Aster

Chapter Four: In This Corner Of The World.

Aster

     The rain was her favorite. It reminded Aster of spring, where the smell of it lingered in the air sweeter than any sugar or cream. She liked feeling the vibrations of droplets against her umbrella, the way she shivered when the water was cold. Rainy days were reminiscent of fated encounters. So, when it began to pour, the girl thought, "What a wonderfully perfect day," And when she met him later that evening, she thought, "What a wonderfully perfect stranger."

     She watched the way his eyes roamed, how studious his expression was, like every gesture was turning the page of a book. He was an articulately observant man. She pretended to busy herself, cleaning a few coffee cups in preparation for the next day, but his eyes were heavy on her shoulders as he read her. Aster wondered what he was thinking, and if his heart skipped a beat when their eyes met, just like hers did. 

     Attentively, she approached him when the man grabbed her notepad, offering a single menu for him to look over the moment he appeared ready. For Aster, she understood that he had a lot to take in. Something told her that he must have felt out of place, but took time to come visit anyways. In that sense, she understood he must also be somewhat brave. The look of uncertainty behind his carefully guarded eyes forced a single finger forward when she pointed out the mocha latte. It was sweet, but simple, and wouldn't add to the overwhelming thoughts was moving through his mind.

     That same heart flipped when his eyes, a richer brown than any coffee she could brew, poured onto her with a warmth which dripped straight into her gut. His smile accentuated cavernous lines on his cheeks, emphasizing the sharpness in his features that were so naturally masculine; he was oblivious to his own charms. She wondered what it sounded like when he laughed, and admired the subtle shaking of his shoulders whenever he found something funny. So, when this lovely person wrote, "Jacob," the girl thought, "What a wonderfully perfect acquaintance to make on such a wonderfully perfect day."

     Though, when she stared forward through the window, the sun gleamed overhead with a brightness alarmingly different to yesterday's rain. Her feet shifted inwards in a state of shock that plastered over Aster's face when she halted in the doorway behind her father, Bastien. He was introducing her, but her gaze was fixated on the man sitting behind the desk. Her movements looked robotic and hesitant when she slowly approached, taking a seat across from Jacob. In this setting, he was a completely different person. He looked rough and calloused, with a harsh glare in his otherwise brown gaze. They looked unfamiliar when they fell upon her, dark and disconnected.

     He intimidated Aster.

     The light fabric of her purple dress was pressed tightly between fingertips as she desperately clung onto the hem above her knees. The girl wanted to cry. Tearful blue eyes watched nervously between the signing of her sister, and the man sitting on the other side of the desk. What was he thinking? She couldn't tell, not like the night prior. His face was expressionless, or livid, there didn't seem to be any in-between; which felt like such a stark contrast to their first encounter. It was as though she were in the presence of two very different people, and she wasn't particularly fond of this person.