As soon as her eyes fell on him, she regretted this. It was stupid to come here, so unbelievably foolishâand to think she thought herself as intelligent, mature. And yet she couldnât control herself from clinging on to the past, to him, like a desperate little girl.Â
With a glance away and a tight purse of her lips, Eve bolstered her resolve. It was fine. Good, even. Confronting her lingering feelings like this, getting it into her head that she had to move on⊠She could get some closure here, by doing this.
She was well aware that she was lying to herself, but it worked nonetheless. She managed not to turn tail and run.
âHello, Bado,â she greeted with a hollow smile. His name on her tongue was sweet and sour and refreshing, cold lemonade on a summer evening. And, oh, his compliment, awkward as it wasâGoddess, it killed her. Every inch of her longed for more, ached for his adulation.
Not to mention ached for him.
â⊠Thank you.â Her smile was more real now, cheeks dusted a gentle pink. âYou look good, too.â Handsome. Stunning. Perfect. She could go on and on.
A silent breath escaped her lips as she stepped closer to his counter. Her hand slid back into her purse, retrieving the little wrapped package. She looked up at him, scarlet eyes wide. His build suggested him to be a man of stone, but the creases in his cheeks chiseled by countless smiles revealed otherwise. She had adored both his firm, strong arms around her, and his beaming smiles after telling yet another awful jokeâŠ
Eveâs gaze averted almost shamefully as she set the parcel on the counter with a soft, muted clink. âIt broke,â she announced flatly, though she didnât dare unfold the handkerchief herself. It was a necklace, one of her favorites, owing in part to where it had come from. She couldnât bear to give it up; it was truly beautiful.
Its memories were beautiful, too.
His ears twitched almost imperceptibly as something metallic within the parcel slithered against itself before making contact with the wooden counter.
Tungsten, maybe? Or... solid gold.Â
He looked from the carefully folded handkerchief to her face, to find her vibrant gaze turned away. Something in his chest felt tugged slightly out of place. His own fell back to the table, to the slender, lovely hand that lingered beside the parcel, despite seeming unwilling to touch it again. After letting another silent moment pass, the blacksmith slowly reached for it.
A watch chain? He wondered, as he turned it over in his hand. It must have belonged to her grand--
No. A thickness rose in his throat. No, it was too thin, and that was thinking too much about it.
â...A necklace?â He guessed instead, glancing briefly up at her while his fingers worked to reveal it. He almost wished he hadnât, as if saying it had made it so.
Three vivid, incarnadine sapphires glittered up at him, set in yellow gold and further complemented by two intricately chained strands of freshwater pearls-- one of which was severed, and seemed to be missing a link. He felt like he should have been more surprised to see it; perhaps all the hours he spent hunched over it at his dimly lit workbench had burned the necklace into his mind-- a permanent fixture he would never be rid of, no matter how much he imbibed.
All that work, and for what...? To see her smile? Make her laugh?
It didnât seem so unreasonable now, with her lighting up the other end of the counter simply by standing there.
âHeh,â he gave a laugh himself, more air than sound, a complicated emotion on his face. âYou still got this old thing?â