sweet sorrow ━━ theodore nott

i. the aldworth library

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰!
act one, chapter one
" 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒅𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒉 𝒍𝒊𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒓𝒚 "

𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝟏𝟗𝟗𝟕

          𝑺𝑼𝑴𝑴𝑬𝑹 𝑺𝑰𝑻𝑺 𝑼𝑷𝑶𝑵 𝑨 𝑯𝑰𝑳𝑳 𝑰𝑵 𝑨𝑳𝑫𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑻𝑯. A hill that sogs when the rain falls, like a curtain dropping to reveal the inevitable Autumn season behind it. It's like dancing on a volcano ─ one wrong move, in the form of a bad weather day and the following days up until April will be just the same. But for now, that hill beneath Aldworth is illuminated by the newly radiant sun and sprinkled with the watercolour hues Spring left behind, and even as September looms, Aldworth is the brightly coloured bliss, a village can be in summer.

          Wyatt Buckley wonders if Autumn strikes as early as September first in other counties across England, as it does in Berkshire. Even if the weather report predicts a sunny day in early September, the sky is still speckled with clouds, and the sun is too shy to kindle the whole landscape. It's not quite "summer" from Wyatt's perspective. Technically, summer doesn't end until late September so the black and white calendar says, but, to Wyatt Buckley (an avid summer fan) in Aldworth, Berkshire, the first day of the ninth month feels like a bright red stop sign and the ripping of a page from a notebook.

          August is almost over, and the next time that Wyatt Buckley will be home in Aldworth village, rapid temperature drops, and frostbitten fingers will be delivered to her on a frozen platter. Weather doesn't count at school in Wyatt's eyes. Sure the snow is nice, but is she ever paying enough attention to care that much? It's Scotland ─ incredibly far from the equator, and rather frickin' cold. Autumn is like a fever dream. That's why she loves summer ─ brightly lit, a burst of colour, and warm enough temperatures to sleep with the window open. She doesn't want it to end.

          A chill grazed her skin, as Wyatt stared out of the window. She didn't mind it, even if it made the hairs on her arm stand up. Her trunk was already packed and resting at the foot of her bed, her knitted jumper of black and yellow poking through. She told herself to remind future Wyatt to tuck it back in at some point, but for now, she wasn't bothered.

          The sun was at eye level, far from setting, like a globed orb, easy on the eye. Wyatt likes to think she can see all of Aldworth from her window. All of the winding paths, and where they sprout out to different houses. The rows of bushes, full of life, that line the roads, which are never hosting any cars ever. Aldworth's got everything anyone would need. All that anyone would need. Not stuffy with pollution, nor with traffic. It's a tiny village, yet so bursting of life. The kind of place where everyone knows everyone, and no one has a problem with that. Besides one family, that is. But Wyatt chooses not to count the Nott family, since their mansion (Wyatt would like to reiterate the size of their house) stands right on the outskirts of town, with vast countryside surrounding it, the clouds low enough to conceal it completely.