The days of glorious sunshine as summer faded into autumn had always been Jessamin Stewart's favourite of the entire year. Back home in England, the leaves would be just beginning to turn, the weather just starting to turn with them, heralding the start of the darker months and the homely, domestic engagements of family friends and small parties that kept the middle and upper classes entertained through the long winters. Here in Rhy'Din, the summer seemed to want to linger, and Jessamin was happy for it to do so. Longer days meant more opportunities to spend time with her dearest friend here in this strange place, and with no aunts to worry over her, she was slowly relaxing into the easier trend of life here in Rhy'Din.
For example, at home, she would be spending a sunny morning sitting at home or calling on acquaintances with her aunts, observing the social niceties in a prescribed manner. Yet here, she could walk through dappled shade and sun beneath gloriously bright trees, all alone with a man whom she felt more for than simply a friend, her hair loosely tied with a single ribbon and no corset to restrain the naturally slender softness of her figure, and no one looked down on her for it. And after almost a year here, she did not now think she could bear to return to the stiff upper lip of her own time and place back on Earth.
As for Will, born and bred a native Texan, he was looking forward to the cooler days of autumn. It had been just over a year since he'd arrived in Rhy'Din, and during that time he'd managed to secure a job and a place to stay. He wasn't making a lot of money, but it was enough to make ends meet, and no one was shooting at him, which was always a plus. He'd turned twenty-two in April, outliving most of his comrades back home, whose average life expectancy as fighter pilots wasn't much more than a few months at best. From what little he understood about the Nexus, he'd learned that he was not only far from home, but far from his own place in Time.
Even after a year, he wasn't completely comfortable with Rhy'Din and didn't think he ever would be, preferring the customs, culture, and technology of his own world and time period, and as such, he'd become something of a loner. The only real friend he'd managed to make was someone who was as much out of time as he was, and though he hadn't yet expressed his feelings, that friendship was growing ever deeper by the day. Though he'd learned of a possible way home, there was nothing left for him there but war and death, and he couldn't bear the thought of leaving the one person behind that meant more to him than anyone else ever had.
It had become something of a tradition for them, over the months, to steal an afternoon here, a morning there, always seeking to get out of the city and away from everything that was strange and out of place and time for them both. He had not yet convinced her to even approach his plane, for in her time men had not yet conquered the skies as they had in his. But walking together, no matter the weather or location ....that was something they could do with no fear of contrasts or strangeness between them, and it was something Jessamin looked forward to eagerly. And yet when they were together ....she could never think of anything to say.
They walked close together, not quite hand in hand, mostly at ease in each other's company, except when things got awkward, which seemed to be happening more frequently lately, as his feelings for her grew. He'd been content to be her friend for a long time, both of them lonely and out of place except when they were with each other, but now, after nearly a year, he found himself suddenly at ease with his place in Rhy'Din and wanting something more. "Nice day," he said, making small talk, knowing he'd have to draw conversation out of her if he wanted to know what was going through that pretty little brunette head of hers.
"It is a beautiful day," she agreed with him, eager to fill the silence that had been growing more and more uncomfortable between them. The backs of her fingers brushed his, no gloves today to keep her skin from his, and she blushed at the tiny contact, glancing away with a shy smile. "Back home, these would be the last days of summer, but I don't know how long the summer lasts here."
"Longer than summers in England, shorter than Texas. It doesn't get too cold back home. I'm kind of looking forward to snow, but it will make flying tricky." That was an understatement, since the c*ckpit was open to the elements, without any kind of protection from wind or rain or snow. Bad weather kept him from flying, and if he couldn't fly, he couldn't pay the bills. He'd thought about making some modifications or even trading her in for a new model, but like an old friend, he just couldn't bear to part with the plane. He pretended not to notice the brief brush of fingers against his hand, but it was hard to hide the flush that colored his face at that brief and unintended caress.
"I like the snow," Jessamin conceded in her genteel, soft voice, daring to deliberately touch her fingers to his a second time, careful not to look down or even seem to acknowledge the shy nod toward the sort of contact that would have earned her a beating from her strict aunts. "Not too much of it, but enough to coat the ground and freeze the water for skating. But I like the sun, as well; the warmth that means I do not have to wear a coat, or a hat. Or gloves."
He felt that brush of fingers against his once again and gulped a breath, daring to look her way, admiring the way the sun lit her face and cast a golden glow about her, bringing out the red-gold highlights in her hair. "You look pretty today," he told her quietly, shyly. Hell, she looked pretty every day. It wasn't the first time he'd noticed, but it was the first time he'd mentioned it.
The smile his little compliment produced was warm and bright and seemingly startled, as though she truly was not used to being told such a thing. Gentle brown eyes lifted to his. "Thank you, Will." And yes, he had finally taught her to use his name without considering it rude. One compliment deserved another, and she knew what she wanted to say. She just hadn't been expecting to blurt it out on the heels of his. "You are quite the handsomest man of my acquaintance, you know. But far more than simply handsome in looks."
He arched a brow at her, having to almost decipher and translate what it was she was trying to tell him in her own cordial way before he thought he understood it. Though pulled from eras that were only a few decades apart in time, it often seemed like they were worlds apart in customs and culture. She was a refined lady from England, while he was little more than a cowboy from Texas. Nevertheless, he accepted the compliment with a smile, no matter what exactly was meant by it. "Thanks, I think."
She giggled softly, her demeanor relaxing in the face of his smiling confusion. "I mean I like you, Will, far better than I've liked anyone else," she assured him, the clarification almost innocent but for the sudden pounding of her heart. "You have a beautiful soul, as well as a handsome face. I count myself lucky to be your friend." But, oh, how she wished she could break that last taboo drilled into her by her upbringing and ask him if he liked her as something more than a friend.
A thoughtful expression appeared on his face. She liked him. Well, of course, she liked him. They were friends. Best friends. He trusted her more than he trusted anyone else, but he found himself wanting more than just friendship, and he wasn't sure she felt the same way. He slowed their stroll to bend down and pluck a wildflower that was growing along the side of the path. He came to a halt as he turned to face her, turning to offer her the flower that paled in beauty beside her. "For you," he said, his heart pounding nervously in his chest.
For example, at home, she would be spending a sunny morning sitting at home or calling on acquaintances with her aunts, observing the social niceties in a prescribed manner. Yet here, she could walk through dappled shade and sun beneath gloriously bright trees, all alone with a man whom she felt more for than simply a friend, her hair loosely tied with a single ribbon and no corset to restrain the naturally slender softness of her figure, and no one looked down on her for it. And after almost a year here, she did not now think she could bear to return to the stiff upper lip of her own time and place back on Earth.
As for Will, born and bred a native Texan, he was looking forward to the cooler days of autumn. It had been just over a year since he'd arrived in Rhy'Din, and during that time he'd managed to secure a job and a place to stay. He wasn't making a lot of money, but it was enough to make ends meet, and no one was shooting at him, which was always a plus. He'd turned twenty-two in April, outliving most of his comrades back home, whose average life expectancy as fighter pilots wasn't much more than a few months at best. From what little he understood about the Nexus, he'd learned that he was not only far from home, but far from his own place in Time.
Even after a year, he wasn't completely comfortable with Rhy'Din and didn't think he ever would be, preferring the customs, culture, and technology of his own world and time period, and as such, he'd become something of a loner. The only real friend he'd managed to make was someone who was as much out of time as he was, and though he hadn't yet expressed his feelings, that friendship was growing ever deeper by the day. Though he'd learned of a possible way home, there was nothing left for him there but war and death, and he couldn't bear the thought of leaving the one person behind that meant more to him than anyone else ever had.
It had become something of a tradition for them, over the months, to steal an afternoon here, a morning there, always seeking to get out of the city and away from everything that was strange and out of place and time for them both. He had not yet convinced her to even approach his plane, for in her time men had not yet conquered the skies as they had in his. But walking together, no matter the weather or location ....that was something they could do with no fear of contrasts or strangeness between them, and it was something Jessamin looked forward to eagerly. And yet when they were together ....she could never think of anything to say.
They walked close together, not quite hand in hand, mostly at ease in each other's company, except when things got awkward, which seemed to be happening more frequently lately, as his feelings for her grew. He'd been content to be her friend for a long time, both of them lonely and out of place except when they were with each other, but now, after nearly a year, he found himself suddenly at ease with his place in Rhy'Din and wanting something more. "Nice day," he said, making small talk, knowing he'd have to draw conversation out of her if he wanted to know what was going through that pretty little brunette head of hers.
"It is a beautiful day," she agreed with him, eager to fill the silence that had been growing more and more uncomfortable between them. The backs of her fingers brushed his, no gloves today to keep her skin from his, and she blushed at the tiny contact, glancing away with a shy smile. "Back home, these would be the last days of summer, but I don't know how long the summer lasts here."
"Longer than summers in England, shorter than Texas. It doesn't get too cold back home. I'm kind of looking forward to snow, but it will make flying tricky." That was an understatement, since the c*ckpit was open to the elements, without any kind of protection from wind or rain or snow. Bad weather kept him from flying, and if he couldn't fly, he couldn't pay the bills. He'd thought about making some modifications or even trading her in for a new model, but like an old friend, he just couldn't bear to part with the plane. He pretended not to notice the brief brush of fingers against his hand, but it was hard to hide the flush that colored his face at that brief and unintended caress.
"I like the snow," Jessamin conceded in her genteel, soft voice, daring to deliberately touch her fingers to his a second time, careful not to look down or even seem to acknowledge the shy nod toward the sort of contact that would have earned her a beating from her strict aunts. "Not too much of it, but enough to coat the ground and freeze the water for skating. But I like the sun, as well; the warmth that means I do not have to wear a coat, or a hat. Or gloves."
He felt that brush of fingers against his once again and gulped a breath, daring to look her way, admiring the way the sun lit her face and cast a golden glow about her, bringing out the red-gold highlights in her hair. "You look pretty today," he told her quietly, shyly. Hell, she looked pretty every day. It wasn't the first time he'd noticed, but it was the first time he'd mentioned it.
The smile his little compliment produced was warm and bright and seemingly startled, as though she truly was not used to being told such a thing. Gentle brown eyes lifted to his. "Thank you, Will." And yes, he had finally taught her to use his name without considering it rude. One compliment deserved another, and she knew what she wanted to say. She just hadn't been expecting to blurt it out on the heels of his. "You are quite the handsomest man of my acquaintance, you know. But far more than simply handsome in looks."
He arched a brow at her, having to almost decipher and translate what it was she was trying to tell him in her own cordial way before he thought he understood it. Though pulled from eras that were only a few decades apart in time, it often seemed like they were worlds apart in customs and culture. She was a refined lady from England, while he was little more than a cowboy from Texas. Nevertheless, he accepted the compliment with a smile, no matter what exactly was meant by it. "Thanks, I think."
She giggled softly, her demeanor relaxing in the face of his smiling confusion. "I mean I like you, Will, far better than I've liked anyone else," she assured him, the clarification almost innocent but for the sudden pounding of her heart. "You have a beautiful soul, as well as a handsome face. I count myself lucky to be your friend." But, oh, how she wished she could break that last taboo drilled into her by her upbringing and ask him if he liked her as something more than a friend.
A thoughtful expression appeared on his face. She liked him. Well, of course, she liked him. They were friends. Best friends. He trusted her more than he trusted anyone else, but he found himself wanting more than just friendship, and he wasn't sure she felt the same way. He slowed their stroll to bend down and pluck a wildflower that was growing along the side of the path. He came to a halt as he turned to face her, turning to offer her the flower that paled in beauty beside her. "For you," he said, his heart pounding nervously in his chest.