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Wendla sighed. She really shouldn’t have brought up her mother, she didn’t want Martha to worry, especially about her. “Don’t worry, I won’t. I mean, I will be careful. I won’t get in trouble. Please don’t worry about me.” Wendla hated that she might have given Martha just another thing to stress out over. She just wanted to help, but she’d made everything worse, as usual.

“Martha, no!” Martha, out of all of the friends that Wendla had lost, deserved to feel bad about it the least. “God, I’m barely worthy to be in your presence, you’re like the sun, or something, I don’t know how to explain it. And you’ve never been closed off. Maybe to other people - people that didn’t deserve to be around you anyways, but never to me. It’s hardly your fault that we don’t - didn’t talk. I guess I got the impression - am still getting the impression that none of those people... like me anymore, so I didn’t even give you a chance. It’s not your fault.”

At Martha’s smile though, Wendla perked up. “That’s good, Martha, I’m glad!”

in the midst of this nothing // thatmustbe

Well, perhaps it was a bit hypocritical for Martha to advise against hiding things from parents. She was, after all, offering to hide things that Martha herself was planning on hiding from her own. Still, she couldn’t help being cautious. “Well … Be careful, if you decide to. I wouldn’t want to get you into trouble.” She would feel very badly, if that were to happen.

She shook her head gently. “Still. If I had reached out more, it wouldn’t have happened in the first place. I mean – I was – I am pretty closed off, a lot of the time. I know that. You deserve more than that.” She couldn’t help feeling like all of her friends deserved more than her, really. They were all so good to her, and she didn’t know what she’d do without them. They deserved the world, but all they got was a girl who jumped at her own shadow and sometimes walked right out of the room in the middle of a conversation if the volume got too loud.

But Wendla’s words directly contradicted that feeling. Martha … meant a lot to her. “It means a lot just to hear you say that,” Martha said, returning the girl’s cheerful smile. It made her feel good to make Wendla so happy.

[colourthehour-blog]

Wendla tilted her head to the side and smiled. “You’re not intruding!” She giggled a little. “I was- um- startled to see you here, as you could probably tell, but it wasn’t an unwelcome surprise.”

“Yes!” Wendla began. “That was wonderful. And you deserved to walk the plank,” she teased, poking him in the side.

Wendla was positively beaming when Melchior finished talking. She had assumed that he didn’t talk to her because he didn’t like her, or didn’t want to talk to her. “It is a shame, isn’t it? And yes! We used to have such interesting talks - you used to have the strongest opinions. From what I’ve heard, that hasn’t changed a bit.”

She wasn’t sure how to phrase her feelings. “I’d love to start talking again.” She cringed. God, why was she so awkward? “I honestly haven’t kept in touch with many people - they don’t seem to like me very much.” Oh God, too personal. She quickly veered away from that topic. “Not that it matters. I mean, I understand.”

flowers & first meetings // allthatisknown

Melchior laughed with well intent, “There’s really no need, I completely understand the feeling.” He picked up his journal and bounced it back and forth between his hands, “I hope I’m not intruding on this little meadow, it’s quite beautiful.”

He nodded his head with Wendla’s recollections. “Yes! I remember, we’d play pirates and Ilse was always telling me to ‘walk the plank.’” He hid a grin behind his hand – what a nostalgic memory. In all honestly, has his relationship with Ilse changed? 

Melchior waited for Wendla to finish her sentence, and when she didn’t, he shifted his weight to his other leg, swinging his journal back and forth. “…Yes. We used to be. It’s a shame we haven’t had any classes together, I distinctly remember how much I liked our conversations, what little of them there were.” He smiled at her and shrugged, “I don’t see why we shouldn’t be again.”

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Wendla shook her head. “N- No, Mama wouldn’t like it if she found out, of course. But she won’t. She’s let me have a little - a very little bit more privacy lately, and she won’t look if I kept them in the drawers in my closet or anything. And if she found them, I could just tell her I was trying my hand at making clothes. If anything, that would make her happy.”

Wendla listened to Martha speak, curious and a little surprised. “Really? I mean - I never held it against you - against any of you that we didn’t talk. I didn’t reach out either, it’s my fault. But that you, really, thank you so much.”

Wendla beamed. “Of course I will. Thank you, Martha, it means a lot to know that I have someone like you in my life.”

in the midst of this nothing // thatmustbe

Martha’s own train of thought about the fabrics echoed Wendla’s easily enough. After all, the mere mention of Wendla’s mama made her quite sure that there would be questions. And probably disapproval, if her general disposition towards Martha herself was any indicator. “If she does, then you don’t have to. I wouldn’t want your mother to be angry with you because of me!” Although she didn’t know exactly what Frau Bergmann had against her, she certainly didn’t expect Wendla to put anything on the line for her. That wouldn’t be fair.

Martha sat up as she listened to Wendla’s explanation, wrapping her arms loosely around her knees as she leaned forward. Her brow furrowed slightly at her words. “Well, I’m sure that’s not true – about people caring, I mean. We all care about you a lot. I’m sorry that we – that I – didn’t make it more clear.” She couldn’t help feeling guilty that Wendla was so lonely before. After all, they had been somewhat close as children. As close as Martha had dared to get to anyone at the time, anyways. Perhaps if she had been more open with how she felt, or had gotten braver sooner, this wouldn’t have happened.

“I’m glad you’re getting close to everyone again. And if you’re ever feeling – not alright – you can always call me or text me or anything, you know? I can’t always reach it right away – not if Father’s watching – But, of course, I’ll always do my best to get to you as soon as possible.”

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“I’d be happy to keep some things at my house! I’m sure Mama wouldn’t mind - at least - I don’t think she would.” The more Wendla thought about it, the more she was certain that her mother would ask too many questions - and she’d never been fond of people disobeying their parents. However, Wendla didn’t see a need for Martha to worry about that, as Wendla could easily just hide the clothes in her closet, or something. 

“Of course it’s not too personal, Martha, I’d tell you anything,” Wendla began. “It’s just that - when the childhood games ended - so did most of my friendships. It seems as though - I guess - they had no real reason or motivation to hang around me anymore. Most of you all have stayed friends, and that’s good, really. I guess it’s just a combination of never having classes with people, and people never really... caring. I just sort of drifted away from everyone, and never became close with anyone else. It’s partially my fault - I think - and probably partially my mother’s as well - she was never very kind to my friends, though I’m sure she had her reasons.”

“It’s alright though, I guess. I mean it wasn’t for a while - but I’m starting to talk to more people again - you especially.”

in the midst of this nothing // thatmustbe

“I’d love your help! Sometimes the orders get a bit overwhelming. And I keep hiding the clothing at people’s houses when there’s too much to make without making father suspicious – Georg’s room is covered in lace and floral print fabric, by now.” Martha let out a small laugh, shaking her head. She never meant for it to happen, but it had gotten away from her.

“Definitely,” Martha agreed, “As much as I can manage to sneak away from the house, anyways. What about you, Wendla? If you don’t mind me asking, if it’s not personal … Why is it hard to catch up with people? Of course, you don’t have to tell me – Only if you want to.” 

Martha knew that sometimes, all you really wanted to do was keep something to yourself. She didn’t want to pressure the girl, but she was curious – Why was someone as sweet as Wendla so lonely?

[colourthehour-blog]

“I do!” Wendla said, but quickly corrected herself. “Well, I try to at least. It’d probably be better for me to work a little - no - a lot more before I help you with anything.” She laughed a little - she was never afraid of joking around at her own expense. “I’ve only made two skirts - one of which has already torn! Mama has a sewing machine, though, and I’m sure I can borrow it!”

Wendla was shocked and delighted at Martha’s complete lack of inhibition. Wendla didn’t think she’d ever seen her so happy - and it made Wendla happier than she had been in recent times too. 

“We are friends, Martha!” She exclaimed, giggling and throwing herself back into the moss as well. “And absolutely - I need to see you more often!’

in the midst of this nothing // thatmustbe

Martha actually giggled as Wendla gushed excitement. It was so nice to make the dear girl happy with what was going on in her life, as opposed to sad. Her offer to help was especially sweet. “Do you sew, Wendla?” There was still so much she didn’t know about the girl – a shame, since they had been acquaintances at least since they were children, and friends for far too long for her to know so little. She supposed she just wasn’t one to ask, and Wendla wasn’t one to volunteer information.

At the talk of freedom, Martha’s smile grew brighter still. “Exactly. And, in the meantime, I take freedom where I can. Like today.” Martha laid back in the moss, curls spread around her, cheered by the promise of it all. It was so easy to be optimistic with Wendla – a great way to start her week, really.

She propped herself up on her elbows as Wendla spoke of her own life, nodding along. There was no judgment from Martha – before this year, she could have spent months with little to no contact with her friends. “Well, I consider you a friend, Wendla. And that just proves that we’ll have to hang out more!” She was glad she could brighten Wendla’s day.

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“It’s perfectly fine!” Wendla says. “I mean it’s not- we really should be talking more, but it’s certainly not your fault.” 

Wendla listened to her talk about Georg- saw the way she lit up at the mere mention of him- and her heart began to swell too.

“Oh Martha, that’s wonderful! I’m so happy for both of you! And wow, a shop? That’s incredible! If you ever want me to help make clothes, I would love to. Anything to help you - and I’ve always adored making things. Martha - it may seem like a long time, but soon we’ll be adults - and by then you’ll have loads of money - and you’ll never have to see your parents again! You’ll be free!” Wendla wondered if she was overstepping a bit by saying such things, but she was filled to the brim with joy, and the words just poured out of her.

“And oh gosh, compared to you? I’ve been doing nothing at all. I’ve been in a bit of a rut lately, honestly. I can already feel it beginning to get better though. It’s just that I haven’t really had any contact with anyone recently - really I don’t have many friends these days - but here I am talking to you! Things are already looking brighter!”

in the midst of this nothing // thatmustbe

Wendla was right – it was an accomplishment. “I’m glad you see that, too. It might not seem like much to some people but to me, it’s – it’s everything.” She knew that, by most standards, her little freedoms seemed petty and meaningless. Surely, Melchior would have said they were pointless, as they didn’t serve some greater cause. But she couldn’t serve others if she was trapped at home all the time, and so she considered taking these victories for herself to be very meaningful.

She couldn’t believe that Wendla hadn’t heard about Georg yet. She supposed she wasn’t as open about it in school, but still. The other girl’s confusion over the shop only served to further convince her that things had been less than close between the two of them, lately. “Goodness, Wendla! It really has been too long since we talked – really talked, I mean. I’m sorry.” No wonder the poor girl had been feeling lonely. Martha made a mental note to reach out to her more. Wendla was a dear, and she did enjoy her company.

“Well. I guess I have a lot to tell you, then. Um, starting with Georg, I guess. You see, we started hanging out – like, I’d sneak out after father went to bed and we’d meet at the stop sign, just go out to the diner on the edge of town or whatever. Then we started talking a lot and got really close. Sometimes we’d stay out – oh, all night, sitting in his Jeep at the beach and just talking. And then one night, we just sort of – um, became more than that. And so we’re dating now.” She smiled slightly, pushing now-loose curls out of her face. “We keep it quiet at school and stuff because father would be angry if he found out.”

She shook her head, a smile that was quite unlike her spreading across her lips. It was almost – angry. Victorious, really, because what she was about to tell Wendla meant so much to her. “But he’d be even angrier if he found out about the shop. I’m selling clothes that I make online to people, and him and mother know nothing about it. That way, I can save up money without them knowing, and one day – one day, I won’t have to rely on them anymore.” She caught Wendla’s eye, and her smile melted into something quite softer. “Imagine it, Wendla!”

She shifted gears quickly, eyes widening. “But that’s enough about me! What have you been up to?”

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Wendla perked up, beaming at Martha.

“Yes!” she began. “You can get through this, Martha, it’s so good to hear you say that, truly. A year ago I couldn’t have imagined you saying such things. But here we are! I believe that’s an accomplishment in itself, even if it doesn’t seem like one. Your future will be wonderful, Martha, I’m sure of it. It’s an honor just to be in your presence - to have someone to talk to - someone I value as much as you, especially, is a wonderful privilege. And no, I appreciate your sappiness, really. And Georg? Wow, I haven’t seen him in ages. You two still talk?”

Wendla had seen him around of course, but they’d never had time to talk, and she’d never seen him and Martha together. Then again, she hadn’t seen much of Martha recently before now at all. Still, she was ecstatic to hear that Martha had a support group, of sorts, and it was thrilling to feel like a part of it.

“That’s so good for you, Martha! It’s incredible that you’re keeping your grades up, it seems to me that school is becoming more and more difficult with every day that passes. At least it’s summer now. And no, you never told me about that!” Wendla tilted her head to the side a little. “A shop? That sounds lovely!”

in the midst of this nothing // thatmustbe

A step in the right direction. She couldn’t have agreed more. “I think so, too. And I can keep taking steps, you know? I can – I can get through this.” It was hard to articulate her hopeful thoughts. Still, she wanted to try – for Wendla, who didn’t deserve to worry about her. Besides, it was good to talk about such happy topics.

“Wendla, you know … Through – Through most of my life, I … I didn’t want to think about the future. I couldn’t imagine anything past where I was, uhm … Where I am. But now, I can. And it’s because of my friends that I can do that, you know? Because of people like you. You’re already doing more for me than you know, just by sitting here with me. So – So you have nothing to apologize for. I’m grateful for you.” She laughed shaking her head. “I sound like a Hallmark card. Georg’s sappiness is rubbing off on me, clearly.” Or maybe she was just getting better at saying how she really felt. That freedom was allowed to encompass the good as well as the bad. The thought made her heart feel warm.

“Besides, the future really is bright, Wendla. I’m keeping my grades up so I can get scholarships, and the shop will help me – Wait. Have I told you about Seasons for Dreaming, yet? It’s sort of hard to talk about when we aren’t alone, or online …” She looked curiously over at her friend. Her little online store was her biggest rebellion, the one thing that gave her hope of living independently – free.

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Wendla felt her face flush. She wasn’t entirely sure if he was mocking her or not, but he seemed genuine enough.

“Y--yes, I-- I’m Wendla.” She smiled a little, surprised that he recognized her. “I--I was enjoying myself. It’s so lovely out here, and I just get a little bit... Lost in it sometimes. I’ll be paying more attention next time,” she said, laughing a little to lighten the mood.

“Melchior, wow, I haven’t seen you in years!” Warm feelings flooded her when she remembered their time as children-- back when they were all just friends without a care in the world.  “We used to be so close... But I suppose these things happen. After all, we haven’t been in any classes together since grade school. It’s sad, really, when you think about it, we all used to be so close, but now--”

Wendla cut herself off, realizing that she was rambling, and that Melchior probably had somewhere to be, and didn’t want to be listening to her prattle on about the past.

flowers & first meetings // allthatisknown

Melchior peered through the branches that lined his usual path back home, and mused. Perhaps if he went through the meadow it would take less time? The flowers looked pleasant enough swaying in the wind, and maybe he could pick some for his mother’s garden. It wasn’t until he was halfway downhill he heard the distant sound of laughter – the sunlight catching on bright cloth. 

The boy thought to walk around, or maybe just turn back – but Melchior Gabor was Melchior Gabor, and so curiosity got the better of him. He knew Ilse and Martha occasionally spent time in the meadow, though this seemed to be someone else. “Hello?” Slam. Flowers went flying everywhere, and so did Melchior’s journal, but Melchior was more intrigued by the fact that he recognized her. 

“…Wendla Bergmann?” He smiled slowly, still holding his arm that was hit. She seemed to be sputtering quick apologies, so he quickly interrupted, “No, no, there’s really no need to apologize.” He knelt down to help her. “You certainly looked like you were enjoying yourself.”  

[colourthehour-blog]

Wendla still felt guilty for staying on the topic, and making Martha talk about it-- she deserved a break, and here Wendla was filling her little free time with this. Still, it was good to hear that Martha wasn’t mad (or maybe she was, but Wendla didn’t think she’d ever tell her that). 

“No, really,” she began. “I shouldn’t have dwelt on it. I’m glad though-- that you’re doing alright. You deserve to-- to be doing better than alright, but, it’s a step in the right direction, at least, I think so.” Wendla smiled, and reached out to stroke Martha’s hair. “Your hair is beautiful, Martha. I’m glad you can wear it down now.” She remembered when they were children, and came to the realization that she’d never seen Martha act as freely as she did now. Maybe-- hopefully she’d been truthful when she’d said that things were alright. Wendla didn’t think she had any reason to lie to her.

“No-- it’s okay-- I didn’t mean to-- I don’t need to know anything that it wouldn’t help you to tell me. It’s not my business-- really, I’m sorry-- but if you ever need someone to talk to, I’m always here.”

in the midst of this nothing // thatmustbe

Martha could understand what Wendla was saying about her mother. “Yes, I could see that. It’s – It’s nice to talk to other people. Like, our age.” With what little contact Martha had with Wendla’s mother, she could imagine how Wendla must feel around her. She got the idea that Frau Bergmann didn’t like her very much, or any of Wendla’s friends, for that matter. It made her a bit uncomfortable, considering what usually happened when adults were upset with her.

Martha allowed the topic to stray to more cheerful matters, smiling along with Wendla’s melodic laugh. But, of course, it couldn’t stay. It made her feel a bit bad for even bringing it up, in the first place. Wendla didn’t deserve to be brought down by Martha’s admittedly awful home life. She gave a small smile, reaching out to rest her hand on top of Wendla’s.

“It’s okay. You’re – You’re allowed? I’m not, um, upset at you asking, or anything.” No, she couldn’t be mad at Wendla for something like that. Sometimes the questions did annoy her, or distress her, or make her sad. But coming from Wendla …? No, the sweet girl simply worried after her – she didn’t know what it was like, and didn’t pretend to.

“I’m alright, though.” Maybe it sounded like a lie. She didn’t want Wendla to think she was keeping things from her. The girl deserved more than that. “I mean, you’re right – there are bad days, of course. But there are good ones, too. Like today, here, with you. I don’t have to worry here, I can – I can do what I want, right now. What happens tonight doesn’t matter here. For now, I don’t have to worry … Like this.” As if to prove it, Martha began to untie her braids, smiling at Wendla. She might have done it sooner, but she had honestly forgotten until now. It was honestly more comfortable to have them free, and she was used to untying them when she could, now. “I appreciate you listening, really, but – but you don’t have to. It’s alright. But I don’t mind you asking things – if you want.” Maybe if Wendla could get it off her chest, she’d feel better.

[colourthehour-blog]

“I agree!” Wendla replied. “I can’t wait for college, though I don’t have a clue what I’d like to study. I’d like a career, helping children in some way. I think. I- I know how you feel,“ Wendla agreed hesitantly, knowing that she did not know to the extent that Martha must. “I don’t mind school. At least then I have some sort of contact with people that aren’t my mother. I love her, but she’s hard to talk too sometimes.” Wendla’s mother was hard to talk to all of the time, actually, but Wendla could hardly bring up family issues knowing all that Martha had to deal with. 

“Yeah, I did get a twitter, and stuff, and it seems to be helping. After all, it is how we’re talking right now!” Wendla let out a small like that sounded a bit like wind chimes, but quickly silenced herself at the mention of Martha’s father.

She had to be careful how she proceeded now, as she didn’t want to upset Martha or intrude. She just wanted Martha to know that Wendla was safe to talk to, if Martha wished to.

“Your father...” she began, serious now. “Are you-- are you okay? I mean-- obviously not fully, but--” Wendla cut herself off, shaking her head slightly. “I’m sorry-- I’m so sorry, but what I’m trying to say is that I hope things are getting-- or that things do get better for you soon, and that I’m here to help in any way I can, or just listen, I guess. I’m sorry, Martha, really, I shouldn’t have said anything.“

in the midst of this nothing // thatmustbe

Martha nodded along easily to Wendla’s comments about school. “Yeah. I think it’ll be easier in college – like, you have a bit more control over what it is you’re learning, I think. Right now, though, it’s just, you know, busywork. It feels sort of pointless … But I don’t mind going to school. It’s somewhere – somewhere else.”

Wendla’s comments about losing contact with friends made her feel sort of sad. She knew where the other girl was coming from, though. “That’s how – well, things were like that a lot before I got a phone. And twitter, that really helps. When I can get away from father long enough to check it, anyways.” Did Wendla even know that her cell phone was a secret from her parents? She was having a hard time keeping track of who knew what. The other day she almost made a comment about her father’s belt to Hanschen, who didn’t know about it yet.

Well, if Wendla wanted clarification, she’d probably ask for it. She didn’t think the other girl was shy about such things. Although questions sometimes made her uncomfortable, they stung a bit less coming from Wendla, who seemed to genuinely try to understand, rather than from someone who wanted to just give well-meaning but ultimately useless advice.

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Wendla let herself relax a little, dipping her toes into the cool water. She was intensely relieved that Martha hadn’t noticed her staring, or at least, didn’t seem upset by it.

She was also relieved at Martha’s response to her confession. Not an oh, I’m sorry, but an I understand that made everything feel just the tiniest bit better. 

“It is! I never loved school, but I’ve always loved learning, and it’s always better to have something to do, I think,” she began. “It seems I’ve lost contact with most of my friends, thought I am hoping that improves soon.” Wendla didn’t mention that she hadn’t really had close friends since she was a child, besides the occasionally romps with the girls and late night chats with Martha. Wendla didn’t want to make herself seems too pathetic, not when they were just beginning to develop a rapport again.

in the midst of this nothing // thatmustbe

Martha noticed her looking, of course, but she didn’t say anything about it. After all, she had sort of been the one to call attention to it, although it wasn’t on purpose. It wasn’t so much that she felt the need to hide it from Wendla – it was simply that it was distressing for her to look at the marks and scars that covered her arms, and she could only imagine how it would make her friend feel. There would be little point in dampening the mood with something like that.

Martha leaned back in the moss, enjoying the feeling of the water at her feet. As Wendla gave a hesitant answer to the question, Martha cocked her head slightly, silently questioning but staying silent. If Wendla wanted to elaborate, she would. And when she did, Martha nodded, understanding even as she tried to turn the conversation back around.

“I’m happy to see you, too! I know what you mean, though. It feels strange not seeing everyone every day, doesn’t it?” It got harder to find freedom during the summer months, when she couldn’t tell her father that she was going to the library to study as a viable excuse. But she was managing, and she would keep managing. She had made a lot of progress this year, and she wasn’t about to stop now.

[colourthehour-blog]

Wendla, upon seeing Martha fidgeting with her sleeves, felt a twinge of anger and rage strike the pit of her stomach. She decided not to bring it up,-- if Martha wanted to talk about it, she would-- but she did wish that Martha didn’t feel the need to hide from her.

Wendla tore her eyes away from Martha’s arms, hoping she hadn’t noticed her staring. Really, it had been very rude of her to look like that.

“It is lovely out, isn’t it?” Wendla said, hoping she sounded genuine. She was thrilled to be seeing Martha again, and it was a beautiful day, she was just also a little distracted. “I’ve been, good, I think.” She paused, wondering if she should elaborate-- she didn’t want to turn the conversation in a negative direction. She remembered then, that it was Martha, and that Martha had always understood. “I’ve just been feeling... A little lonely, lately, I guess.” She shook her head quickly. “It’s silly, I know. But I am very happy to see you!” She finished, beaming.

in the midst of this nothing // thatmustbe

It was nice to be out of the house. She had mumbled some half-excuse to her father, and while he had been angry about it, he didn’t stop her from going out today. She thought Frau Zirschnitz’s comment at Mass yesterday had something to do with it. She had congratulated her father on raising such a good daughter, giving a light laugh. “Girls her age are always out and about. It’s almost unusual to only see her at church! Such a sweet girl. I’m sure she insists on it, but don’t let her work too hard, okay, Abelard?” She had given Martha a wink as she walked away.

It made her smile just to think about it. Adults, as a general rule, weren’t really on her side, so it meant a lot to get even that small gesture. She didn’t think Georg’s mom knew what was really going on, and highly doubted that she’d do anything about it if she did know. As it was, Martha wouldn’t want to put that sort of burden on someone so nice.

Speaking of nice people who really shouldn’t have to worry about Martha’s troubles, she was taken out of her thoughts by a familiar voice calling her name. “Wendla.” She smiled, standing and returning the hug that the other girl gave her. “I’ve been fine! Enjoying the weather.” Well, she had good days and bad days, but that wasn’t something to tell sweet Wendla. This was a good day, and that was the important thing. “How have you been?” Sitting back down by the water, Martha shifted so that Wendla would have room to sit, too, automatically fussing with the sleeves of her light cardigan to hide any marks. Wendla already knew, of course, but it was basically instinct by now.

[colourthehour-blog]

in the midst of this nothing // thatmustbe

Wendla sighed contently, gathering her things-- flowers she’d picked, her blanket, and her jacket (which she had quickly shed after being out in the sun for a short while). She crammed everything into her picnic basket, and stood, brushing the grass off of her legs and promptly skipping down to the stream where she assumed Martha would be.

It only took a moment for Wendla to spot her. She was sitting by the stream, her bare feet resting in the water and her mouth curled up in a genuine smile. Wendla felt her heart swell seeing Martha happy, it was a rarity, or at least, had been in the past.

“Martha!” Wendla called, kicking off her shoes and dashing to the water’s edge. Wendla knelt down and threw her arms around her. “I haven’t seen you in so long!” she began. “How have you been?”

[colourthehour-blog]

flowers & first meetings // allthatisknown

Wendla spread her arms out and twirled, watching her dress billow out around her and giggling as the grass tickled her feet. Times like these were becoming few and far between, and Wendla wanted to make the best of them. The older she got, the more she was surrounded by people, and though she loved people, it got a little overwhelming at times.

Wendla continued to spin, moving faster and faster until she lost balance and fell sideways. She put her arms out to catch herself, but ended up slamming into something-- no --someone. Her flower basket went flying, and she gasped as she knelt down to collect everything.

“I am so sorry! I really should have been paying attention, I didn’t mean to disrupt you!” 

Wendla looked up, finally seeing that the person she’d run into was... Melchior Gabor. Wendla felt her cheeks flush, embarrassed that someone her age had seen what she was doing.

“Um-- I’d better go-- I--“