Crossing the line

Plans

And when at last, they managed to pull apart, Tristan rested his forehead against hers and murmured.

— "I missed you"

Frances closed her eyes with a sigh; that admission felt much more intimate than anything he had ever told her. As if, now, she had changed status and was part of his world. To know that her longing was requited caused a huge wave of relief to quell her doubts.

— "I thought of you every single second since you left"

He nodded, his features set in worry lines.

— "I'm sorry. I needed to fix my situation before I could sort my feelings. I had no idea where I was going."

She understood, really, that he had refused to contact her until the mess of his life was settled. The hurt, though, would not be easily forgotten. So she tightened her hold upon his shoulders and buried her face in his neck. Tristan wavered on his branch and chuckled.

— "You seem more at ease here than on solid ground. It is the ice skating ?"

Frances considered his question, feeling the steady form of the branch below her toes, as if the plant itself supported her.

— "I was always at home in trees.", she said, then emerged from his neck to look him in the eye. "Actually, I think it's the other way around. After all, it you can pick cherries on the upper branches, you can balance on a blade digging in the ice"

Tristan pecked her lips, unable to resist, before his eyes roamed her face.

— "I always saw you as a fairy. I think I was right."

— "A fairy ?"

His finger caressed her cheekbone tenderly, a gesture that caused goosebumps to run through her spine. Or was it the beauty of his golden-flecked eyes ? How she could drown into them.

A sudden noise caused her to pull back and she hastily settled beside the trunk once more, spotting her father a few yards away. Blush crept up her cheeks and she bit her lip.

— "Let's not bring my parents into that equation just yet", she whispered.

Tristan chuckled, squeezing her hand before letting go.

— "I heartily agree to that, we'll have to answer questions soon enough"

She was glad he wasn't angry; she didn't want her parents to desecrate this blossoming relationship yet. She wanted him for herself, without questions, without justifications, before she had to tell the world she was going out with her former geography teacher.

Tristan didn't seem to mind – perhaps he also felt awkward. So he resumed the previous conversation as if nothing was amiss.

— "You look like a fairy, with your long hair and the way you dance. I could always picture you in an enchanted forest"

— "Well there I am, in my enchanted cheery tree. Did you know I revised my BAC here ?"

He lifted his eyes to the highest branches, wondering if they would keep his weight if he attempted to climb up. It was so easy, to picture Frances sleeping like a cat against the harsh, unwelcoming bark.

— "I'm not surprised. Think we should come down before night ?"

— "I don't know. It's pretty comfy here", she teased.

Tristan turned to watch her, mirth dancing in his eyes. His lips quirked up in that half smile she adored and she had to stub her toe against the trunk to prevent from jumping him. There was something else than desire dancing there, amusement, perhaps, or anticipation. His next words were detached, a little insecure, even, but vibrant all the same.