationship. Ava was empathetic, but she did not deal well with sick people or hurting things and liking to talk so much could sometimes be her downfall and she’d make me blueberry pancakes to apologize.” 

They were his favorite, but he rarely ever made them on his own. It was his Mama, and his Aunt, and then Ava. There was sometimes no better way to show love than cooking them breakfast for dinner. “Give yourself time. After a while it will feel less like a tropical storm. Perhaps a marshmallow cloud. Far away now, yes, but without them the sky would not be the same.” Caleb took his brush and dabbed it in the purple paint, and reached for her hand, taking to the palm with a gentle stroke. Before too long the petals of an orchid began to appear. A life flower, just as a reminder it was still worth living. Sunrise was slowly beginning to envelope the sky around them. Warm light hit his eyes again, causing him to yawn. He put the paintbrush in his pocket and rose, eager to bury himself in his bed. “Sleep well, Octavia." 

Ailward GuardPermalink Reply by ✓ Octavia Grace Ivakov on February 16, 2020 at 14:11

She gave an effortless smile when he said he got his bachelors but never really liked school, part of her wished she got the chance to experience it but everything she had learned had been a collation of the time she lived rather than any real tuition “I think everyone has their own vision of success and fulfillment, studies aren’t everything” if they were then she wouldn’t have gotten anywhere at all after all, though she did hope that one day perhaps she would get the chance to experience it herself. She gave a somewhat sad smile when he said his mother “You know when you have a child, I feel like a part of your dream becomes wanting them to achieve their dreams” that was her experience as a parent anyway “So you’re honoring that every time you pick up a paintbrush” she offered a comforting smile towards him.

She grinned at the mention of blueberry pancakes “There’s always those things, stupidly small things that mean more than you can explain” she had many with Vlad, sparring in the weapons room, the awful omelet he made her for dinner once, dancing in the candlelight. As time passed she started to see them more as good memories rather than painful ones. “Time” she responded and nodded thoughtfully “Such a strange concept and yet the only real form of healing” nothing felt better immediately and nothing you did would truly heal a wound, but time, time definitely took the pain away bit by bit. She watched the sky, her green eyes reflecting with color as she looked over at the beautiful flower he painted and then to the dawn of the new day, when he said goodnight she smiled waving him off before eventually heading back to her room and finally falling asleep, peacefully for once.

After that, it became somewhat of a routine for her, the evenings were hard and the nights were even harder but every night she found eventually wind up here, talking about anything and everything with her newfound companion. Sometimes the nights felt like they dragged, sometimes they passed in a blink of as eye. Tonight she came slowly up to the usual spot, leaning against a nearby post as she comfortably greeted Caleb “How do you never run out of ideas of things to paint?” she asked curiously, as someone who had never been all that artistic herself it always puzzled her how an artist consistently managed to come up with new and interesting things. She slowly came to sit down on the bench and pushed a Tupperware box towards him “Aurelia decided I needed a baking session” she laughed softly, looking at the mass amount of red velvet cupcakes in the box and nodded slightly, it had been a good day today.

HumanPermalink Reply by ✓ Caleb Eli Segal ~Mod~ on February 25, 2020 at 20:18

It had been several months now that the gazebo had become their meeting place, from dusk to dawn. It was incidental at first, two poor sleepers wandering from their homes to a familiar place that gave a sense of serene and quiet comfort, but slowly Caleb found himself coming towards the lake at night with the hopes of finding Octavia there. He never minded the time on his own, but her presence was also something that had slipped into his nights with an ease that alluded to the tide. It slipped in and out along the shore, guided, but also sometimes crashing against the rocks. Their talks were sometimes heavy, but they also played games. It had been a while since he realized how nice it was to have someone to listen to everything on your mind, whether it was serious or sad.

Tonight, the moon was full and provided ample light for him to have a large canvas with many colors stretched across two of the pillars. It was tied up by ribbon and fluttered softly as a light spring wind blew. He'd wanted to paint more murals, lately, and one to hang seemed like a decent alternative to find more small places inside the concrete gazebo which was becoming more and more colorful thanks to his nightly escapades. In a way, it was becoming living artwork. No one seemed to mind. Caleb glanced over his shoulder, careful not to let the black paint on his brush drip, and contemplated his answer to her question. "Inspiration?" He took a break, sitting on the bench was only just dry from last week's rendition of a Micheal Pollock. "Everywhere. The past, the sky. Other art. The...people around me." He smiled at her briefly before again picking up the brush and continuing to detail the skyscape. 

He was more than happy to accept the baked goods and even took one out to sample it. His own adventures in the kitchen were more adventures than actual success stories. He liked to invent things and inventing and food either went terribly right or terribly wrong. "Family recipe?" He asked, finishing the frosting, and not realizing that his own nose had been painted in the pink sugar. "It's delicious."

Ailward GuardPermalink Reply by ✓ Octavia Grace Ivakov on March 6, 2020 at 17:19

It was funny how time passed and some things changed, while others stayed completely the same. Life as a guard moved rapidly and it seemed like every day there were now leads to follow and threats to worry about, Octavia consistently felt like the world was rushing by around her and she was looking around desperately, almost as though she couldn’t keep up. But then she was reminded of the constants, like getting to spend time with her sister, something which had been long overdue but filled her with a sense of completion, like she had figured out her place in the world again. And then there were nights like this, she knew whenever she couldn’t sleep and just needed to talk or even not talk, Caleb would be here. It became a comfortable thing for the two of them, sometimes they sat side by side in silence, sometimes they talked about many things. It all depended on the day.

The first thing she noticed as she came to the spot where he was sitting was how bright the moon looked tonight, hanging in the cloudless sky, shining against the water of the pond in the distance, she had to take a moment just staring at it in awe to appreciate the beauty they had right in front of them. She offered him a soft smile when he explained where his inspiration for art came from, Octavia had never really been much for art herself but the way he described it was always so beautiful and thoughtful, she thought he had a really interesting imagination “Do you have a favorite source of inspiration?” she questioned curiously as she snuck a glance over his shoulder to see what he was working on “I feel like if I ever made something it would just be….a massive explosion of color, probably representing all the crazy twists and turns in life” really she also liked the idea of flicking a bunch of colors onto a canvas and seeing how it turned out but that hardly sounded intellectual.

“Well Evermore sure has plenty of beautiful sights to capture” her sister did so with photography and she had seen some really gorgeous shots of the city, it amazed her how something simple could look so different and important based on how a photo was taken. After he took one of the cupcakes she put the lid back on the tupperware and placed it aside “More like me and Aurelia messing around until something kinda worked, but I guess we have it down to an art now so it counts” she grinned slightly, turning back to him only to notice the frosting on his nose which made her laugh softly “Uh you…” she grinned slightly leaning a little closer to brush her thumb against her own nose to imply the spot “Seem to be saving a little for later” she gave a somewhat playful smile.

HumanPermalink Reply by ✓ Caleb Eli Segal ~Mod~ on March 18, 2020 at 17:17

When it came to art, Caleb tended to drift away sometimes, but mostly because he enjoyed dwelling in his memory to create his pieces. He remembered his mother doing the same thing. Sometimes, as a child he'd have to call her name several times before she could be found again with colorful liquid splattered all across her, a big grin on her face, as she stared down at her son across the dock. Artists could be absent minded, it was true, but only because life was vivid. He never wanted to forget experiences that time and old age would eventually have recompense on and that was the main reason he carried a sketch book with him everywhere. It was too big to fit in a pocket, so he generally had it in his hand most days, and a pencil stashed behind his ear, or in his pocket. He'd broken a fair share of his favorite ones that way. Most times it was more amusing than painful. "Memory," He smiled, carefully wiping the pink frosting on his nose, although somehow only managing to spread it to his cheeks. "I don't like to forget things and people. Especially people. I know they say a picture is worth a thousand words, but I like to make my own because it brings to life everything I felt in the moment...and the moment now." 

His brows furrowed momentarily, as he knew all of the many faces inside his workshop were not familiar to most who entered it. They weren't labeled with names or stories, either. He liked each person who viewed them to understand the mystery and have a moment of wondering who they were. If they asked, sometimes, Caleb answered. "My Aunt is one of my favorite people to draw." He reached for his leather-bound book which was resting next to them. In general, he went through one every six months. They just filled up rather quickly when he had so much to say, especially, when it was preferable to speaking. Caleb flipped towards the front of the book and found a few pages from the last fall when he'd taught Celeste to video chat. The elderly woman's face, captured in charcoal and oil paint, was full of fondness, shock, and laughter. She had lines underneath her eyes, but they from smiling and the cheekbones she shared with him must have been genetic. It was captioned, my grand-mere voit la internet. "I introduced Cellie to Skype. She has not missed a call since." 

Caleb smiled, but it was obvious that he missed his family. Living anywhere apart from them was difficult and an entire ocean away was quite the prospect. "I look forward to it every week." 

He set the notebook in her hands. "Why don't you choose something? I'm sure you'll find a few explosions of color. They all have some kind of story." 

Ailward GuardPermalink Reply by ✓ Octavia Grace Ivakov on March 18, 2020 at 22:43

His answer to her question about inspiration was both surprising in some ways and not in others, she could see it now that she thought about it, the way that his paintings seemed to reflect some kind of feeling which was no doubt tied to a memory in his mind. “That must be a really good way to capture what’s important” she commented it softly thinking for a moment about what she might want to put into visual media give then chance, thoughts of happy moments dancing around the kitchen or raising her daughter came to mind, things she always held onto as the happiest moments in her life. “Sometimes I wonder if there will be a time where I forget things that once mattered” she commented softly, she hoped not, she hoped there was a way to hold onto it.

The way he talked about his aunt made a small smile tug at her lips, there was this warmth in his voice which seemed to be rare, he was usually quite quiet but she had managed to get him to open up a little with time, she felt comfortable around him now, though they still spent a lot of time in silence. She leaned over, looking at the sketches he was showing her in the book, she person he drew looked like such a warm and kind person “I feel lucky that I don’t have to miss my family like that” she commented softly, at least the ones who were still here anyway “Do you ever feel tempted to go back there?” she was sure he must sometimes, even if he had to take a boat to get there “But technology definitely makes the distance easier” nowadays it could feel like you were even in the same room.

Taking the notebook, she flipped through it slowly taking in the images “You know we have spent so many nights here, talking, not talking but now I realize we really don’t know that much about one another” she smiled as she took in each image one by one, getting a feel for the way he expressed himself with art “Why don’t we right that huh? You ask me what you want to know about me, I’ll ask what I want to know about you” she pursed her lips for a moment stopping on a painting he had done in the notebook of a place “Where is your hometown?” she decided to ask with a hesitant smile hoping he wouldn’t feel too overwhelmed by her idea.

HumanPermalink Reply by ✓ Caleb Eli Segal ~Mod~ on March 18, 2020 at 23:16

"I think that is why a lot of people gravitate towards art." He said. "The illusion of making something unforgettable means you never have to completely lose something...or someone. I don't think anyone wants to experience forgetting. People come up with clever ways to out run it. don't they?" Caleb twirled his pencil in between his fingers, contemplating her question. He did miss his family. It had never been large in number, but it had been large in love and he knew that he'd given his guardian her fair share of trials over the years, perhaps, even contributed to the number of wrinkles on her face. His teenage years had exactly been squeaky clean, but Celeste had always been understanding. Perhaps, sometimes, he even acted out in hopes that she would be angry, but anger never came. "I do miss my family." Caleb pursed his lips, quite unsure how to put into words the idea that you would purposefully stay away from a place and people you loved because it reminded you of harder times. "But, I do not miss Paris. It was never a place of comfort to me. The first time I moved there was as a teenager, when my Mama died. I had to leave friends and school." 

"I have gone back once, six months ago. To collect some of my possessions and put our...my apartment up for rent. It was time to keep moving. I still have a few mementos. Like, the baby willow tree, my art..." He tapped his forehead. "Memories." 

He had to admit that it would be nice to learn more about Octavia. They'd spent a lot of time together, plenty of it quiet, and he always felt like he could talk to her, despite rarely feeling that with many he'd met. Perhaps, it was the simple idea that they'd been through similar circumstances that made speaking up less frightening. Perhaps, it was her soft way of speaking and kind eyes, or perhaps, it was just finding someone who shared his nightly ritual of not actually sleeping. "I grew up in the French Alps, in a small town that was mainly a tourist attraction." He tilted his head. "You know Beauty and her Beast, oui? Much of the small cities in Europe look like this. Old brick and stone with lots of nature. Rivers that run through them and lots of flowers."

"They are, in a way, picturesque." He smiled softly. "My Mama grew up in Paris, but she never liked the city. Nature was good for her headaches and so with the money she'd saved from skipping university, she bought a farm. It was very much a...que dis-tu...fixer-upper." 

"But, I did not mind." He flipped a few pages in the book until coming across a picture of the chalet, which was nestled between a small man-made lake and a large apple grove. He'd taken photos before he left to make sure that he had plenty to draw. "It was not much at first, but it was home. Lots of ducks to quack and chickens to feed. It was a large space and because she could not always afford the land, we rented much of it to local farmers, who taught me a lot about raising flowers and repairing all the broken windows that happened when I became too ambitious with sticks and balls."

A sheepish look crossed over his face and Caleb looked away for a moment. "It was a happy place. If I ever went back to France, I would not mind retiring on that farm as an old man. A bunch of animals and a lot of paint."

That was all it took to keep him happy. He liked his solitude and finding someone he could enjoy it with was something very new. As he finished, a bit of curiosity came over him, though he was slow to speak at first. "What is your favorite song?" 

Ailward GuardPermalink Reply by ✓ Octavia Grace Ivakov on March 19, 2020 at 23:04

She lifted her feet and tucked them under herself where she was sitting, making herself comfortable because she enjoyed just being able to sit and talk like this, sometimes they would sit here in silence when they both needed to just stop and think but she definitely enjoyed the nights where the topics would just randomly roll. She liked hearing his thought and opinions on things, she liked hearing how other people saw the world. “Yeah, I used to write journals but I stopped at some point” she responded and then pressed her lips together “I don’t really remember why honestly” maybe she was just busy living in the present and didn’t think about what she would want to look back on. “You know they say home can be more like a person than a place, I think that resonates with me” it didn’t matter where the aspects and the guards were, they would always be her family and wherever they were was home to her.

She had to admit she kinda loved the idea of bringing a willow tree back from home was kinda beautiful “I’ll bet that tree will grow really big and tall one day” she commented softly “Where did you plant it?” she did love nature, she always felt at peace when she was surrounded by it which was exactly why she was here most nights, with the view of the lake out in front of them, the garden surrounding and on the really good days, the star-filled sky above them.

She listened to the way he talked about his home town and it was in complete contrast to the way he talked about Paris, she could tell his childhood home was the place he attributed a lot of his good memories to and then those in Paris were tainted by the circumstances which led him there “Sounds beautiful” she responded with a small smile trying to picture it in her mind as she flipped through the book and fell on one of the paintings he had done inside, she showed it to him with a questioning look of her face as though to ask if it matched the place he described.

“So a country boy through and through then” she spoke softly and smiled, she could see that, he liked the quiet and nature, she was sure he would be happy just tending to crops all day long and looking after the animals, it sounded like a peaceful life “Something about you strikes me as liking the quiet, having time to think and just...process everything” she couldn’t say she was the biggest fan of the crowded nature of the city so she understood how he felt.

His question made her go quiet for a moment as she thought about it “It changes I think, it depends how I’m feeling...I tend to listen to music to match my mood, reflect the point I’m in at that moment” she nodded a few times “But if I had to choose I’d pick Bird by Kazi Jay” she laughed softly and smiled “You’ve probably never heard it before, I have this tendency to like songs no one has ever heard of” she smiled sheepishly and bit her lip as she thought of another thing to ask him “If you had to choose between dancing or singing, which would you choose?” she’s never seen him do either so she was curious to know.

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