1.1 | daunting medleys

thirty-nine | a boy with a love for roses

Tabitha was very frustrated.

Somehow she hadn't thought her apology plan all the way through, because she had nowhere to get whatever she'd needed before she'd be late for school. Roses were even more difficult, curse Oliver and his beautiful grey eyes, and his charming smile, and his big heart. There was only one option at the point she'd found herself in, so with a fast beating heart, and red hot cheeks, she walked down the street to Mrs Clark's house, and knocked gingerly on the door, hoping no one she knew would see her.

The elderly woman stepped out, smelling like patchouli and roses. Perfect. "Morning, Mrs Clark." Tabitha said, smiling softly. The older woman gave her a grin, crows feet gathering at her eyes. She wore an apron and her gloves had clumps of dirt on it.

"Morning dear. How are you doing this fine morning?"

Shuffling on her feet, she replied. "I'm very well. Thank you. I just wanted to ask you for something."

The older woman hobbled out of the way, and opened the door wider for Tabitha to come in. "Well come in. I reckon you wouldn't want to stand in the cold. You look really nervous hun, want some tea? I don't bite. Barney does, sometimes but I don't." Tabitha giggled awkwardly, but then burst into really loud chuckles. Her blue eyes were cloudy, yet so full of happiness, and somehow Tabitha felt her request wouldn't be too weird or too extravagant for the older woman to fulfill.

The interior of her home was very homey, the walls were yellow and pictures of her grandchildren covered every inch of the walls. Tabitha could hear the low distinct chatter from a television when she'd walked, and she peered in to see Mr Clark reclined on his usual seat while watching the morning news.

"Morning Mr Clark." She greeted.

His greying hair was in silvery in the light, and he smiled when he turned to look at her. "Tabitha? It's been a while, how are you dear?"

"I'm very well. Thank you."

He nodded, and wiped his glasses. "It's been a while, I thought you had forgotten about us."

Tabitha laughed, through her guilt at ignoring her sweet neighbours, and tugged on her sleeve. "I would never. I've just been busy with school and such so I hadn't had time to visit but I'll start visiting more often, so you both will be sick of me."

Mrs Clark hobbled from the kitchen and handed her a fresh cup of tea. Lemon. "We would never, dear. What was it you wanted to ask?"

She inhaled, and exhaled. Then her palms got warm, that might have just been the tea, and warmth crawled up her cheeks. "I wanted to ask if you would please give me a rose from your garden?" She asked quickly, avoiding the older woman's eyes.

Tabitha heard nothing at first, then a chuckle and a low giggle. "Of course dear, you didn't have to be so nervous. You could've just asked. Now, who's the rose for? Is there a new love interest perhaps?" Her cheeks couldn't have been more hotter, she coughed slowly into her sleeve and shook her head. Oliver wouldn't be classified as a love interest, he was far too ethereal and otherworldly for people like her to associate with romantically.

"No. Just a friend. I'm apologizing to him with a rose, they are his favorites actually."

Mrs Clark's happiness couldn't have been clearer. "A boy with a love for roses. You've got yourself a catch there."

"No. No. He isn't for me to catch. He is just a friend."

The elderly woman walked to Tabitha, and pinched her burning cheeks. "Mhm, but why are you blushing dear? It's alright." She patted her head, and Tabitha thought she understand that her and Oliver weren't an item, but then Mrs Clark continued. "I don't understand young love anyway. Come with me to the garden, so you can pick a rose for your lover."