𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞

Escapade

Florence broke the surface, already frantically shoving her dress down at her sides. It had bloomed like a flower as she jumped into the water. Clair eyes her delightfully, amused at antics. Skimming her eyes along the pool, resting them on Clair finally, she dove in towards him.

Feeling the unnatural weight of her dress behind her caught her off guard for only a moment. The water must've been spring fed, it was icy cold, and smooth like glass. Finally, she popped her head up in front of Clair. He laughed pleasantly, a sound like wind chimes, at her sopping wet hair and droplet dusted cheeks. Florence only let him have the pleasure of observing her for a moment before she dove back under.

Now, she swam to the bottom of the pool. Feeling the silky sand between her fingers. Returning to the surface, she found Clair poised on a rock near the edge of the water. He shook his head side to side, like a puppy, the water leaping of his lock in all directions.

"Clair, how did you find this?" She gazed upwards at him.

"I thought I saw glint of water through the trees as we drove past, I was only confirming my suspicions." He explained nonchalantly. 

"But I've lived here my entire life and never noticed." Florence noted, a sort of dismal tone twinging her words. 

"You just aren't as observant as me I suppose, my dear Florence." Clair responded, a smirk widening upon his damp face. 

"I am too!" Florence countered.

"I've noticed your hair. The way it isn't actually all blonde as one would describe it. It's golden, and it glints in the sunlight. But there is also darker locks hidden beneath all the gold, woven like some ornate tapestry," Florence rushed out. 

"And your eyes, they're not green. They're a sun bleached hazel, and your eyelashes. They're dark and full, the seem to bounce when you blink. Don't you see, I've observed all there is to you, it seems, Clairence." She finished indignantly, relieved to have voiced her feelings towards him, but also at the fact that he looked surprised.

It didn't seem like everyday you could one-up Clairence Thompson when it came to sarcasm. Water streaming from his hair into his lovely eyes, he sauntered towards the edge and gave her a warning look. Almost as if he were thinking that nobody ever caught him off guard, not like she had. Without another word Clair jumped off the boulder and into the air. Rearing back and covering her face from the splash, Florence laughed. Clair resurfaced directly in front of her, so close she could spot the droplets clinging to his eyelashes. He moved his hands underwater so they came to rest on her hips. Clair proceeded to lean in agonizingly slow, he hovered his mouth above her lips.

Only to say, "We really should get back now." In a devious tone, like he completely understood what he was doing to her.

Florence let out a small gasp, running her tongue along her lower lip. She reluctantly followed after him as he pulled himself out onto the cold boulders. Florence denied his extended hand with a swift flick of her wrist. Eventually, she managed to pull herself up over the ledge, Clair's eyes like fire on her back, waiting until she gave in and accepted his hand. Florence stood, her soaking wet dress clinging, beaming at him.

Clair only laughed and began traipsing back towards the path. The walk back was pleasant, although Florence occasionally began nodding off, resting her head on Clair's shoulder as the walked. His eyes widened each time she pressed against him, amazed at her fascination with him. Upon arriving back at the estate, Clair helped Florence wring out her dress on the steps in order to not leave evidence of their escapade. She clamped her hand over mouth to stifle a sleepy laugh as they did so. Then they quietly crept through the halls, parting ways at last.