#mitchell radner

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You’ve been in The Valley for a week now and there are still many boxes to unpack. Despite that mess, your apartment looks decently put together for now: sofa, coffee table, television set on the floor, a few framed photos, and what little kitchen utensils you have. The bedroom has a large mattress on the floor, a desk where your laptop and books sit, and some plants in pots and some hanging from the wall in terrariums. It reminds you of a pinterest board for student dorms, minus the fairy lights and Polaroid pictures (it’s too early to even think of decorations like that).

Your neighbors came to help you out of the blue, carrying boxes and asking you all kinds of questions; at one point a few ladies offered to help open the boxes, but you quickly declined. You’re not used to such consideration from neighbors. The city you’re from only had loud obnoxious folk who’d rather watch you struggle with groceries and laundry than offer assistance. Then there was all the conversation, as if they would actually remember anything you said — which could be true, but that’s just thinking on small-town stereotypes.

It was when you were saying goodbyes to the last loiterer that things began to click.

“You shouldn’t go out at night.”

“Why?”

A pretty older lady with her brunette hair tied in a loose bun, Mrs. Edlor leaned in to better whisper from the doorframe “It hasn’t been safe for a few months now. Murder is afoot in The Valley.”

“Murder? I didn’t hear anything from the landlord.” You had done some reading before sending in your application, and the landlord seemed nice enough. Nothing about killings popped up online.

“It’s been covered up, the local police keep saying they have it under control, but there’s no end to the — !”

“Lorraine! The damned dog got out again!” That was when you first saw Mr. Edlor with his stern face. Mrs. Edlor had sighed and shook her head.

“Sorry about that, deary. I best be off now, but remember: don’t be out after dark!” And off the gossipy lady went, leaving you confused and concerned.

Now you sit in the town park where children laugh and yell as they climb all over the playground. You sit not far off, having laid a blanket down so the grass doesn't agitate your bare legs and no bugs walk over you. Back against a large tree, you read your recent buy from the bookstore intermittently with your wandering eyes.

It’s hard to focus, not because of the commotion a few feet away, but because the line of trees that separate the woodland area from civilization is close by. You can’t help wondering if there’s someone amongst the tree trunks eying everything; or the possibility a bear might stagger through like Yogi looking for food.

Logically you should just get up and continue your book at a coffee shop or even home, but it’s a nice warm day, and you don’t want to be cooped up more than you already have been. Setting up your new home has been more of a hassle than expected, making you regret not taking more of the offers of help…But then you remember you rather enjoy your privacy. And the shade from the large branches towering over you is nice, creating a calming song when a breeze passes by. It’s far nicer than the loud, bustling city you come from where exhaust contaminates the air and people scream at the top of their lungs to be heard.

That was why you came all this way to The Valley. You could only handle so much before you decided enough was enough and your overrated apartment complex demanded more rent than initially stated. You hate landlords, you despise the city being looked on as something far nicer than is, and you want to sue for the breach in your contract. You left it alone though, not wanting to stay any longer for more reasons than just rent — needing to leave before you threw fists and were arrested for public a disturbance. That would have made it more difficult finding a new place to live. At least your new landlord seems kind, much older and gentle voiced despite his knowledge and sharing of a murderer

You turn the page on your book, sliding your thumb between the pages to keep the from being blown by the wind. That’s when you realize footsteps are nearby. Whoever it was, you’re only aware of their presence when they take the final few steps near you. You were so engrossed in thought and the book, you scarcely heard the loud crunching of twigs, rocks, and grass under their shoes before they stand at the boundary of your little blanket.

“Hey there.”

You look up, squinting under the sun’s rays and only seeing the shadow of a face and silhouette of voluminous hair. “Hi.”

“I’m sorry to intrude, but I couldn't help but notice your book.”

And wasn’t that the cheesiest way to meet someone. You’ve heard this one before, but you don’t mind indulging him. “Yeah, just got it at the bookstore.”

“Bound for Glory?”

“Yup, really nice place with a lot of nice books.” Far better than the one back in the city where the books were all new and heavily priced. There’s only one other place in The Valley you’ve noticed that sells books, yet they seemed more focused on selling art supplies than anything.

“Thought so — I actually saw that book a week ago.”

“Oh, did you want it?”

“Yeah, but I guess I should have bought it back then.”

“Sucks for you, huh? Didn’t think anyone else would take it?”

He chuckles, then crouches down so the sun is no longer back-lighting him and casting him in darkness. You see the reason for his head’s silhouette is because of the heap of blond hair that nears wavy to a curl, but that isn’t what has you in awe. What catches your attention is without a doubt what everyone notices first: he has the brightest and sharpest blue eyes you’ve ever seen. They’re shaped like what Elves in fairy tales are pictured, and they squint in the most impish way with his smile.

“Well, I’m kind of the stargazing enthusiast here, so I really didn’t think of having competition.”

He sounds like he isn’t upset like some other people may be, and that helps keep the air between you two casual. “Hey, I like stargazing too — are you the town’s professional gazer?”

“Actually, yes, I am, even if I have co-workers who do the same work.” He reaches out a hand for you to take. “Name’s Mitchell, and I work at the observatory.”

This man — with a Cheshire grin, crouching down on the soles of his neat sneakers, and blue eyes shining even under the shade of your tree — really seems too nice. But maybe you’re just not used to guys like that. You don’t want to make the same mistake as last time (a major reason why you wanted out of the city), so you don’t return his smile as you tell him your name and go in to shake his hand. Firm, wide, and rough like he does more than just stargaze. His palm engulfs yours’ and gives a small shake before slipping away, leaving your skin to feel a cold breeze wash over your palm.

“Lovely name.” He rests his palms between his bent knees, letting his fingers fall there.

“Thanks, you have a nice name too. Not very common these days.”

“Yeah, I got lucky I guess.” He chuckles, and you can’t help but join him. In the next moment he looks down to the book in your lap. “Do you like it?”

Your eyes fall to the book as well, looking over the words but not comprehending what they say. “It’s really wonderful with some of the best sketches of the sky and photos of telescopes….Wait.” You meet his blue eyes, raising a brow in question.

“If you work at the observatory, why would you want this book? It’s for amateurs.” That was the reason why you got it, it was a easy read and like you said: it had some really good drawings and photos of telescopes and the stars.

“I know, that's why I wanted to grab it.” He gestured to the blanket with an upward palm and inclines his head to you.

“Oh, go ahead.” You scoot over to give him space. It doesn’t really matter though, because you’ll still be close enough to feel his body right by your hip.

Mitchell drops forward on his knees, then grunts as he takes a step forward on them and maneuvers to sit beside you. “I had plans for it.”

You fold the corner of the open page and close the book. “Would it be too personal to ask what those plans are?”

“No, though I may be a bit embarrassed.” He grins and looks away — gaze settling ahead to the children playing on the playground. You notice how his eyes roam over different people, examining the parents sitting on benches as they talk amongst themselves, and the children laughing and yelling as they climb monkey-bars and go down slides.

You allow him a silent moment, awaiting what he may say; at one point you try to follow his line of sight in curiosity, but you don’t really understand why it’s taken his attention. Then he turns his face back to you, only for you to take a moment to even realize he’s now watching you and sheepishly smiling.

“Are you really curious?”

“Well, you’ve kept me waiting for a reply like it's some big secret. So yeah, I really am.” Did he have a kid he wanted to share it with? Was he going to read it to critique? Maybe hand it over to a student?

“You’ll have to excuse me for this, but I’ll be more than happy to tell you if you would go on a date with me.”

Goddamnit, another cheesy ass technique. He’s brave to do this one after already using the book as a way to talk to you. Though, you don't find yourself minding, seeing how he has the looks to pull it off and a nice demeanor to back it up. Dare you say it: you are quite taken with this bold stargazer. Thus you shake your head and let a laugh leave your lips.

“Fine, only because I think you're cute.”

“Well damn, I’ve never been forwardly called that.” He practically jumps to his feet, bending over to pat down his pants — careful to direct it all away from you lest you get covered in grass blades that stuck to him when crouching.

You really don’t believe he’s never been called cute, or even complimented in a similar way, a person would have to be blind to not tell him.

“Ok then, how about tonight?” His blue eyes meet yours.

“Where at, and what's the dress vibes?”

“Oh, damn.” A hand runs over the front of his hair, pressing the wavy locks down as he bites his lip. “You’re new to town, right?”

You nod, not surprised he knows that. For one, he’s obviously lived here long, and secondly, it’s not too big a town, so no doubt news got around fast.

“Ok, how about I pick you up? That’s proper for a date, unless…”

He leaves space for you to think and reply. You don’t take more than a second to answer. “My place isn’t too far from here, I don’t mind the usual first date stuff.” and you tell him your address and apartment number.

“Wonderful! six?”

“Six.”

“I’ll see you then, dressed casually.” He gives one last grin, eyes squinting with how wide it is, then gives a little trot away.

You watch him until he’s turned the corner at the sidewalk, leaving your sight, then look at your book. It's bound in a solid spine, with pages that smell old, and a cover where a blue-night sky with stars greet you. You really do want to learn how to observe the heavens, map each star and find the constellations you were only told in passing at school. Never did it pass your mind that this new hobby would get you a date with someone quite handsome.

Now what to wear that is casual, yet alluring.

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In a nice blouse and jeans, you finish brushing your hair when a knock comes to your door. Checking the time on your phone, you see it’s fifteen before six — was your date as excited as you? It wouldn’t be off-putting if he was, because it would actually make you feel a lot better about yourself; finding an outfit had torn up a box of clothes, and now your bed was buried under outfits you deemed not right.

Giving yourself another look over, you go and answer the door to find Mitchell with a forearm pressed on the doorjamb to lean against, and his face turned away to look off down the hall. When he turns to face you, a grin breaks out over his soft face — blue eyes roaming up and down your body. You fear he is inspecting you, yet find you were wrong when he speaks.

“I have no clue what I could have expected, but I’m sure glad I didn’t gain one. You look lovely,” And he says your name in what sounds like reverence.

Your grin matches his, giving a loose shrug with your arms. “I’m not much of a mystery you need to solve.” You step aside and beckon him inside. “I just need to grab my bag and necklace. Go ahead and get comfy.”

He takes you up on the offer, choosing to standing by the wall that separates the kitchenette from the living room. You don’t have time to see his physical reaction to your apartment, but he lets to hear it. “This apartment has a really nice view on the patio.”

“Oh, you visit the last people who rented it?”

“Yeah,” And you hear him walk across the room to the sliding door. He pulls the cloth shades to the side, letting in sunlight and you know he’s admiring the view. “A nice man who invited a lot of us in the neighborhood for football games.”

You stand in the door-frame that leads to your bedroom — bag strapped across your torso to hang by your hip. Both hands pinch the ends of a silver chain to hold up by your torso. The light really does wonders on Mitchell’s figure, showing off the pale planes of his face and making his blonde curls shine; it’s really upsettingly scary how handsome he is and how such a tiny valley could hide him.

Maybe you actually are grateful for his keeping away from the big cities where he’d be sought after by infatuated others — The Valley giving you a chance to admire him first. You really don't intend to seek anything but friendships, yet you can’t help but find a physical attraction towards Mitchell.

“Do you like sports?” You take a few steps to approach him.

He turns his head, watching you reach behind your neck to clasp the necklace. “It’s fun to watch, but I don’t like playing much. My father would try to get me playing, but I just didn’t have the stamina — here, let me help you.”

Looking up from struggling with the clasp, you find Mitchell holding his hands out to take the necklace. “Oh, thank you.”

He doesn’t take it like you thought, because before you could pull the chain away to hand over, large fingers are by either side of your neck and taking the chain between forefingers and thumbs. You stand still, taken aback at the action, and feel yourself warm up as he holds the chain in place and walks around you.

“Lift your hair, please.” His voice is near your ear.

You do as asked, cupping your hair to hold up. Where you can not see him, you can definitely feel his warm hands take a moment fumbling with the claw and tiny chain loop. You really hope he doesn’t notice the little hairs on your nape beginning to stand on end. Perhaps he didn’t, because soon enough he is done and nothing about it is said.

“There! Sorry about my fingers, they're too large for tiny little things.”

Turning around, you shake your head. “No, no, it’s fine, mine are too, but, ya know….”

You realize his eyes are lowered, and before you can see why, you see him cup his fingers under the pendant of your necklace. He lifts up the golden star to better see. “This is a lovely necklace.”

“Thank you, it’s citrine quartz. I picked it out since you’re The Valley’s stargazer.” You really do like stars and astronomy, so the piece of jewelry was a given to buy when you saw it on sale in your old city. And luckily you didn’t have to go too deep inside your boxes to find your jewelry.