#I think the mention of her NOT being to Stapylton may contradict other things I've written but I don't have time right this instant to chec

[catkin-morgs-kookaburralover]

@monthly-challenge 2024 | 2. Long Walks

I used this prompt for my original characters, Nathan and Patience: the story is under the cut.

Word count: 1,083

Patience was playing a nocturne when Nathan stuck his head in the door. “Patience, you busy?” he asked as she paused.

“What does it look like?” she chided him lightheartedly, and he had the grace to look somewhat shamefaced.

“Would you come for a walk with me afterwards?” he asked. “While I’m at it—what nocturne is that? It’s a nocturne, right?”

“Yes.” She turned back to the piano. “Chopin. Thirteenth.”

“Ah,” he breathed softly. “It’s beautiful.”

“It is.” After a moment’s pause, she began to play it again. Her touch was light and delicate, her eyes brimful and the occasional hints of power precisely what the piece needed. He stood and listened, watching her strong slender hands leap from key to key, a smile occasionally gracing her mouth. Once she paused to wipe tears from her eyes. The playing was imperfect, but to the eyes of love that watched her all imperfections were smoothed out and it was better than any master. At the end she held still for a moment while the vibrations gently ceased, then got up. “Did you want to go for that walk?” she asked, in a voice as gentle as the music she had been playing.

Nathan smiled at her. “I’d love to,” he agreed, and held out his arm.

She accepted it, holding herself very primly until he laughed, at which point her own facade crumbled. “Oh, you’d make no good fine lady,” he told her. “You’d be laughing at every little thing.”

“Is there a problem with that?” she asked, with a luminous glance at him. “Surely laughter is good.”

“Laughter is a balm to the soul,” Nathan agreed, and picked up her hand to kiss it. As he did so he made eye contact with her. Letting go of her hand, he continued, “I could wax poetic about it, but instead, we can go for a walk.”

“Poetic enough,” she agreed. “Walking brings out all the poetry in you.”

He smiled exuberantly and skipped like a lamb to the door, trying and failing to click his heels for added effect.

Her laugh was like falling water in the background. “I love you.” Then Patience stopped, paused and took a breath. “I—” She wasn’t about to say she didn’t mean it, because she meant it more than she had meant anything for a very long time.

“You what?” he asked, very softly, and watched her.

Patience squirmed under his gaze. “I don’t know what to say,” she admitted. “But I’m never, never, never going to say I don’t love you.”

“Ah!” he breathed triumphantly. “I had hoped so.” They passed through the door, and his fingers brushed hers. She let him take her hand.

Walking hand in hand was a little awkward, but worth the awkwardness. Her cheeks were flushed and Patience told herself it was because of the exercise they had just begun. After a few minutes of sunlit walking Patience let go of his hand, and Nathan glanced at her and picked up the pace. Today she hadn’t brought her camera, so she was glad to stretch her legs more swiftly than usual. Presently she was breathless.

“Are you all right?” asked Nathan calmly, seeming unaffected.

“Yeah—I’m fine, I’m just a dying asthmatic,” she said, laughing breathlessly.

“Good. Tell me if you need us to slow down.”

“Oh, no—no! I love this kind of speed!” They were quickly leaving the beaten track and heading into an area that was wetter, greener and less populated. There were hardly any people around now, and they walked across grass rather than pavement.

“Shall we disappear into the woods?” he asked whimsically.

“‘Woods’ seems the wrong word,” said Patience. “Woods seems a very—well, a very English sort of word, don’t you think? This isn’t all oaky and bluebells and stuff, this is real Australian bush.”

“‘Real’? This is barely the start of it. Have you been into a real wild area, like the Grampians where there aren’t tracks and you aren’t supposed to go but you go anyway?”

“Nope,” she said regretfully. “We’ve barely ever been to the Grampians.”

“Someday I’ll take you there,” he promised. “We’ll walk up Stapylton and scramble Hollow Mountain and look down all the crevices I was too scared to on my own when I was last there, only I’ll feel safe with you. And we can walk and talk and take all the time in the world, and then we can be up top with the wind in our faces and joy in our hearts. How does that sound?”

Patience was enchanted by his glowing-eyed explanation. “That sounds beautiful. I’ve never been up Stapylton; it was too far away from where we were staying.”

“Halls Gap?”

A nod.

“Yeah, no wonder. There are closer mountains in the Wonderland area. Though Stapylton isn’t that far.”

“True, but as you said, there are closer ones. I wanted to go, but Dad said we’d run out of time, and besides, it was too windy.”

“Got to be careful with the wind; I wouldn’t want you to be blown off or something. You’d love the sandstone caves, though.”

“Would I just! I believe you; I’ve heard good things about them. O-oh, Nathan! When can we go?”

It was his turn to be captivated by her. “Anytime you like. I’d take you there tomorrow if I could.”

“I know you would,” she replied charmingly. “For now we should keep walking.” They had paused, staring at one another. “Wouldn’t want to clog up the grass.”

“You make it sound like we’re something from inside a drain or something,” he retorted, grinning. “Dribbling out onto the grass like forgotten socks the washing machine ate.”

Patience stared at him for a moment, then burst out laughing, exclaiming his name as soon as she could speak again. “That’s not what washing machines do!”

“Why do you say that? They might be secretly conspiring to eat your socks. Goodness knows socks go astray.”

“I know they do,” said she, sobering a little, “but they don’t dribble out onto the grass!” Patience covered her mouth, slightly embarrassed by her outburst, but Nathan was grinning.

“Why on earth not? Entertain the idea a moment.”

“I’ve entertained it a moment. Horrifying.”

“You could say that,” he agreed, and grinned again. “Gotcha. One of these days, I’ll make you laugh and you’ll never stop.”

“Listen, I know you meant that to be romantic, but that’s a slightly horrifying idea too.”

“Fair point.”

tagging @stealingmyplaceinthesun @graycedelfin @pilgrimsofworship and @choasuqeen