I shift my basket to my other arm when my eyes catch on a flash of golden brown at the bottom of the basket. I peer insideand staring up at me are two of the sugary, fried dough buns I saw when I entered the market.
What the fuck?
I look up and scan the market trying to see where they could have come from. The man that bumped into me is my only thought, but he appears to be long gone.
Well, when life gives you lemons and all that…I think to myself as I retrieve one of the sticky sweet rolls and bite into it. The moan I nearly let out as the honeyed bread hits my tongue should not be a sound made in public. After shoving the rest of the roll into my mouth, I start off in the direction of the vendor I’m in search of. Luckily for me, he’s always in the same place and, unsurprisingly, he has quite the supply, as he does every year around Samhain and Beltane.
“Why hello, Miss Olivia. Has Fleur lost the bells from Beltane again?” Henry, the stall owner asks with a smirk.
“You know how it goes,” I offer him an exaggerated eye roll that conveys my feelings on the matter. I’m always back here every six months like clockwork to replace the ones from before. “You’d think she would have figured out a better spot to store them since we use them twice a year, but apparently not,” I huff. “Could I get five more?”
I pay Henry for the bells with a quick thanks before hustling off through the market the way I came. I pass the jeweler’s stall again and see that the necklace I was admiring is gone. I probably couldn’t have afforded it anyway so it’s best that I’m no longer tempted. My gaze sweeps the square as I weave through the people and stalls, but I don’t see the dark figure I try to convince myself that I’mnotlooking for. But really, I should thank him for my breakfast.
I’m backat the cottage in no time, dropping the bells off to a grateful Fleur before making my way to the next cottage over, where Thomas lives.
Thomas has been my best friend—my only friend really—since he moved into the village nearly a decade ago. He’s the one person I can count on for anything.
It takes several beats after I’ve knocked for him to finally open the door. His chin length chestnut brown hair still mussed from sleep and his hazel eyes have a groggy haze to them. He’s only clothed from the waist down in a pair of trousers that hang low on his hips. I would be a fool fornotnoticing all the curves and ridges of his muscles. I allow myself the opportunity to stare and take it all in. Not because I haven’t seen it before—I definitely have in our years of friendship—but because it’s rare I get the chance to just… look.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of you on my doorstep so early?” he asks with a sly grin. He absolutely noticed me staring at his body and I roll my eyes at his confidence. He’s the brother I never had. I don’t have any interest inhim—at least not anymore—but more so admiring a fit body of the opposite sex. And he really is the best looking of the men in our village. He’s almosttoopretty. It’s criminal really.
“It’s nearly mid-day! It’s not my fault you choose to spend the evenings at the tavern and sleep the day away,” I retort back, knowing full well I would’ve joined him at the tavern if Aunt Fleur wasn’t such a worrywart.
Tom is a regular patron at our local tavern. And more often than not he’s taking a different woman home each night. I’ve only managed to sneak out around Fleur a handful of times tojoin him, allowing me to have a couple of secret trysts of my own, but nothing so scandalous as Tom’s dalliances. It’s been ages since I was last able to get out past her. She caught me sneaking back in on my last evening out and really tightened up her security. And by security, I mean that she sits up until late into the evening with hawk-like hearing. She can hear the smallest footfall or creak of a floorboard. Even when I don’t make a single audible sound, shestillsomehow hears me, and I have no idea how she does it. I swear she’s a witch and spelled my room to alert her to my movements. Or maybe she has little mice that spy on me and report back to their master.
“Would you like to come in?” Tom asks, shaking me out of my thoughts of taverns and men.
“Only for a moment. Fleur instructed me to come and collect you so you can aid me in gathering supplies for the feast tomorrow like the great friend that you are.” I hold the empty basket up in front of his face and smirk at him. He hates when Aunt Fleur assigns him tasks, but he does them anyway, albeit begrudgingly, but still.
He rolls his eyes. “Of course she did. Give me a moment to make myself decent and we can be on our way.”
Tom turns to head back into his cottage and I follow, shutting the door behind me as I enter. “You can hang out. Do whatever. I’ll only be a few minutes,” Tom says before disappearing into his bedroom.
I cut through the living room until I reach the high-backed bench seat and plop down. I let my eyes wander through the room and attached kitchen while I settle in. It hasn’t changed in the slightest since the last time I was over. The only thing new is the pile of unwashed dishes beside the washbasin.
What a surprise.
Tom is the embodiment of all men. Leaving a tornado of mess in his wake. I can only imagine the mess of dirty clothesin need of washing that are scattered around his bedroom. How does he have anything clean to wear if his whole closet is cluttering the floor?
“Alright Livi, let’s get this over with so I can climb back into bed,” Tom announces as he waltzes out from his room in a charcoal gray tunic and his long hair tied back at the nape of his neck.
I scoff. “Like you’ll climb back into bed now that I’ve woken you up.”
“Who knows, maybe you’ll wear me out foraging,” he says with a wink and a cheeky smile before ushering me out the door ahead of him.
We walk in a comfortable silence for a few minutes before I finally speak.
“Do you ever think about getting out of here?” I ask, trying to keep my voice light, but this is a thought that’s been weighing on me for months and I don’t have anyone else to speak to about it. Fleur would absolutely lose it if I told her I wanted to leave.
Tom slows his steps and looks at me out of the corner of his eyes. “What do you mean?”
I let out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t even know what I mean.” I shrug and let my hands fall loose at my sides. “I guess I’m just… bored? I’ve spent all two decades of my life in Willowbrook and I’ve never seen anything besides it. There’s so much more to the world than this village. I want to see the ocean, meet new people that aren’t traveling merchants at the market. I want to have some grand adventure. The kinds I find in books.” I twirl the ring on my left index finger, a nervous habit I picked up since Fleur passed the heirloom down to me as a child. The metal slides effortlessly as I spin it. The intertwining vines made of gold cradle a ruby gemstone like the buds of a rose.
He chuckles. “Those are fiction, Livi.”
“I know that!” I say, exasperated. “I only mean, I want to seemore. I can’t live and die in this village. Helping Fleur with her poultices and ointments is fine and all but it’s so monotonous.”
“I guess sometimes I think about leaving, but I enjoy the quiet. The peace of life.” He’s quiet for a moment before he turns his head to me and smirks, bumping his shoulder into mine. “Plus, you’re here. Why would I ever want to leave?”
