¤ 7 ¤

514 8 2
                                    

"Bronwyn?"

"Ma'am?"

"Have you ever felt love?"

Laina and Bronwyn sat in Laina's room patching Bronwyn's worn out clothing, while Laina embroidered pretty flowers on several of her own and Bronwyn's clothing. How she managed to coerce Bronwyn into such a thing appalled the rest of the bunch, especially Emma, who had tried so long to get Bronwyn to do "girly" things with her. Now Emma enjoyed doing such things with Laina, who seemed to have a knack for just about anything.

"Well, I'm lovin' everyone in this house. I don't ever not." Her brawny fingers fumbled with the tiny, silver needle, unraveling the pink string and falling to the floor. Laina smiled, gently pushing hers through the fabric of a blue blouse. "Those boys do get on my nerves though."

"Define love."

Bronwyn stopped her needle, tilting her head in thought for a moment. "It's a feelin' of doin' anything for a person. You miss 'em, you want 'em. They're just your lil happy place, I'm guessin'."

Laina hummed with contentment, going back to singing songs that she always loved. Laina was always singing. Walking through the garden, cleaning in the house, even brushing her teeth at night; she was at least humming. But the other peculiars loved her sweet voice, and the songs she sang were from her time.

She began walking with Millard at nights, it was really the only time she saw him in between his fascinating obsession with the world he is stuck in.

"I'm really glad you've gotten him interested in something other than his stupid book. He spent three years on the damned pigs alone!" Emma said one day as they were returning from the garden with vegetables for dinner. "He has just invested all his time into it. It's incredible!"

Laina would ask him about little things he had found in a day, sometimes she would watch him as he wrote things about the outside world. She wondered about what triggered in his mind to be patient enough to learn about every little thing. It would be truly magical to be able to understand every little detail of our worlds, yet our lives are ever changing too fast to even understand the big picture.

As for her question to Bronwyn, it wasn't one anyone would ask the young lady. The peculiars had gotten to her random, yet brain-wracking questions. Asking strange things was a way for her to get to know her housemates, all while thinking about the same things from their eyes.

"Pools of sorrow, waves of joy, are drifting through my opened mind, possessing and caressing m- Laina! I've looked all over for you. I would have thought you'd be outside," Olive's voice interrupted her humming, her singing the exact same song. It seemed like every few days, Laina would have a certain song stuck in her head from her time. The peculiars then made it a game to learn the lyrics, having something new to hear. Laina, of course, knew about this. It made her happy, so she continued on with it.

"Are you needing something, lovely?" Laina asked as a smile made its way onto her face, snipping the last of the blue thread. Olive adjusted her tiara and dragged Claire in behind her.

"We were wondering if you could show us your makeup stuff. We don't have much, and Miss Peregrine said crayons will hurt." Olive beamed, messing with a strap on her weighted shoes as Claire nodded behind her.

"Well, I suppose this is my callin' to leave. Thank you, Miss Melaina, I'll be back for my items," Bronwyn smiled at the younger girls, packing her thread and needle into Laina's tin and folding up the pants she was working on.

Laina moved her own work to the side, packing it all up for the day. She had all the time in the world to finish. "Of course we can use makeup. It'll make you dolls look just like your dolls."

Olive clapped her hands and her knees made the attempt to jump in excitement. Emma never had a large collection of "pretty products," as Claire liked to call them. She had stuff like used foundation and rouge, but she was really just naturally beautiful. Laina had many things she had collected and bought throughout America, most of it for disguise and making herself look older.

Pulling out a plastic container filled with expired products that probably wouldn't be suitable for anyone's face, Laina tried out shades of foundation against the beaming, young girls skin.

As Laina laughed with the young girls, she wasn't aware of Millard who was watching from the doorway, trying to be as quiet as he could. He scanned her face as she concentrated, smiling at the smile she held as she worked with Claire, pinning her gorgeous, blonde curls to the side. It seemed that Laina was just talented at everything, the art pieces on her periwinkle walls speaking for her.

"Laina, do you like Millard?" Olive said out of the blue, making the red lipstick Laina was applying go up her cheek.

Laina's eyebrows scrunched as she reached for a towel with water, attempting to wipe off the mess. "Why, of course! He's a fine friend. Why? Do you not like our friend Millard?"

"No! I mean do you want to kiss Millard." Olive said, her and Claire giggling at what she was insinuating. Laina blushed madly, something she normally wouldn't get caught doing.

"Well, I, uh-Millard!" Laina exclaimed as she stood, watching the door shift as if someone were holding the handle.

"Laina, I-" Millard panicked at the door, surprised he was caught. Laina pushed her things aside and rushed out the door, flustered.

"Ooooo, you got caught," Claire chided, grinning at herself in the mirror. Millard grumbled and went to his room to put adequate clothing on, heading out the door when Miss Peregrine stopped him.

"Mr. Nullings! A word, please." She said, stepping in his way so he had no other choice than to be led into her study.

He huffed and complied, going to slump into a chair before her desk. His face was flaming with embarrassment and shame. He didn't say anything as she lit her pipe, taking two easy puffs before speaking.

"How are your studies, Millard?"

Millard thought for a moment, not exactly expecting such a normal question.

"Well, I didn't quite know how to move on from the unit of pigs, but I've found a good start in the bird patterns in the forest."

"The forest? That would make sense, it seems that you spend plenty of time in the forest to be studying the birds." Miss Peregrine said as she set her pipe down. "I must say, I am enthralled by your enthusiasm."

"Yes, I am quite enthused." Millard spoke happily, thinking that him seeming interested would get him out quicker. "I have found a disturbance in my works, so I am finding things slower, but I am persisting either way."

"And this leads me to tying this disturbance to Miss Melaina, of whom it seems you have gotten close with, am I correct?"

Millard sat without a response, giving Miss Peregrine her answer. She nodded and picked up her pipe once more. "She hasn't decided whether she would stay."

"But she told me-"

"People can say meaningless things, Millard. You haven't been able to see this here in our world, but not every word holds value." Miss Peregrine took a deep breath, not knowing his physical expression of when to stop. "We spoke of this not long ago. While she enjoys it here, you should know she is not one to be tethered anywhere."

"Well, maybe I could talk to her! Maybe we could come to an agreement, and she could stay." Millard tried to hopefully reason. Miss Peregrine simply shook her head and leaned forward to clasp her hands on her desk.

"Millard, I know you are fond of her. I know it hurts for people to leave, yet I cannot tell her she cannot. She decides her own fate in this world, or her world."

Millard simply leaned his head back on his chair. He knew these things to be true, yet he wanted to hold onto the fact that she wouldn't leave, just like the rest of them didn't. Maybe if he told her about Victor, she would be too scared to leave. If she only could see how dangerous the outside is.

But it was the world she knew and could thrive in. She could grow up and pursue something she loves doing, as she loves many things on this earth. She could have children and watch history unfold before her. While she was peculiar, she still could blend in in such an ever-changing world.

Iridescent ¤ Millard NullingsWhere stories live. Discover now