Passing stranger! You do not know how longingly I look upon you,
You must be he I was seeking, or she I was seeking, (it comes to me, as of a dream,)
I have somewhere surely lived a life of joy with you. . .
TO A STRANGER / WALT WHITMAN
CHRISTMAS EVE PARTY: PART II
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MARGARET's feet stood glued to the ground, she could hear the pounding of her heart in her ears as her arms remained glued around her body. The tall figure that emerged from the inside of the mansion approached her, followed by another one behind them. Margaret managed a smile as her eyes landed on Oliver's straight face that held no emotion whatsoever. Behind him was his friend. George, was it? She tried ro remember as the blonde cut her thoughts off with a furrow of his eyebrows and a question. "Were you crying?" he asked lowly, worriedly placing a hand on her freezing cold arm. Suddenly, she found herself unable to speak.
"Believe me, I've been thinking about crying, too." George added, not letting her answer as he moved to stand in front of her, a sympathetic look on his face as he stared down at her. Oliver sent him a glare, "Mate." he raised an eyebrow, "What?" George defended, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Well you go on and spend an hour talking to Josie Pye, then we'll see how long you'd last!" the dark haired boy said, causing the blonde boy to roll his eyes at him. "This is not the time. Can't you see she's upset?" Oliver nudged his head towards Margaret, as George sighed before placing a hand on her shoulder.
"You alright?" George asked as Margaret nodded. "Did someone tell you something? Just say it, whoever it is, me and my brethren Ollie here will beat their arses!" he asked again as Margaret let out a small laugh, her breath visible as it appeared visible in the air. She watched as Oliver furrowed his eyebrows at what George just called him, turning his head towards the dark haired boy slowly. "What?" George asked, "You didn't take those fencing classes for nothing!" he exclaimed, causing the blonde to shake his head. Oliver turned towards Margaret, blue eyes meeting hers. "Sorry 'bout him, he's just hyperactive." he grinned as George punched his shoulder.
"Am not! Besides, this is not about me," he explained, finally turning to face Margaret as she couldn't help but smile at the two. They seemed like really good friends. Almost reminded her of herself and Jerry. "I'm fine, honestly." she explained, "I just needed some air." she hugged herself tighter as Oliver dropped his hand from her arm. "You two should probably head in. It is your party, after all." she noted as George waved her off.
"Please, I'd rather freeze to death than go back inside. I'll leave Toddy to bare Josie's wrath for a little while." George said as Margaret sucked in a breath, feeling sorry for poor Todd. "Besides, what kind of insensitive hosts would we be if we left the main guest outside to cry on her own?" he bluntly continued as Margaret raised an eyebrow. Oliver slapped his hand over his face, running it down before crossing his hands in front of his chest. "You seriously have no filter." the blonde teen said, but his friend brushed it off. Margaret wanted to ask what he meant by main guest, but the blabbering boy continued on doing what he was best at; blabbering.
