Thread: Southern Girl [ Ariamella & Reydan ]

RE Southern Girl Ariamella Reydan Lucy was left standing in the open doorway, too stunned to say anything as Virgil left the room. She was no longer 'Lucy' to him, but Lucille and Ma'am, names that symbolized the distance that had grown between them. No, he wasn't the same Virgil Abernathy at all. The 18 year-old boy from her memories, so warm and charming, had transformed into a stiff 23 year-old man who was as cold as the November weather outside. What happened to him? She tentatively placed one foot in front of the other, quietly shut the door to his office, and began to follow him through the house and to the back door. How dare he ignore her! How could he just walk away when there was so much to be said between them? Then she realized, as she watched his form traverse the garden, that there was nothing left to be said at all. He had a family now, and a wife, and as he had harshly stated within his office, he couldn't - and didn't - wait for a woman who had cast his affections aside. She watched him through the window, waited until he disappeared behind a hedge of gardenias, then retreated to her own quarters. Inside the comfort of her room, Lucy set herself to doing varying tasks in order to forget about her confrontation with Virgil. All proved to be equally useless, and in the end she could do nothing but to succumb to memories of Virginia, all of them leading back to the same scene that haunted her every day since that cold December morning of 1860... Because it's WRONG! He was screaming at her now, hands wildly gesturing about as he tried to make her understand. She shook her head, refusing to listen to him about slaves and morals, and more importantly, refusing to listen to him voice desires of possibly wanting to leave Virginia. Wet, angry tears slid down her cheeks, and she balled up her fists and stepped away when he tried to reach for her. To keep people as objects...Can't you see, Lucille? Why couldn't he see that slavery was a necessary way of life for plantation owners such as her family? His family? And if he felt so strongly of it, leaving wasn't the only choice. They could refuse the plantations... they could settle somewhere else, possibly in the city... But she didn't know, she just didn't know... He reached for her again, softly and gently this time, and she let him. Carefully, he turned one of her fists up and opened it, pressing something against the soft flesh. Lucy looked down for a brief moment to inspect the object, and fresh anger bubbled up to the surface. A locket? He had come to talk to her about running to the North, and all he was going to leave her with was a meaningless trinket? A bauble on a silver chain that was supposed to make her feel better? Her fist closed around the silver ornament, and in the most dramatic tone she could muster, she looked at him in the eyes and said in a deadly quiet voice, I hate you. I hate you, Virgil Abernathy! Go and leave! I never want to see you again! As if to affirm the words with action, she turned from him and hurled the locket over the short distance to the creek, and they both heard the 'plop' of necklace against the slow-moving water before she turned from him and ran without a glance back. Lucy's mind refocused to the present, and a wave a guilt washed over her. I hate you. She hadn't meant to say that, so long ago. Not really. She had been so young, and teasing and letting the boys chase her had been her game. She liked to keep them on their toes she liked to see how far she could push them before they left and she had to come back with the intent of starting the game all over again. And no other boy had liked to play as much as Virgil. In fact, over time, the teasing affection had become a way for her to show exactly how much she wanted and loved him. And it amazed her that every time she had pushed him away, he always came back. No matter how many times she annoyed him with the thought of other men, no matter how many times she had been angry or upset with him, he had always appeared to her with an apology on his lips and an easy smile on his face. But she had pushed him too far with her final words to him. Lucy remembered waking the next morning, expecting to see Virgil with flowers that he usually brought from her family's greenhouse when they had gotten into a large argument. Would they be roses? Carnations? Or maybe the large chrysanthemums? But waiting for him was a task that took from morning, to afternoon, and she had been so confused as to why he hadn't called upon her yet. It wasn't until two weeks later, when Mary Ann Abernathy showed up, Lucy learned that Virgil had done it. He had actually left... Left his family, her, and their future together. There had been talks of a late spring wedding, when the bluebonnets and other wildflowers were in bloom, but those plans were to never come to fruition. And Lucy had been so optimistic, so faithful, about Virgil's return. But as the days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months, and months turned to years, she found herself unable to wait any longer. After two years of misplaced hope, and one more year of finding a weakly-desired match, she was engaged to Samuel Collins, the son of another tobacco plantation owner. That marriage was more for the two families to combine their wealth and land, and while Samuel had the financial means necessary to support a family, he lacked all of Virgil Abernathy's natural charisma and charm, and Lucy often found herself cross with him at his refusal to take part in her girlish games. But through it all, she had still kept the small sliver of hope that she and Virgil would one day be reunited. She hadn't allowed herself to fully cry over the loss when he left, although it pained her that the last words she had ever said to him were an ugly, harsh curse that could never be taken back. But he was Virgil Abernathy, and he had to come back to her. He always did. It had been so easy to believe it to be true, and she had spent countless days at the Abernathy plantation, keeping his mother and younger siblings company. She couldn't remember how many times Mary Ann had apologized for the missed marriage ceremony, but still Lucy had painted a smile on her face and reassured his mother that he was never far away if they kept him in their hearts. And now, sitting on the bed of the guest room of the Abernathy house, she realized that perhaps Virgil Abernathy had not kept them in his heart at all. For the first time in five years, Lucy stretched herself out the violet sheets and buried her cheeks to one of the soft feather pillows. Underneath the teasing and arguing, there had been genuine love for Virgil. But all of that was gone now, and tears streaked her face as she wept softly into the silk material. Finally, she had gotten the closure that she had waited so patiently for, and the young woman finally mourned the loss of a friend and almost-lover. She wasn't aware of how long she had cuddled herself up in the bed, but when the tears ceased and her breathing returned to normal, she heard the door to the house open. Good, Camilla wouldn't have to ask questions about her tired state. Quickly, she splashed cool water onto tired eyes, re-powdered her face and wandered to meet her cousin. Camilla? Lucy asked, watching as her cousin sat in the parlor and leafed through list after list, design after design. Are you commissioning new furnishings? Yes. Oh... for which room? The ballroom. We're going to need it rather soon, and right now it's empty. Camilla paused and looked up. Where's Virgil? Lucy shrugged, darting her blue eyes away to look through the nearest window. I haven't the slightest clue, she murmured. If Virgil wanted to ignore her, she could play that game as well. And, as she recalled from their adolescence, she had always won.