#sept2021

You ruffled her curls fondly. She offered a crooked smile, grasping at your hand and pulling you along the stalls to another. Instead of a lovely little stuffed treasure, Claire pointed out a kewpie doll. It had the pouting face of a baby with a patch of light hair on its chalkware head. You tried not to wince at the prizes staring back at you.

A group of grinning chalkware clowns at your side sent a shiver down your spine. Why anyone found them charming was beyond you. You could handle many things--being peculiar almost ensured that--but you drew the line at clowns. Though if she’d asked, you likely would have given in.

“Are you sure this is what you want, sweet girl?” You asked softly.

This stall was rather busy compared to the others. Something about the kewpie doll attracted carnival attendants to it, eager to spend their money in hopes of taking it home. You shuffled around large groups of disappointed people with Claire. No matter what, no one seemed capable of winning it. You didn’t want Claire to get her hopes up.

“Yes!” She nodded.

The eager, happy smile on her face broke your resolve. You nodded and ushered her to the counter. A scruffy man in need of a shave took the offered money. In return, he handed you a handful of rings. You handed them to Claire.

He raised his eyebrows, an amused smirk on his lips. He went through the rules quickly with those near the counter; four rings over four bottles in a line. It seemed simple enough, but his smirk left you suspicious.

Claire handed her bear to you. You caught a nervous look on her face, setting a hand on her shoulder. She looked up with curiosity.

“Just do your best, Claire-bear.”

She nodded and turned back to the bottles. With a word from the stall runner, everyone began. Children and their parents cheered all around you, encouraging their children with loud exclamations. The noise almost distracted you from the starling accuracy of Claire’s rings.

One, two, three--the rings swung around the necks of the milk bottles in a line. You, as well as those around you, watched with bated breath. Claire released the final ring and you narrowed your eyes. Moments before landing around the bottle, there was an infinitesimal hesitation of the ring. Not enough for anyone else to notice, but you clocked it easily.

You watched Claire with a knowing look. She didn’t notice, too overwhelmed with her excitement at having won the prize she wanted. The man running the game muttered a curse as he handed over the doll. Thanking him and avoiding the shocked glances of the families around you, the two of you walked from the stall.

Claire practically buzzed with excitement. Before reaching another stall, you stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. She looked up, her grin dimming at the serious look on your face.

“What have Miss Peregrine and I said about cheating?” You asked patiently.

She looked down at her feet, shuffling them. You waited. Crowds milled around you, some whispering about the doll in Claire’s arms, others laughing about their day. Finally, Claire said, “That we shouldn’t do it.”

“That’s right, Claire. And why shouldn’t we do it?”

“It takes away from people who win the right way.”

‘Precisely. I’m very disappointed in you--and you too, Millard--for cheating today.” You said, casting a glance to the side. The gasp let you know you’d located him with success.

With sadness marring her precious face, Claire held out the doll to you. You felt your chest squeeze painfully. She’d been so happy at winning her prizes. You didn’t want to ruin her day by taking them from her, not when it was unlikely you’d return to the carnival again.

“Keep them,” You said slowly, trying not to smile at the happiness on her face, “but if this happens again, I’m not going to be so lenient. Do you understand?”

Claire nodded, throwing her little arms around your waist. You set your own on the top of her head, brushing through her curls comfortingly. You were glad none of the older children were around. If they had been, you know they’d tease you about your failed attempt at discipline. Despite your best efforts, your large heart made you soft, letting the children get away with far more than they should.

The facts of the situation should have dawned on you earlier. Though Millard was meant to be with Olive and Hugh, you knew you had no way of ensuring that. He was a tricky boy. His well-meaning and playful nature kept you from being too upset.

“My, Claire, what have you won?” A silky smooth voice asked, drawing your eyes upward.

Alma stood with a smile on her face, a twin holding onto each of her hands. In their other hands they had their own stuffed bears. You crouched and they rushed to you, holding their bears out with excited chittering. Claire eagerly regaled Alma with the tale of her victories--leaving out the extra help she received from Millard.

Your eyes drifted up to the ymbryne, her eyes already on you. They darted between meeting your own and focusing on Claire. Even in the light heat of the summer, Alma was completely unruffled. Her hair was coiffed to perfection and not a single wrinkle marred her dress. She was beautiful.

Emma appeared with Horace and Fiona in tow, carrying their own treasures. The three had opted for more edible delights. You moved to Alma’s side while all of the children went through the events of their day so far.

“How did Claire manage to win such prizes?” Alma murmured, an eyebrow climbing up her forehead.

“Pure luck, I suppose.” You lied.

Alma’s eyebrow didn’t budge. Neither did your neutral expression. A small smirk pulled at her lips, making you smile in return. You wanted nothing more than to kiss the smirk from her lips. Her beauty was intoxicating.

She seemed to sense your desire, though you guessed it was written on your face. For a moment her gaze left yours to address the group, “Children, I want you to go with Emma. Miss Y/N and I wish to take a turn about the area.”

All of the eyes on you were knowing, with the exception of the younger three. Emma even sent a smirk your way. You stuck your tongue out at her, not caring how childish it was. She laughed and herded the children away from you two. Then Alma took your arm in her own, ignoring the glances of passerby, and walked leisurely through the carnival.

You trusted her to guide the both of you through the crowds. Your eyes were focused on her face the entire time; admiring the curve of her brow, her sharp jaw, the side profile of her nose--all of it. There was nothing about her that didn’t make you breathless.

On a normal day, you’d have a proper hold on your affectionate gazes. Today was anything but normal. You’d woken up to an empty bed, eagerly pestered by your excited children. Something about taking the ferry to the mainland for the carnival. It was news to you, which was intended given the way Alma grinned at breakfast.

So caught up in the whirlwind of preparations and typical morning routines, you’d missed your time with Alma. That perfect little window of time before the sun rose where it was just you two. You’d be wrapped in each other’s arms, murmuring back and forth about anything that came to mind. It was the one part of the day where Alma was completely herself. Not Miss Peregrine, the prim and proper headmistress, but your bird.

You failed to realize how important that time was to you until today. Now your hands itched to pull her closer, tempted to say ‘society be damned’ for just a moment and kiss her. Only the fear of repercussions held you back. Alma wasn’t one for public affection, she’d be cross if you forced her hand.

“I’m pleased to see the twins have their own stuffed bears now.” You commented.

“Mm. As am I. Now they can find other items to fight over.” Alma said, smirking as she glanced at you. You let a chuckle escape.

“They don’t have many items you can split in half perfectly. Are you sure that’s what you want?”

“We’ll make it work.”

Alma patted your arm. You knew what that meant; she’d do her best to fix the situation, but you’d be the one stopping a meltdown. The less screeching in the house the better.

It was only then that you looked in front of you. She was weaving in and out of crowds, obviously on a mission to get somewhere. You had no idea where she was taking you and she offered no hints.

“Alma, where are we going?” You asked finally.

“Emma mentioned something titled a ‘hall of mirrors.’ I can’t imagine staring at oneself is exciting, but I’d like to find out.”

You bit your lip to keep from grinning. Sometimes you really did forget what time you were in, how a hall of mirrors was a wonder to the people around you. You were glad to be accompanying Alma. She was knowledgeable on many things in the future, this obviously was not one of them.

Over the heads of passersby, you caught a wooden sign with sloppy paint reading ‘Hall of Mirrors.’ There was no line outside the door to your surprise. You remembered passing briefly earlier in the day, when a winding line had wrapped around the building.

Alma tugged you inside without hesitation. Her eyes darted back and forth in the dim lighting, taking in the reflective surfaces. Then she stepped in front of one and gasped. Her perfect legs were 2x longer than the rest of her torso, wildly altering her proportions. She paid you no mind as she dragged you to the next one. Instead, this one shrunk her completely.

“These mirrors are broken.” She stated, turning and looking at herself in horror from multiple angles.

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your lips. As soon as it echoed off of the walls, you clapped a hand over your mouth. Alma whipped around to glare at you.

“I hardly see what is so funny.” She said, arms folded over her chest.

“Nothing. Nothing is funny.” You lied.

Alma said nothing, but her face did all of the talking. Her raised eyebrow and narrowed eyes pierced your facade. You tried to offer a sweet smile, nothing changed.

“I just never expected you to be so angry that something did what it was intended to.” You said, a grin breaking through the serious mask you attempted to craft.

“The point of this place is to give children and adults a lack of aesthetic autonomy?”

You blinked at her choice of words. Slowly, you recovered, and shook your head. She wasn’t too far off, but that gave it a negative connotation.

“It’s meant to be silly, Alma. Look,” You grinned, stepping in front of one, “Don’t I look funny?”

“No. You look delightful, as always.” Alma shook her head.

For a split second, you believed she was completely serious. She was on the front of finding you beautiful, but a small grin spread across her face as she also stepped before a mirror. Her eyes twinkled in her reflection.

Your face flushed crimson. No matter how many times she complimented you, you never adjusted to it. Perhaps it was the intense affection in her eyes following every compliment.

Alma reached out and took your hand in her own, pulling you to stand beside her. You were surprised when she tilted your head up, placing a gentle and quick kiss on your lips. You stared in awe.

“Hello, my dove.” Alma whispered, kissing your forehead this time.

“Hello.” You smiled.

“Have you enjoyed your day thus far?”

“I have. It was a wonderful idea to bring the children here, they’re having so much fun.”

“They needed a change. Hard as they try, they become restless when nothing changes.”

“Well, you always have the perfect ideas to keep them from getting too restless.” You said. She pressed another kiss to your forehead in thanks.

“And you are very patient with them. Without you, we’d surely descend into madness.”

“A little madness never hurts anyone. After all, you’re a little mad yourself.”

“Mad?” Alma gasped with fake hurt, “I’m no such thing.”

“Right. And I’m not crazy for you—now we’re both liars.” You deadpanned.

A fond look crossed her face as she trailed a finger down your cheek. The light scrape of her nail made you shiver, though in a pleasant way.

“Come, let’s return to our children before they rob every stall they find.” She offered you her arm once more.

Pressing one last, lingering kiss to her lips, you took her arm. She led you from the hall of mirrors and around the corner. All of your children were crowded around Bronwyn as she conquered a strength-based game. Onlookers watched with wide eyes and gaping mouths.

You and Alma shared an amused look. Part of you wondered if that fell under the realm of ‘cheating’ you both had set, but you hardly cared at this point. They were having fun. Nothing mattered more to you than the joy of those you loved and that would never change.