Thread: Southern Girl [ Ariamella & Reydan ]

RE Southern Girl Ariamella Reydan Two weeks had gone by since Lucy's first night, uneventful and almost agonizingly slow. She had purposely distanced herself from Virgil, preferring to spend time with Camilla or the two serving girls, not necessarily because she preferred their company, but because she couldn't bear Virgil's. Their encounter had left her confused, lonely, and curious, and more often than not she found herself thinking of his words. Husband and wife... I still harbour great affection for you deep in my heart! She thought of them, analyzed them, pushed them out of her mind only to re-analyzed them within the confines of her room He stepped into the room at her invitation, until he stood almost close enough to reach out and touch her. Lucy... his voice finally came, and the hands that brushed her hair froze in place at her name. Curiously her eyes watched as he began his apology, all too aware that the last time he'd managed to sneak in her room during the night, it had ended in a rush of passion. Then she listened, her blue eyes softening and hardening at the mention of their shared past, rolling through emotions she thought had been locked away for so long that they were no longer accessible. She did know that Thomas died at Gettysburg. After all, it had been her who had come to comfort Mary-Ann and the rest of his family after the news had hit their corner of Virginia... His family that still treated her as one of their own, despite her engagement to another man. They all knew, somehow, that she still belonged to Virgil in spite of his leaving. Southern culture was funny like that. Some might have thought them harsh and uncaring because of their use of slavery, but the ties of family were respected and near unbreakable. By the time he was finished, she had moved from the bureau to the foot of her bed, looking away from him. It wasn't that she was upset with him or that she found his apology inadequate, but the simple reason that the wave of emotions that rolled through her was almost too much. She wanted to laugh, smile, scream at him and cry all at once she wanted to run to him, cling to his strong arms, bury her head in his neck and breath in his scent she wanted to strike him across the cheek for the lost years. And still, she wanted to apologize to him for pushing him away so many years ago. But whatever words she had to say refused to come out, buried beneath the pain, hurt and love she still felt for him. It's late, Mr. Abernathy, and I wish to sleep, came Lucy's quiet, terse reply when Virgil had fallen silent. She heard him start to walk away, and because she couldn't resist, she turned her head to watch his retreating form, her blue eyes watering with unshed tears. Virgil! ...Goodnight, she finally whispered as he was about to leave, knowing that he would hear the forgiveness in the one word. Then, emotionally exhausted, she laid her head down on the pillow and wept. The following days were the most difficult, and she was unsure of what to do about the matter. A part of her wanted to march straight into Virgil's room the next morning and demand an explanation for the past five years, but at the risk of Camilla learning of their past, she hadn't done so. Or maybe it was because she didn't want him to tell her what she feared the most that he no longer believed her worthy of his affection after what she had said to him, and subsequently ceased loving her. But if that was the case, why had he offered her his friendship? And mentioned familiar words that, he knew, would mean something to the both of them? It was for these reasons that Lucy found it best to avoid him, to avoid the confrontation and any possible mention of what had transpired that night. She made sure to she spent her time busying herself with anything and everything, if just to keep her mind occupied and off of Virgil. Some days she would help Camilla choose decorations for the home, then wrap herself in a blanket and read in the gardens despite the winter cold settling in. Other days were spent tidying up the house and - when she yearned for home - whipping up a traditional southern desert or snack, much to Camilla's displeasure. And while she convinced herself that she made them because she missed Virginia, she knew in her heart that she had made them for someone else.... It wasn't until those two weeks had passed that Lucy suddenly found herself tired of the repetitive day-to-day actions. And on the third Saturday morning, when Camilla had gone out to attend to errands as she always did, she sought out Virgil for the first time. Mr. Abernathy, she started, appearing in the open doorway to his study at noon cheeks pink and flushed from her time reading in the garden. There were so many things she wanted to say, all of which seemed much too familiar and inappropriate for a first conversation, so she relayed what she wanted to, the only way she knew how when it came to Virgil Abernathy. Mr. Abernathy, while I am delighted that you have opened your home to me, I find that I am bored . Surely there's something in the whole of New York that may relieve me of my predicament? A slight frown turned down her lips, reminiscent of her pouting, adolescent self, though her eyes were warm and tone mild.