Arcadia [h.s.]

Chapter 22

Last warning: There will be depictions of self-harm in this story. Also, can we do 20 comments? <3

If a picture paints a thousand words, then why can't I paint you?

-

Arcadia

Lemons cannot always produce lemonade, not when you wait too long. Eventually, an area will soften due to elongation, moistening until mold will inevitably commence. It's all downhill from there.

All lemons, when coated in moldy fuzz—reminiscent of the dense moss on forest grounds— become too toxic to resolve.

When Noel's lemons rotted, she wrote poems.

She spent this morning doing that before she went to work. The poem, which she wrote after seeing a bird hit her window, went like this:

A sparrow does not look like a crow
but both can just as easily hit a window.
A window which reflected to the bird
an inviting tale
of expensive peaches,
behind the cellophane curtains,
and in between a table of the finest oak.
A sparrow will tell you to keep your head up.
A crow will tell you death is near.
Both will die in the process
for you to realize,
that the peaches mean nothing.

She cried for a few minutes after that because that often happened a few days before her period started. But she also began to feel sad. Except the sad part truly came before the poem itself.

Usually, when Noel begins to feel sad is when she starts to write melancholic poems. This wasn't to assume all poets were simply sad people, but sad people tended to write poetry.

She should stop feeding into it. It's probably just my period. She told herself.

When she got to work that morning, it was one of the very few days Noel didn't feel like being there. She had no interviews to work on today, which meant less anxiety, but she did have a staff meeting and some research to do, although she kind of didn't want to do any of it.

To make matters even worse, Damien was standing in the lunchroom just as she was about to grab herself a cup of coffee.

She stood by the door, her feet too stubborn to walk towards the Keurig machine. However, when she observed his soft features and kind eyes, she knew this wouldn't be as hard as her mind was making her think it was.

"Hey," Noel started quietly as Damien was pouring creamer into his mug.

He turned around instantly, surprised at her presence. His eyes widened, "oh. Uh... hey."

"I feel like we should stop being awkward with each other," she boldly stated even though her nerves were absolutely wrecked.

Damien, taken aback by her words, blinked in awe.

Noel sighed, "I know it's my fault—I'm stupid. I'm really stupid sometimes, you know? You're a cool dude who deserves someone that's... not that."

His body softened, and he gave her a warm smile, "I understand. It's probably just all bad timing for us," a chuckle followed and Noel did the same.