The Old Tuck Shop

FORTY-TWO

"Poppy, is everything alright?" I asked, but she didn't say a word. She just stood there. Shivering. Trembling. Biting her lip, causing it to bleed, and scab over. Tears were running down her eyes. With no hesitation, I grabbed her hand and pulled her inside from the cold. I removed her jacket and wrapped a blanket around her. She didn't speak through any of it. She was completely quiet.

Her face stayed stuck in the same, lifeless expression as if frozen in time. Her eyes that once gave me so much joy, now only cursed me with sorrow. I wiped the dry mascara from her eyes, rubbed the blood from her lip, and patted her cheeks, trying to get any words out of her. But she said nothing. She just sat there, with her mouth agape, as if she had seen a ghost.

I put the kettle on and made her a cup of tea to warm her up. As I passed the mug, I felt how cold her hands were, in comparison to mine. I set down the mug on the bedside table, cupped her hands, and blew on them.

"It's no use," Poppy said, her voice expressionless. "I've always had cold hands." I looked up at her in disbelief. In a way, I was glad she was finally talking, but now I was even more worried about her.

"Poppy, what happened?" I asked, rubbing my hand against her back, trying to comfort her the best way I knew. I was always awkward when people cried and I'd usually freeze up in these kinds of situations.

"What always happens," she answered. Her face was still hard as a rock, and her voice was monotonous and flat.

"What do you mean?" I asked, my voice cracking. I was afraid of what she might say.

"I caught feelings for someone. And everybody disapproved." She blinked for a long time, as if her eyelids were the barriers, stopping her tears from gushing out. She took a deep breath, and everything released. Water flooded from her eyes, and her cheeks started to burn. She tried to speak, but everything came out as a squeak, rather than words. Her lip trembled. It vibrated. I couldn't deal with it any longer. I didn't want to see her hurting. I wrapped my arms around her tightly and pushed her head under my chin.

I gently ran my hands through her tangled hair and pressed my hands on the back of her neck; the only warm part of her body. I felt her boiling hot tears rub onto my neck, and down my chest. It hurt me. It killed me to see her like this. Every time she tried to speak, I stopped her and pushed her deeper into my chest. Hearing her. Like that. It made me die inside.

I could feel her heartbeat against mine; it was slower than any other time I've felt it. I felt her hands. They were freezing as if frozen solid. I intertwined my fingers between hers so tightly I thought they might break. I rubbed the palm of my hand down her arm, trying to emit some sort of heat. She was freezing.

I unzipped my backpack and grabbed my old blanket. I hadn't thought about it for days, and I forgot I even had it. "What's that?" Poppy asked, wiping the fog from her eyes, exposing her emerald irises.

"I got it when I was very small. It used to help me through my darkest nights... I think you need it more than me," I replied, wrapping it around her. She looked like a cocoon.

"Who gave it to you?" she sniffled, nestling into it.

I hesitated, "my...um...my dad gave it to me for my birthday..."

"Oh, I'm sorry," she sighed, "I shouldn't have asked..."

"Oh no, it's fine," I reassured, "nothing bad happened with him. I just haven't seen him in years, that's all."

"The problem is with your mother?" she asked.

"Basically," I replied.

"You don't deserve it," she yawned, snuggling into the corner of my bed like a fetus.

I half-smiled and ran my hands through her hair. "I'm going to ring call and tell him that you're here...and probably going to stay the night judging on the rain..."

"My Mum knows I'm here..." she slurred.

"I'll just ring him incase," I said, walking out into the living room.

I came back into my bedroom to find Poppy wrapped in my blanket, under the quilt of the bed, tucked into the corner. I wouldn't have noticed her if it hadn't been for her miles of hair. I sat on the side of the bed and looked at her. She was so peaceful. I didn't want to disturb her. I grabbed the cushions from the living room, and a spare quilt from the airing cupboard, and made myself a bed on the floor next to her. I laid down and tried to fall asleep, but my brain wouldn't let me. I kept thinking about what had happened to her.

"Finn?" Poppy muttered. Her voice was soft, almost fragile. Like a glass that could break any minute.

"Mhm," I replied. I looked up and spotted her arm leaning over the edge of the bed. Without thinking, I held it and ran my fingers up and down her palm.

"Can you come and lie by me," she said after a moment of silence. After some hesitation, I got up and crawled under the sheets next to her. She nestled herself close to me and I allowed her.

My heartbeat fast. The butterflies in my stomach went crazy. Sweat on my palms started to appear. I took a deep breath and turned towards Poppy. She was facing the wall. I swept the wet hair away from her face, and laid my hand on her temple, brushing my thumb up and down. She placed her hand on top of mine and then kissed it. But this time, I felt relieved. It was genuine.

She turned towards me and tried to pull the best smile she could. Despite the blotchiness of her cheeks, she still looked beautiful. She looked down, as if able to hear my thoughts. I grabbed her hand and traced my fingers down it. She giggled. It tickled her.

I brushed a strand of hair away from her face and stared at her. How lucky I was to have found her. To have her to feel the same way as me.

"You are so beautiful," I muttered, and she rolled her eyes.

"Shut up," she said, jokingly.

"No, I'm serious. You are so beautiful right now," I repeated, and her eyes widened.

"No need to announce it to the whole world. Calm down," she chuckled.

"I don't want to calm down. I want the whole damn... horrible, wonderful... fucking crazy world to know that you are beautiful. Why can't you see that?" I said, rubbing my hand against her face.

She stared deeply into my eyes.

"I want the world to know that I love you," I said. With no hesitation.

She stared at me, bit her lip, then smiled.

"I love you too, Finley," she said, before leaning in closer, and pressing her lips against mine. It was magnificent.