#if it was like 5 years ago and the old gif maker i’d make a whole set lol

[nanostims]

[katefiction]

One Sweet Day

by katefiction (Maria) / 2014

I had this idea 5 years ago, but not for Will and Kate, just as a random story. It’s nice to have finally written it. I hope you enjoy and let me know if it’s what you expected! ;-) 

Maria x

“A man is not old until regrets take the place of dreams” – John Barrymore 

I am a dying man.

At least, that’s what I’ve been told.

My organs are shutting down, as they have been doing gradually for the past ten years. 84 years is a long time for them to be working away, I don’t blame them for wanting to stop. It’s my heart that’s the biggest trouble maker though. It keeps slowing and refuses to pump the blood around as it should.

It’s the reason why I’m sitting in bed, reading all about my imminent departure from this world in the paper.

The thing about coming to the end of your life is that everyone wants to make you comfortable. They want to wrap you up in bed, as if that will delay the inevitable. It’s the polar opposite of what I want. I want to be seeing all the places I meant to see when I was healthy, and speaking to all the people I kept meaning to stay in touch with. I want to be fixing all the things I messed up.

‘Dad? Can I get you anything?’ My son pops his head around the door and scans me up and down for any sign of distress.

I wave my hand nonchalantly, ‘I haven’t expired yet’ I say a little breathlessly.

‘You’re not funny dad’.

My dad jokes had been thrilling him for 53 years.

‘George, come here, humour your old dad for a few minutes won’t you?’ I put my newspaper down and take off my reading glasses.

He is the spitting image of me, unfortunately. Luckily for him though, the male pattern baldness that has cursed our family for generations skipped him. With a head full of grey hair and at a towering 6ft 5, he cuts quite the dashing figure. Thank God for his mother.

George closes the door behind him and sits down on the chair next to my bed.

‘So what have you been up to today?’ he asks.

‘Let’s see…I woke up, bathed, had breakfast, got back in to bed, had a nap, and now here we are. Living the life, my son’

‘Do you have to be so morose all the time? I’d quite like to remember my father differently’

‘Maybe if my darling children allowed me out of this room from time to time, I would be more chipper’

George squints his eyes, ‘it’s for your own good, you’re not well enough to go gallivanting around’

The door clicks open and we both turn our heads.

‘Hi daddy, how are you today?’ Emma blusters in and kisses both my cheeks.

‘Hello sweetheart’. Despite the fact that Emma is 50, I still see her as my little girl. She still wears her brown hair down to her shoulders, and still flits around ordering everyone around just like she did when she was a child.

‘George and I were just talking about how he’s going to take me to the coast’

Emma sends him a sharp look.

‘No we weren’t!’ George protests.

She softens and starts smoothing down my bed covers, ‘good, we can go for a walk in the grounds if you like’

I grumble. As much as I love Balmoral, and chose it to spend my final days in, there are only so much of its grounds I can see.

‘Oh daddy don’t be like this’, Emma takes my hand.

I sigh, ‘I just don’t see the point of the two of you coming all the way from London if we’re just going to sit here all day, every day’

‘But we want to spend all the time we can with you dad’ George says.

‘You know if mum was here, she’d agree with us’ Emma looks at me with those lovely eyes that are just like her mother’s.

‘You’re mother was a taskmaster’ I laugh.

They glance at each other, clearly pleased to see me laughing.

Emma leans in, ‘how about you tell us about you and mum?’

‘What about us?’ I ask.

‘Oh you know, how you met, why you started dating, everything’

‘I’m sure there’s a book about that somewhere you could read…or twenty’

‘Yes but we want to hear it from you, the real story, don’t we George?’

‘Er…yes’ George says, cottoning on to Emma’s idea to cheer me up.

‘There’s not much to tell, you’ve heard it all before’

‘There must be something we don’t know’

‘Well…I suppose there could be…something you never knew about’

My heart begins to slow. I can feel it sometimes, struggling to push the blood around.

There is an unwritten rule in life that some things should stay private. Especially from your children. But those rules don’t apply on your death bed.  I suddenly understand why people feel the need to confess at the end of their lives. Because if you die without ever revealing something, then it’s almost as if it never happened, or it never mattered.

And she mattered.

I rub my chest to get my breath back.

‘Take your time dad, we’re listening’

St Andrews University, 2001

The first time I saw her, she was walking along the landing in our halls of residence, St Salvador’s (or ‘Sallies’), books in her arms and a look of determination on her face.

She’d obviously been walking pretty fast from the library. Her hair was swept around her shoulders and her cheeks and nose pink from the walk. In contrast, I had just woken up and was only just on my way to breakfast.

The first week of my university life had been spent a) hiding in my room, b) hiding in the library in Sallies, c) hiding amongst the friends that I already knew from Eton. I had resolved that I couldn’t spend the rest of the year (or four years) like this and had a new found determination to make more friends.  There was no time like the present.

‘Er hi’ I said as she rummaged in her bag for her keys. Her room was across the landing from mine and a few doors down.

She turned to face me, ‘hi’. Her subsequent expression was the same one that I’d seen a thousand times. That sudden registration of who I was. ‘Oh’.

I ploughed on, hoping to break the impending awkwardness, ‘I’m Will’.

I thought I saw a twitch on her lips. She knew my name. I knew she knew my name. ‘Catherine, or Kate, whichever. Nice to meet you’. A crimson blush was creeping up her neck and into her cheeks.

I shuffled my feet, ‘you too…so erm…’

Before I could finish, she cut me off, gesturing to her books, ‘I should really get on’

‘Of course, yeh, see you around!’ I waved my arm in the air, then realised how over the top it was to wave at her across the hallway. I pulled it down self-consciously.

‘Have a good day’, she said and scuttled off into her room.

I blew out my cheeks the second she was out of sight. It was hard enough talking to new people, it was even harder talking to girls.

*

The dining hall at Sallies wasn’t your average canteen. With its oak panelled walls and stained glass windows, it looked more like an old court room. It certainly felt like one the first few times I’d entered it. Everyone turned from their long benches when I walked in, and gawped as I made my way to the top of the hall, as if I was a guilty man walking. The table my friends and I sat on was next to ‘High table’, which was used for formal dinners with academics every Thursday night. Each student would get a chance to attend one of these dinners during the year. I had been asked on my first week, but declined the invitation, saying I couldn’t make it that night. In truth, I didn’t want to single myself out so early on.

I sat down next to Oliver, who’d become a good friend.

‘Finally!’ he scoffed, stuffing a piece of toast into his mouth. ‘I thought you were never going to emerge from your cave.’

‘My first lecture is at 11, there was no need to get up’, I said, looking over to the queue to the breakfast buffet.

‘There is if you want to get the pick of the good food in the morning.’ He lowered his voice. ‘Plus all the fit girls eat breakfast early’.

I laughed and scanned the room. There were plenty of good looking girls in Sallies. Coming from an all boy’s school, it should’ve been a feast, but I found myself nervous and suspicious of them all.

‘Kate’s late today’, he said looking over to the breakfast queue.

I turned my head. There was the girl I’d just met, plate in hand, standing alone at the back of the queue.

‘I suppose I’d better start queuing before all the food’s gone’ I said, getting up.

Oliver sniggered, ‘convenient’.

‘What? I only just met her like two minutes ago’

‘Better get in quick, all the good ones get taken in the first term’

I’d heard about the feral hormones that raged in first year halls. Relationships were made, one night stands had and the contagious spread of ‘he did, she did’ gossip was hard to avoid. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to be involved in that, I was a young man after all. Just that I couldn’t afford to have the whole country hear about my bedroom habits for the sake of one night of sex.

‘Hi again’ I said as I got in the line behind Kate.

‘Oh hi’ she said sheepishly.

‘So, early trip to the library was it?’ I asked.

She moved along, picking up pieces of fruit from the platters. ‘I just wanted to get some of the core reading done before lectures start properly’.

She seemed reluctant to look me in the eye and focussed on choosing her breakfast.

‘That’s smart. What are you doing?’

‘History of Art’

‘Oh really? Me too’

She finally looked at me and smiled. ‘I know, I saw you sleeping under your hat in the introductory lecture’

I laughed, ‘I wasn’t asleep, I was just keeping my head down, there were a lot of people there.’

I don’t know what compelled me to be so honest, but despite her nervousness around me, there was something inherently calming about her.

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t realise’ she said, clearly embarrassed.

‘It’s fine, don’t worry. To be honest I didn’t take much of that lecture in’.

We got to the end of the line, both choosing fruit and muesli, and laughed when we looked at each other’s matching plates.

‘Did you want to sit with us? You know Oliver don’t you?’

‘Oh I’m sorry I’m meeting the girls.’ She gestured over to a group of girls who were sitting at a table trying not to look over to us. I recognised a few of them from our floor. ‘But I’ll see you in the lecture later?’

‘Sure, yeah’.

We carried our food to our separate tables and I glanced over to her as we did. Her friends giggled and started interrogating her in hushed tones.

Kate, however, merely shrugged and carried on with her breakfast.

*

I never did see her in that lecture. Well I saw her, but we didn’t speak. In fact, we didn’t speak for the next two weeks.

Love stories are often made out to be lightning bolt moments. That moment where you see a person for the first time and they change your world instantly. It wasn’t like that for me. I’d had girlfriends before who I’d fancied immediately and followed them around like a lost puppy. With her, it was different. I thought she was attractive, of course. Everyone did. But she wasn’t like other girls. She had an air of quiet confidence as she walked around campus or sat in seminars. Yet it was like she didn’t realise she was special.

It was one Autumn evening that I spoke to her again. I was bent over my desk attempting an essay on renaissance art, clicking my pen on and off as I tried to wrap my head around it.

University wasn’t all I’d hoped it would be. I’d made some good friends and experienced the typical student nightlife, but during the day, I struggled to keep up with the work and dozed off during lectures.

I slammed the book shut and let out a frustrated growl. I had a 10 am deadline and had barely written 100 of the 1000 words required. As it was Tuesday, most of my friends had gone out to take advantage of the half price drinks at Ma Bells and I knew if I didn’t finish this soon, I’d have to do it under the noise and chaos of their return from the bar.

It was then that it occurred to me to try and get some help. I’d seen Kate in lectures scribbling down notes for the whole hour while I played noughts and crosses with course mates. I just prayed she hadn’t gone out.

Stepping across the hall, I gave her door a gentle rap. It took me by surprise when I heard a soft ‘come in’ from the other side.

Opening the door, I found her sitting cross legged on her bed, print outs and notes spread across her duvet, and a highlighter in her hand.

‘Oh hey’ she said, looking slightly taken aback to see it was me.

‘Sorry, am I interrupting? You doing that renaissance essay too?’ I said, suddenly feeling incredibly awkward being in her room.

A student bedroom wasn’t like a regular bedroom. I was a place to sleep, eat, work, stress out and hide away. It was like a whole home rolled into one tiny space. With the exception of my extra security measures, Kate’s bedroom was identical to mine. A single bed took up almost the length of one of the walls, and a desk spanned the back wall, with a single window above it. The room also crammed in a wardrobe and a book shelf. Like everyone else, Kate had decorated her room in her own style. Her walls were covered in photographs of people – presumably family and friends – and scenic views. Other than a few books lying around, it was remarkably clean and tidy; a world away from my pig sty of a bedroom.

‘No no, I finished that a couple of days ago, I’m just reading up for the next lecture’

‘Wow’ I said, shocked at her ability to be so organised.

She lifted an eyebrow at me and smiled, ‘sooo, have you done yours?’

I instantly felt at ease at the slight derisiveness in her tone. ‘See, that’s the thing, I was hoping, if you’re not too busy that is, that you could give me some pointers?’

She immediately piled up her notes and put them to one side, ‘what do you need to know?’

Somehow, Kate knew that by ‘pointers’ I really meant that I needed to know everything we’d been taught in our renaissance module.

After collecting my notes and laptop from my room, I sat down opposite her on her bed and we went through my question, ‘How did Giotto liberate Italian painting from the traditional Byzantine style of the early Middle Ages?’

There were four questions to pick from, and unfortunately she’d chosen a different one from me, yet still knew a remarkable amount about the subject.

‘How do you know all this?’ I said, after she described one of Giotto’s paintings to me.

She blushed, ‘I spent some time in Florence in my gap year – am I being a know-it-all?’

‘Not at all’ I laughed.

As she explained her twelve weeks in Florence to me and pointed out the panoramic views of the city on her wall that she’d taken, I noticed a distinct twinkle in her eye.

‘So what did you spend the rest of your gap year doing?’ I asked, relishing the time not talking about myself.

‘Actually, I went to Chile with Raleigh’ she said reluctantly.

‘No way! So did I! Don’t tell me we went at the same time?!’

Any ideas of doing my essay were quickly thrown out the window as we spent the next half an hour talking about our expeditions in Chile. As it turned out, Kate had been there a few weeks after me, but was well aware I’d been. She just hadn’t wanted to bring it up.

‘We should probably crack on’ she said pointing at my laptop after a long conversation about one of the expedition leaders and his tendency to wear the same socks every day.

‘Yes, right’ I said, clearing my throat. ‘Work…right’. I placed my fingers on the keyboard willing them to type something.

‘Here’, she grabbed a scrap piece of paper, ‘it will help to plan it out’. On it she wrote the essay question and highlighted some of the words in her pink highlighter, drawing lines from each of them.

‘So “Giotto”, who was he and why was he important? Then “Byzantine style”, what was this style? Then “liberate”, how did he liberate it, what did he do?’

I sat watching in awe, ‘you make it look so simple’

‘Once you’ve chopped the question up, it is simple’ she smiled. ‘Do a paragraph for each with a few quotes from the textbooks, plus and introduction and conclusion and you’re done. That’ll be good enough for-‘ she looked at her watch ‘-11 pm the night before’.

‘I should probably know how to write an essay by now, shouldn’t I?’ I said, embarrassed that she had to explain it to me.

‘It’s different to school, you’ll get the hang of it. Besides mine might be a load of rubbish’

‘I doubt that very much, you’re far too prepared with your fancy highlighter’

She giggled, ‘here, have it’. She handed the pink highlighter to me. ‘For good luck’.

I used it so much during that year that I only gave it up when the ink ran so dry that it left barely visible scratchy pink lines across my notes.

*

That night marked the beginning of our friendship. We began to walk to lectures together and sit together in the lecture hall. She even managed to get me to concentrate on the odd occasion. But even that wasn’t enough for me to enjoy the subject. As the first term drew to a close, I was having serious doubts about the course I’d chosen, and Kate’s obvious enthusiasm for art history only confirmed my thoughts that it wasn’t for me.

Luckily for me, I’d managed to make a tight knit group of friends who I could trust with my indecision. But it was Kate that convinced me to stick with St Andrews and by the time the second term came around, I was a Geography student.

When we returned that January, everything seemed brighter.

‘It was strange not having you in the lecture today’ Kate said one evening as a group of us huddled over bags of fish and chips in the common room.

‘I can’t say I missed it, present company excluded obviously’

She gave me a small smile, but turned away quickly.

Our friendship was easy and natural, but there was still a part of her I felt I didn’t know. She was open when she was with her girlfriends, but when it came to hanging out with the boys, she held back. She was certainly aware of the effect she had on them, with the amount of offers she’d had. I’d heard through the gossip chain that she’d been on a date with an older student named Rupert just before the Christmas break. She hadn’t mentioned it to me or any of the other boys.

‘You coming out on Thursday?’ Fergus asked me. As a friend from Eton, Fergus and I had maintained a close bond.

‘I’m going to dinner at the High table, I should probably accept this time’

‘So come out afterwards, you’ll need to get pissed to wipe the memory of it, trust me’

Kate turned back around ‘you’re going on Thursday too?’

‘Yeah…you as well?’

She nodded and I grinned. Suddenly the prospect of a formal dinner with academics sounded a lot better.

‘Aww look at you two’ Fergus teased.

‘Shut up’ I said chucking a chip at him.

‘Do you want to go down together’. She looked at me uncomfortably and I stumbled. ‘Just so it’s not as awkward walking in I mean’

‘Oh…ok yeah’ she said, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

Next to me Fergus was sniggering childishly.

Looking back, it was obvious what he knew long before I did.

*

By the time Thursday evening came around, I was back to dreading the dinner. Pulling at my tie, I knocked on Kate’s door.

‘Just a minute!’ she called from inside.

An image flashed through my mind without my consent. One of her getting dressed in her room. In her underwear.  I blinked quickly to swat it away.

‘Hey!’ she said, opening the door. For once, her room was a mess, with clothes and shoes all over the floor. ‘You look smart’.

‘I feel like an idiot, but you look erm…’

She was wearing fitted black dress that went down to her knees and had small thin straps. Compared to the student uniform of jeans and a hoodie, it wasn’t what I was used to. Her hair was straighter than usual too, and seemed bouncy and shiny.

Amazing was what I wanted to say, ‘…erm very formal’

She looked down at herself and pursed her lips, ‘is it too formal?’

‘No no no, that’s good! You look good formal, perfect’.

‘Well that’s alright then’ she said, grabbing a shawl from the back of her door.

When we got to the main hall, academics and fellow students were mingling around looking distinctly awkward while clutching onto their drinks.

‘This looks fun’ Kate whispered sarcastically.

I smirked at her, trying not to laugh. I got us both a glass of champagne and shuffled around the room saying hello to everyone.

When it was time to be seated, me and Kate gravitated towards each other and sat on the far end of the long table with an academic either side of us.

The academics made a point to speak to us all at the dinner table in turn.

‘So William, you’ve changed your course to Geography. I trust you’re finding it easier than your last course?’ a tweed clad lecturer asked me.

‘Well it’s only been a few days, but I think it’s a lot more suited to me. I couldn’t get along with history of art’.

‘You do have to have a certain flair for that subject, not everyone has an eye for the nuances of art’, he took a swig of wine.

At university, I’d learned there were two main types of people. Those who wanted to befriend me at any cost, and those who were vocal in their dismissal of me in an attempt to show how much they didn’t care. That academic was in the latter group.

‘Actually William has a great eye’, Kate suddenly said, before he could speak again. ‘But I imagine Geography will be more of a challenge for him intellectually, not less’.

The academic looked slightly put out and I blushed.

‘Well yes I suppose’ he said grudgingly. ‘So you are enjoying the subject?’

Kate nodded enthusiastically, ‘I love it’.

‘What are your plans after university?’

I noticed how he hadn’t asked me that question, no one ever did.

‘Well at the moment I’d just like to get on with my degree, but maybe if I do well, I’d like to go into curating’.

The academic nodded and muttered something about that being the typical route for art history graduates, but I had stopped listening. I was more interested in watching Kate as she smiled politely, listening to the next student speak.

When the dinner was over, we left the hall at the first given opportunity. As we walked back up the stairs to the bedroom, Kate checked her watch. It was already 10 pm.

‘Thanks for sticking up for me in there’.

‘No problem, he was being a bit of an idiot’ she laughed.

‘At least that’s over and done with now’.

‘Yeah’ She seemed in a hurry to get back to her room, where as I was keen to chat to her for longer.

‘Are you coming out now? I’m meeting the others in town’.

She glanced away, ‘Oh. I’ve made other plans’.

It was clear that she didn’t want to divulge what the plans were or who they were with but a sinking feeling in my stomach told me I probably knew.

We said goodnight and I got changed into jeans and a jumper. A few minutes later after texting Fergus to find out where they were, I headed out onto the green lawns of Sallies quadrangle.

Straight ahead of me, walking towards the gate away from the halls, I saw them. Kate was smiling up at Rupert as he talked animatedly, gesturing with his hands. I heard her laugh ring over the quadrangle as she slipped an arm into his and realised that her dress, the hair and everything else was for his benefit. Not for the dinner’s, and certainly not for mine.

My stomach sunk into my feet.

*

Once I was aware of those feelings, I couldn’t escape them. Every little thing she did made me like her more. The way she got up early to go swimming even when she’d had a late night. When she was so raging drunk that she had to be carried into bed. The way she was so into her studies that even when we all teased her, she still worked harder than all of us combined. And how she would do anything to stop me winning in our tennis matches.

Rupert had become a regular feature at Sallies, and I had gotten used to seeing him around. Not that I was particularly happy about it.

One night after a bar crawl, we were all stumbling to our corridor and Kate was attempting to drag him to her room.

‘I have to go, or I’ll miss my study group in the morning’ he told her.

‘Please please please’ she said, locking her arms around his neck. He held onto her waist to keep her standing.

‘I’ll text you tomorrow’, he seemed completely sober compared to her.

She pouted her bottom lip and attempted to kiss him.

‘Let’s get you to bed’ he said, and wrenched her arms apart.

I hung around in the corridor for the next twenty minutes, where my friends were congregating with pieces of jam and toast to help sober them up.

Rupert came out of Kate’s room not long after and trotted down the stairs without so much as a goodbye.

‘What a dick’ I slurred to no one in particular.

‘Who?’ Fergus said.

‘That bloody Rupert the Bear’.

Fergus laughed, ‘he’s an alright bloke’.

‘No. No.’ I waved my arms around aimlessly. ‘An alright bloke doesn’t say no to her’.

Fergus’ eyes lit up mischievously ‘I fucking knew it!’

‘What? No. It’s not like that. Don’t be a dick’.

He patted me on the back sympathetically, ‘plenty more fish’.

I slumped against the wall. ‘Yeh but but she’s not a fish though’.

‘No, you’re right, gotta respect women – she’s a woman, NOT a fish’.

To my mind the words coming out of my mouth were perfectly sensible, ‘she’s not just a fish, she’s a dolphin, like a really pretty dolphin’.

Fergus nodded gormlessly, ‘right, yeh a dolphin’.

It was when Fergus started making a squeaky dolphin call that I knew it was time to go to bed.

I was more than relieved to break up for Easter if only to get away from Fergus making dolphin noises whenever Kate was around.

*

That April, the trees started blooming in the quadrangle and I was happily settled at St Andrews, and doing a course I enjoyed.

For all of us at Sallies, thoughts had begun to move to what was going to happen next year. For me, it was harder than most, I not only had to find people to live with, but those people had to be ones I trusted. On the first day back after Easter, Fergus, Kate, and her friend Olivia came to me with a proposition.

‘We’ve been talking’ Fergus began. ‘You and I decided we wanted to live together next year right?’

‘Yehhh’

‘And Olivia and I want to live together’ Kate continued.

‘Okay’ I said.

‘So how about we all move in together’ Olivia concluded.

The idea of living with Kate next year had never really crossed my mind. In fact I’d worried that I wasn’t going to see her at all next year.

‘Are you sure you want to live with boys?’ was my first reaction.

Kate laughed. ‘To be honest Will, I think we’ve all left it a bit late. We should’ve started looking in February. I think we’re each other’s best options right now’.

‘I suppose…as long as you’re all comfortable with it’ I was speaking collectively but only looking at Kate.

They all nodded and so it was decided. Within the week, Kate and Olivia had found a little house in Hope Street for us to move into. Once my security had made its checks and plans, the contracts were sent to Kate.

One evening, she came to my room, contract in hand. My room looked like a bomb had hit it and I swept around picking up dirty underwear and socks from the floor. She’d only been to my room a number of times during the year as I tended not to invite anyone in.

‘I hope you’re going to be tidier in the new house’ she joked as I tripped over my desk chair in an attempt to hide the two week old pizza box on my TV.

‘Course, it’s just revision time, you know?’

She tilted her head to one side, ‘I’m joking Will. Though you are a slob’

‘Oh. Yeah I knew that’.

She handed me my contract and made to leave.

‘Is there anything I need to look out for in the contract?’ I asked in a vain attempt to keep her there.

‘Just what you’d expect. If you paint a wall, paint it back when you leave. No pets. Pay for anything you break, that sort of thing.’

‘What about guests staying over?’ I said, my mind formulating a way to ask about Rupert.

‘I think it’s ok as long as they don’t end up living there’

‘Right yeah, so, um, does Rupert mind you living with two guys’. Evidently my attempt to be subtle failed.

Kate blushed and started adjusting her hair, which was in a high bun. ‘We’re not seeing each other anymore’.

If I could’ve floated up to the ceiling I would’ve.

‘Since when?’ I said, trying to sound casual.

‘Oh just before Easter’

‘Sorry’

‘It’s fine. Anyway I better get on’. She said it so quickly that I didn’t get a chance to ask her what happened.

I regarded Kate as one of my closest university friends and yet I couldn’t help feeling a little deflated that she hadn’t already entrusted that information to me. We talked about almost everything together. She teased me when I was being stupid, calmed me down when I was pissed off, and guided me when I was feeling a bit lost. There was still or door that wasn’t open to me, and I knew if I didn’t act soon I would never be let in.

*

Kate now being free and single had a strange effect on me. I was jubilant and yet still reluctant to do anything other than admire her from afar. As far as I could tell, she had no idea how I felt and no feelings for me in return. We continued to hang out as normal in our group, until one night, Olivia and her loose lips changed everything.

It was a raucous post-exam blow out in June and seemed like the whole of Sallies had come out on the quad to celebrate the end of the first year. Streamers, foam and toilet roll covered the trees and grass. Stereos were placed in about ten different windows causing a mass of different music to bounce of the buildings. Alcohol was in plentiful supply and we had a variety of bottles scattered on our section of grass.

Kate and her girlfriends were sat under one of the trees chatting and giggling. I watched as a couple of them got up, leaving just Kate and Olivia hidden by the tree’s canopy of branches.

‘Hi’ I said, walking over and hovering over them awkwardly.

‘Hello’ Kate said and patted the ground next to her, ‘sit’.

I sat down and helped myself to some wine. ‘Having fun?’

‘Yes, apart from we keep getting deserted so those two can go and flirt with the fourth floor lads’ Olivia said.

I looked over to where their two friends were play fighting with some boys over a bowl full of pink liquid that was apparently a cocktail.

‘Do you not fancy some of that fluorescent drink?’ I said to Kate.

‘No thank you!’ she winced.

‘Because you’re a lightweight?’

‘I’m not a lightweight, it just looks disgusting’

I smirked at her as a reminder of the time I had to take her home at 11pm after she had mixed her drinks.

She pulled up a bit of grass and threw it at me, ‘shut up’

‘I don’t believe I said anything’ I laughed.

‘You don’t have to say anything. Your face is annoying’

I spluttered into my wine, ‘my face is annoying?’

‘Yes – you have a smug face’ she clarified.

‘That’s mean. I think I might need to rethink moving in with you’

‘Good’

‘Great’ I threw a wine cork at her and it bounced off her knee.

‘You’re such a child’ she laughed.

‘You started it’ I pulled up some grass and sprinkled it in her hair.

‘That went in my wine!’ she squeaked.

‘As fun as this is, I think I might go mingle’, Olivia stood up abruptly.

I’d forgotten she was even there.

‘Sorry Liv! It’s Will’s fault, stay please’ Kate gave her a winning smile.

‘I think Will would rather have you to himself’ she said, not unkindly.

Kate stopped her protests and went bright red. The smile was wiped off my face too and I stared into my glass.

‘Ooookay, I’ll leave you two to it’ Olivia escaped, looking amused.

We sat quietly until I could think of something to say. I hadn’t realised that Olivia knew how I felt about Kate. In hindsight, it was obvious. The way I buzzed around her. The way she was the only person who I’d get up for to go for an early swim with. The fact that she was the only girl I complimented on nights out.

‘We can swop wines…if yours has grass in it’ I offered wetly.

‘It’s only a couple of blades’ she smiled, but wouldn’t look at me.

Now was my opportunity and I knew it.

‘So that was awkward’

‘Liv can be a bit funny when she’s been drinking’, she said, consciously pulling down the denim skirt she was wearing.

Around us, bodies were falling over and entwining with each other in a messy display of alcohol fuelled passion. I looked at her, wishing I could be that uninhibited at that moment.

‘I don’t mind being alone with you’ I said abruptly.

‘Yeah, it’s fine’ she said, looking around the quad.

‘I mean, I like being alone with you’.

She looked at me, her cheeks turning slightly red to match the colour her lips had become from the wine.

‘I think you’re really cool’ I continued, cringing at my every word. She knew what I was trying to say but wouldn’t take the bait.

‘Thanks’ she said quietly.

‘Do you think that maybe when we get back next semester…I could take you out or something?’

She finally stopped staring into her glass and looked up at me.

I wanted the ground to swallow me up. The look of sympathy on her face was excruciating.

‘I’m really flattered, but um, sorry, but no’

‘No?’

‘I think you’re lovely Will, I really do, but not in that way.’

‘Is it Rupert?’ I asked out of nowhere.

She seemed taken aback, ‘no of course not’

‘Why did you two break up?’ Since I’d already humiliated myself I had nothing to lose.

‘Because he was too busy with uni stuff … it’s not really important though’

I fired off another question, ‘you seemed to really like him’

‘Well yes…but I think I went out with him out of being homesick more than anything. Anyway –‘ she said before I could ask anything more about Rupert. ‘ – I am sorry, I didn’t know that you liked me’

I fidgeted with my glass, ‘I kind of thought you might like me a little bit’

Her body stiffened in surprise, ‘why?’

‘Just how you kind of look away when we’re talking sometimes’

There was that look of sympathy again. ‘I did that because I didn’t want you to think I was flirting. I know how much hassle you get from girls and I really didn’t want you to think I was one of them’

I nodded slowly, ‘well this is embarrassing’.

She put her hand on my knee which didn’t help the situation, ‘let’s just forget about it, I won’t tell anyone’.

‘I think everyone already knows’, I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. ‘Anyway I’m gonna go chat to the boys’.

‘I’m sorry’ she said again as I got up.

‘It’s fine’, I lied.

*

Summer was a welcome break after Kate’s rejection. I spent time at Highgrove and in London, as well as on the polo field. Female company was plentiful, but even when a girl was laughing at my jokes and obviously flirting with me, I couldn’t get Kate out of my head.

She didn’t even have to try to make me like her. She had an ease about her that made me feel at home whenever she was around and I missed that. I had invited all my university friends to Highgrove, but Kate had declined, sending me a simple text to say she was going on holiday.

When we got back to St Andrews in the Autumn, I had no idea how I was going to be around her.

Arriving to our house in Hope Street, I found my housemates in the living room deciding on the position of the television.

‘Finally!’ Fergus said as I walked in. He came over to give me a welcome whack on the back.

Olivia queued behind him and gave me a hug as she said hello. When I got to Kate, she gave me a loose hug with her head turned in the other direction.

‘Good to see you’ she said as she pulled away.

That evening, Kate and Olivia went out to get some Chinese food as Fergus and I stayed in to cart the girls’ boxes up the stairs.

‘What is going on with you two?’ Fergus said as I passed him on the landing.

‘Who?’

‘You and Mother Teresa, who’d you think?’

‘Nothing’ I said shortly, dropping a box of shoes into Olivia’s room.

‘Bullshit. You’ve been avoiding her all day. Spill’, he leant against the bannister.

‘I asked her out alright? And she said no’

Fergus was a hawk when it came to gossip and his face opened up like an excited child, ‘when?’

‘Before the break. Now can you hurry up and get those other boxes’. I was irritable but he knew my breaking point and I was nowhere near it yet.

‘What was her reason?’

‘She doesn’t fancy me, what else’

‘Urgh. So that’s it, you’re not speaking to her now?’

‘I am speaking to her, but I’d rather avoid humiliating myself again’

He ran down the stairs and ran back up with Kate’s radio, ‘oh come on, you two have so much in common’

‘Thanks genius’ I said sarcastically.

‘So why have you given up so easily?’

‘Did you not hear what I just said?’ I ran back down the stairs to pick up another of Olivia’s boxes. I was leaving all Kate’s stuff for Fergus.

‘Oh come on Willy, if at first you don’t succeed…’ he grinned like the Cheshire cat.

‘I’m not trying again!’

‘Mate, stop being a wimp, you said it yourself, you humiliated yourself, you can’t go any lower than that!’

In a twisted way, what he was saying made sense. Kate knew how I felt now, I’d already done the hard bit.

Fergus winked at me conspiratorially. ‘She might’ve changed her mind over the summer, you never know’.

*

Kate hadn’t changed her mind, I found out the next day.

She’d asked me to go on a long walk with her to clear the air. As we walked up the hills of Fife, she spent ten minutes telling me how nice I was and how sorry she was about how insensitively she’d reacted.

‘So there’s no chance you’d want to go on a date then?’ I said with my new found realisation that I had nothing to lose.

The hair was whipping her hair all over her face and she pulled it back, ‘no, but I love you as a friend, I really do!’

‘Thing is Kate, we have a lot in common, don’t you think it’d be a shame not to try?’

She looked a little surprised but kept her trademark composure, ‘I don’t want to lead you on’.

‘You wouldn’t be because I know how you feel – or don’t feel’ I offered.

She tucked some strands behind her ear which immediately became loose. ‘We have to live together, let’s not ruin that’.

‘If it doesn’t work out, that’s fine’ I said.

She looked at me through her dark lashes, ‘I’m sorry’, she said, cutting the conversation short.

I was beginning to hate the sound of that word.

*

The thing about Kate was that she was extremely popular with the boys. When we went out she would get multiple offers, and said no to all of them.

On the week we came back to university, a large group of us met at Ma Bells for a bar crawl. Kate was wearing jeans and a strappy black top, with her trademark hair curling down her back. I did my best not to stare at her.

The place was packed, full of freshers who were already half cut. As we stood at the bar attempting to buy some drinks, one of the drunken guys clambered up to Kate.

‘Can I get you a drink?’ he said, his glass of beer splashing over his hand.

‘No thank you’ she said and turned her gaze back to the bar.

‘Come oooon. It’s a free drink!’ he placed his arm around her waist and she shrugged him off.

‘I said no’ she said, more sternly this time. ‘Please don’t touch me’.

‘Whatever Morticia’ as he walked away, his hand grazed along her bum.

She turned and tried to slap his hand away but missed. He laughed in her face and carried on walking.

My heart pounded with anger and I pushed myself off the bar with the intention of grabbing him by the shoulder and forcing him to apologise.

A warm hand landed on my forearm and stopped me before I could get anywhere near him.

‘Leave it. Please’ she said.

‘He’s a…’ I started.

‘A caveman, I know. But you don’t need to be in the papers for having a bar fight. At least not in the first week back’. Despite the noise in the room, her voice was gentle. ‘I appreciate it though, thank you’.

I held onto her green eyes for a fraction longer than I should’ve before nodding.

That night taught me two things. One. That Kate wasn’t just a friend. She was a best friend who would protect my reputation above herself. Two. That every other guy in St Andrews would never treat her as well as I would.

And I was determined to prove it.

*

The following day I asked Kate on a date again. She said no.

And so on the following day I asked her once more. She said, regretfully, no again.

A week on I found an advert in a newspaper for an opera that was coming to Fife. I knew she liked opera, so tore it out and scribbled ‘you and me?’ on it. I slipped it under her door one evening. In the morning I found it on the floor next to my door with ‘You, me, Fergus and Liv?’ written on it with a smiley face.

We went back and forth like that for weeks, with her saying no in the most polite way she could to every idea I had. But even she had a limit to her patience.

By the end of October, and on average, after five requests for a date every week for a month, Kate had stopped being so gracious and had stopped apologising for rejecting me. Instead she’d reply to my texts with You know this is classed as harassment, don’t you? or No thanks stalker.

I liked it better that way.

Late one evening I lay in bed unable to sleep and shot her a text.

You awake?

A reply came a few seconds later.

Yes.

What you doing?

Reading.

Can I come and read with you?

No you can’t.

Liv and Fergus won’t hear.

No.

There’s an old book store in town, it sells antique books and stuff.

I know, I keep meaning to visit that place.

Shall we go together?

In a purely platonic way, then yes.

Great, I love books.

Course you do.

I do!

I don’t think I’ve seen you reading for pleasure in the whole time I’ve known you.

I do it in secret. I’m quite brooding and mysterious like that.

LOL.

Why is that funny?

Go to sleep William.

That weekend the two of us visited the book store, Bouquiniste in town. It was a cold October day and Kate was wrapped up in a big coat and red scarf. I teased her about overdoing the winter gear but resisted the urge to tell her she actually looked quite cute.

Bouquiniste was shabby from the outside with a worn out sign and books covering the windows. When we got inside, it was as dark and dusty as expected, but Kate seemed to love it.

The shop keeper gave us a quick hello from behind the counter and carried on reading her book. For a small shop, it crammed a lot in to its three aisles that spanned the width of the space. After walking down each aisle, we ended up at the back of the shop in the classics section.

‘Oooh Emma!’ Kate whispered.

I turned around looking for the source of Kate’s excitement, ‘who?’

She laughed quietly. ‘Emma…you know the book?’

I looked at her blankly.

‘Jane Austen?’ she added.

‘I know who that is!’ I said triumphantly.

She rolled her eyes, ‘Emma is one of her books. It’s my favourite Austen. And this copy is Victorian, isn’t it gorgeous?’

She handed me the book which was slightly tattered and covered in a deep red patterned leather jacket.

I sniffed it and coughed, ‘it’s a bit musty. Is it a first edition?’

‘William!’ she said in scandalised hushed tones. ‘Jane Austen was not from the Victorian era, honestly, you have so much to learn’.

‘Maybe I could have a private Austen lesson from you?’

She rolled her eyes again and put the book back carefully.

‘Is that a yes?’ I asked as we moved along the shelves.

‘You know it’s not a yes’, she said trying to hide a smile.

‘I don’t know why you’re being so stubborn about this’ I said, pretending to look at an old art book on the shelf.

‘I don’t know why you’re being so persistent’ she said in return.

‘I thought that was obvious actually’ I laughed drily.

She shook her head and turned away.

‘It would be so much easier if you just said yes you know’

‘Or you could just stop asking me’

‘Am I really that repulsive?’ I looked at her, pretending to be sad and she hit me lightly on the shoulder.

‘I’m not looking for anything like that from anyone right now’

‘So we can just go on a date! I’m not asking you to marry me’ I realised that I was acting like an annoying child, but it seemed to be working.

‘You don’t give up do you?’

I grinned widely. ‘How about this. You let me take you out on one date, and by the end, if you’re still not interested, I’ll admit defeat. I won’t ask you out ever again.’

I watched her as she mulled it over, scanning my face with her curious green eyes.

‘It’s going to be a long couple of years otherwise’ I added for good measure.

‘Alright fine!’

‘Really?!’ I don’t know who was more surprised, her or me.

‘Yes, but you have to promise you’ll stop after the date. And it’s only one date’ she said, pointing at me like I was a naughty child.

‘I promise. You never know, you might come back for more’

‘Shut up’ she laughed. ‘We’ll never get your head back through the door at this rate’.

*

All my intentions of knuckling down to study that week were quickly forgotten. We had set a date for the following Friday which gave me a few days to prepare.

Unfortunately for me – and for Kate – going on a date to a restaurant wasn’t realistic for me and so I had to be a little more inventive. There came the benefit of being friends; I knew what she liked and didn’t like and could create a date purely aimed for her.

By the time Friday rolled around, all I had told Kate was that she needed to wrap up warm and wear some walking shoes.

‘So where are we going?’ she asked, eyeing up the big backpack I was wearing as we got into my car.

‘You’ll have to wait and see’ I smiled as I put the bag in the boot.

‘I’m guessing we’re going on a hike? That or we’re leaving the country, what on earth is in that bag?’ she asked.

‘So many questions! Just enjoy the drive’ I started the ignition and made my way out of St Andrews.

The entire duration of our twenty minute drive was spent with Kate interrogating me about our destination. Unfortunately, she was astute enough to realise we were driving to the coast and that we’d be going hill walking when we got there.

‘Eleven o’ clock is quite early for a date, you know?’ she said as we approached Anstruther.

‘Hey, you said we could go on one date, you didn’t specify any time limit! I’m taking advantage of the opportunity’. I glanced in her direction and was pleased to see she was smiling.

I parked up on a scenic spot on the sea front and we headed out on the coastal trail.

‘Do you want me to carry any of that? I feel kind of bad that I’m not carrying anything’ Kate asked, looking at the backpack again.

‘I’ve got it thanks. And if that’s your way of finding out what’s in here, then try harder’

She narrowed her eyes at me and gave up.

Over the next hour we wove our way around the coast line of the small fishing village of Anstruther. Avoiding the harbour with its shops and cafes, we kept to the walking trail which was flat, but slightly rocky at times. Nevertheless, it was away from the main part of the village, which was exactly what I wanted.

The two of us chatted easily as we walked about the village, university and home. Truth be told, I hadn’t planned the conversations out like I had everything else and the line between a date and two friends going for a walk was blurry.

‘So, you still thinking of curating after uni?’ I asked, trying to steer the date into less familiar territory.

‘I think so’ she said, kicking some stones along the shore as she went. ‘I’d love to work with art every day. You know, set up exhibitions, get people engaged with it and stuff. I think it can come across kind of stuffy and pretentious’.

‘You’re telling me!’ I scoffed.

‘Will…why did you even take History of Art? I’ve kind of always wondered’

‘Because I didn’t know what else would be…useful. For my future, I mean’, I flinched thinking about the tense conversation I had with my father when I decided to drop the course.

‘It just seems so unsuited to you now, sometimes I can’t believe you even took it’, she looked up and smiled at me sweetly.

‘I know I know. At least I fixed it before it was too late’.

She hesitated for a moment and then carried on talking, ‘what do you think you’ll do after uni?’

How refreshing it was to have someone ask me that, and how happy I was that it was her asking.

‘Go into the army I suppose. Until…until I can’t anymore’. I stopped short. I hated thinking about my life after university.

‘What would you like to do, if things were different?’ she asked softly.

‘You mean if I were normal?’ I said sarcastically.

‘No’ she said plainly. ‘I mean if your life was normal. You’re already pretty normal from where I’m standing’

I held back on grinning like an idiot and concentrated on answering the question, ‘I’d want to do something that was making a difference, something with conservation in Africa if I could, or a paramedic even’

‘Those are two pretty different jobs’ she laughed.

‘You know what I’m getting at though…don’t you?’

‘I do’, she said placing her hand on my arm. For a moment I thought she was going to hook it in the crook of my arm like she did with Rupert. ‘You want to be able to make use of yourself for the greater good, that’s pretty cool’.

‘Shame I won’t get the chance’ I said, raising my eyebrows.

‘What do you mean?’ she said, suddenly animated. ‘You’re going to have an amazing opportunity to be a voice for all of this stuff’

‘I’d like to be more than a voice’ I said resentfully.

‘Oh Will, stop!’

She meant it metaphorically, but I did so physically, halting on the shore. She did the same and turned to me.

‘I know your future is really scary – God knows I couldn’t do it – but you have the biggest platform anyone could hope for. You’re going to be able to give all of the things a step up. So maybe you won’t be able to work with the animals in Africa, but you’ll be able to tell the WHOLE WORLD about it and they’ll listen!’

She gesticulated wildly with her hands.

‘You really think people will listen to me?’ I said cynically.

‘Well not at the moment no. Maybe when you grow up a bit though’. She shrugged and began climbing some rocks.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ I called to her, clambering behind.

She turned and grinned wickedly at me.

‘Are you just trying to wind me up?’ I said, exasperated.

‘Maybe – or maybe I’m just trying to show you the positive’. She plopped herself down onto a rock. ‘I’m kind of hungry’.

‘You don’t take any bullshit, do you’ I said, sitting next to her.

‘Not really’ she leant her head on her knees. ‘Does it make you like me less?’

‘Nope. More.’

*

Kate was delighted to find that some of the items in my bag were two bowls, two spoons, some bread, and a thermal flask full of tomato soup.

‘Did you make that?’ she asked as I poured a generous portion into her bowl.

‘What do you think?’

‘You never know!’ she laughed.

‘I didn’t have time to take cooking lessons this week, otherwise I would’ve’.

She patted my knee, ‘this is fine’.

‘Maybe on our next date I’ll cook for you’ I sniggered, but she merely looked at me sideways while she ate a piece of bread.

When lunch was done with, I slipped a baseball cap on to disguise myself and we wondered back into the village to have a look around. It was a fairly cold November day and it almost felt like we had the place to ourselves.

‘So is this a good date so far?’ I asked her.

‘Pretty good, yes’.

‘The best you’ve ever been on?’ I ventured.

‘Ask me when it’s over’ she laughed.

There wasn’t a lot to see in the village other than a few shops so we decided to go into the most touristy shop we could find.

The shop was covered in tartan paraphernalia, from bags to hats and umbrellas.

‘I should get that for my brother’ I joked, pointing at a tartan hat that had long ginger hair attached to it.

Kate laughed and browsed through a rack of cheap kilts, ‘you should wear one of these’.

‘I don’t think I’ve got the legs’.

‘Course you have, every man looks good in a kilt’, she held a pink and green one up to my waist.

I took a step towards her, ‘even me?’

I thought I saw her blush and she put the kilt down, ‘even you’.

After walking around the shop, we ended up at the confectionary counter where they were selling local sweets and fudge.

‘That looks yummy’ Kate said, and she bent down to survey the different flavours, ‘shall we get some for the house?’

We chose a selection of clotted cream, strawberry and vanilla and I insisted on paying for it as Kate looked at the boiled sweets.

When we left the shop, I handed her a small paper bag of fudge.

‘Are we going to eat it all before we get home?’

‘No, this one is just for you’

She opened it to find chunky cubes of chocolate and mint fudge. ‘How did you know I like chocolate and mint?’ she asked, beaming.

‘I pay attention to you’

‘Oh. Well thank you, that’s very sweet of you’, she handed me a piece and we went back to find a secluded area on the shore to sit.

For the next couple of hours, we simply sat and talked while polishing off the bag of fudge. We talked about our families and the weird traditions we had at Christmas. I laughed at the thought of her father dressed up in various costumes as their Christmas day tradition. Kate laughed as I described some of the gifts my brother and I had bought my grandmother over the years.

We talked about children – Kate wanted three, and I wanted two.

We even talked about exes, and why they were exes.

‘You know you’re very dear to me, don’t you?’ she said after we discussed which exes we were still friends with.

‘But not in a “you’re hot” way?’

She rested her head on my shoulder, ‘in a “you’re an awesome friend and always will be” kind of way’.

‘I suppose I’ll take that’ I leant my cheek against the top of her head.

For all my trying, a second date wasn’t looking hopeful. Yet being in her company, separated from everyone else was enough in that moment.

‘Are you ready for dinner?’ I said after a few moments, noticing she was closing her eyes.

The sun was beginning to set and it was going to get pretty cold, despite it only being five o’ clock.

She popped her head up, ‘there’s dinner too?’

‘I told you I was taking advantage of the time with you didn’t I?’ I stood up and reached out to pull her up.

We walked up to the harbour again and found the place I’d looked up online.

‘Ansthruser Fish Bar’ she said, ‘are we having fish and chips?!’

‘We are, if that’s ok with you? This place is award winning apparently’

‘I love fish and chips!’ she said as if she wasn’t expecting a fish and chip shop in a fishing village.

‘I know Kate’.

When we got back to our spot, the tide had stared to roll in, so we placed ourselves on a grassy bank higher up.

‘Hold on’ I said as Kate began to sit down.

I opened up my bag and pulled out a picnic blanket and three candles that I’d stolen from next to our bath.

‘Are those Liv’s candles?’ Kate laughed.

‘She won’t miss them’. I placed them in a line along the blanket and lit them all with a lighter.

‘You thought of everything didn’t you?’ she said as she sat down and carefully unwrapped the fish and chips.

‘This is my attempt at romance’. I pulled out a bottle of red wine from the bag and two plastic glasses.

She laughed when she saw it and remarked that I was like Mary Poppins.

As the dusk settled, we ate our dinner in a comfortable silence. When Kate pulled her sleeves down to cover her cold hands, I dug around my bag to find the blanket I’d packed for that very possibility.

I placed it on her lap and she let out a quiet ‘oh’ of surprise.

‘Have you had a good day?’ I said slightly out of sorts. She was looking at me in a very odd way.

‘It’s been lovely Will, really’.

We sat looking at each other for a moment as I thought of something clever to say. She really was very pretty.

‘The candle’

‘What?’ I said, breaking the moment.

‘The candle!’ she launched up, throwing everything off her.

One of the candles was lying on its side having fallen over. It was quickly catching onto the threads of the picnic blanket.

Kate acted immediately, stomping on the small fire until it was extinguished.

‘Well that was a disastrous end!’ I said blowing out the other ones.

‘It was an eventful end.’ She laughed. ‘And in answer to your question before, I suppose, yes it is.’

*

It took me some time to figure out what she had meant by that statement. I ploughed through our conversations from the date, until, finally I accepted that she meant that it was the best date she’d been on. I tried not to look too much into it. Kate had made it clear that she only liked me as a friend and I had accepted it.

I kept to my promise and didn’t ask her out again, but couldn’t help flirting with her in the week that followed our date. I was pushing my luck, I knew, but to my surprise, she didn’t resist as much as she had before.  When I complimented her, she no longer accused me of trying to woo her. And when I held onto her waist as I squeezed past her in our small kitchen, she didn’t seem to mind. She even let me monopolise her time when we went out, as we danced until the early hours.

On one particular Friday, the four of us staggered back into the house at four am.

‘It’s freezing!’ Olivia squealed, throwing her bag on the couch. ‘I’m putting the heating on’

‘The radiators need bleeding, it’s not going to make much of a difference’ Kate said, kicking her heels off.

‘Why haven’t you boys done anything about it!’ Olivia shouted from the kitchen, where she was attempting to work out the central heating switch.

‘Why should we do it?!’ Fergus said, collapsed on the floor.

‘That’s very sexist Liv’ I laughed.

She popped her head around the kitchen doorway, ‘just because you don’t know how to do it’

‘Course I do!’

Kate laughed quietly and I immediately felt the need to prove myself. Most people assumed that I was useless around the house, and for the most part they were right. I couldn’t cook, hated cleaning and Kate had to teach me how to use a washing machine. But I was resourceful.

‘What you laughing at?’ I said, poking her in ribs.

‘Nothing’ she said, slapping my finger away.

‘Fine, I’ll do yours first!’ I grabbed radiator key from under the sink and legged it up the stairs and into her room.

The three of them ran after me and watched as I knelt down next to her radiator. I slotted the key onto the screw and attempted to turn it.

‘Erm do you know what you’re doing?’ Fergus asked from the doorway.

‘Yeh!’ I said slightly too loudly as I struggled to turn the key, ‘the air just needs to come out’

After a minute of me struggling with it, Fergus and Olivia gave up on me and left to go to bed. Kate stood behind me looking concerned.

‘It’s fine Wi –‘ she began just as I wrenched the screw.

‘ARGH!’. Boiling hot water came spilling from the side of the radiator and onto my hand. ‘FUCKING HELL!’

The pain seared across my hand and I shook it manically. ‘GOD THAT HURTS!’

Kate ran out of the room and was back within seconds with a bowl of cool water and a flannel. ‘Come here’, she ordered.

I sat on the edge of her bed and she dipped the flannel in the water and squeezed the water over the back of my hand. She continued to do it in silence, dousing my hand with the water.

‘Maybe you shouldn’t have done that with the central heating on’ she said.

‘Sorry’ I mumbled.

‘It’s ok’ she gave the top of my hand a little stroke.

‘You know, you’ll make a good wife to someone one day’ I said. ‘Though not to me’

She smiled, ‘well you’ll make a good husband too. When you learn how to do manly things around the house’

‘And maybe I should work on my first dates too’

‘Your first date skills are fine’

‘Because it was your best date ever?’

‘Well yes’ she said, focusing on my hand.

‘But not good enough for another one?’

Kate bit her lip and avoided making eye contact with me, ‘mmm’.

‘Mmm? What does that mean?’

‘Nothing…’ I could almost see the cogs turning in her head. ‘I just wouldn’t mind if there was another one’.

I stopped short and gaped at her. ‘Are you serious?’

She said nothing but her cheeks were turning pink.

‘You want to go out with me again?’

‘Maybe’

‘Maybe? MAYBE?!’ I roared with laughter.

‘Shhhh!’

Suddenly the pain in my hand disappeared. ‘I can’t believe after all that, you ACTUALLY want to go out with me. I thought you weren’t interested?’

‘I changed my mind’ she said.

‘Why?’. The grin was plastered onto my face.

‘Because you’re sweet…and you take notice of things. And you’re persistent’

‘I thought that annoyed you?’

‘It did. It does’ she laughed. ‘But it was also quite nice in a way’

‘Do you fancy me Kate?’ I challenged, because I wanted to hear her say it.

She rolled her eyes, so I poked her in the ribs again with my good hand.

‘Do you do you do you?’ I continued poking until she physically had to push me away.

‘Yes! Ok? Yes’.

*

That night marked the beginning of our relationship. The friendship that we’d carved over the past year had given us the foundation for what would become some of the happiest years of my life. But even stuck in our little bubble of St Andrews, I was determined to protect her from everything that came from being my girlfriend.

For the first few months, we’d go out with friends in tow. At the cinema, we would all go in huddled together, but once inside the room, Kate and I would sit at the end of the row discreetly holding hands in the dark.

It wasn’t so easy to be affectionate elsewhere, but we made do with friendly cuddles and a kiss on the cheek when we met for coffee after lectures.

Our first kiss didn’t need to be so discreet. We had stayed in one evening in early December while Olivia and Fergus took advantage of the cheap pre-Christmas drink deals at Ma Bells. We were grateful for the time alone that had so far been confined to one of our bedrooms with our housemates wolf whistling through the door.

Kate had taken over the spaghetti bolognaise that I had attempted for our fourth date, and was gently stirring the mince in a new pan as I scraped the burnt remains off the first one in the sink.

‘Leave it to soak, it will come off easier later’, she said, a hint of amusement in her voice.

I threw the scourer onto the draining board, filled the pan with water and huffed.

‘It might need a squirt of Fairy Liquid too’ she said carefully.

I grabbed the washing up liquid and squirted a generous amount into the water without saying a word.

‘There’s no need to sulk’ Kate giggled.

‘I’m not sulking, I’m just pissed off it went wrong AGAIN’, I glared at the floor, thinking of the two other dinners I’d ruined recently.

‘To be fair, you were just not concentrating, it would’ve been ok if you kept stirring it’

‘Yeah well I got distracted’ I said.

‘By what?’

‘By looking at you’

‘Oh so it’s my fault now is it?!’, she carried on stirring with one hand, but used the other to smack me with a tea towel.

‘Yes, I was deep in thought’

‘About what…or do I not want to know?’

‘About how I’d like to kiss you but I don’t know if you want to kiss me’

She stopped stirring and a smile crept across her mouth, ‘why don’t you try and find out’

Heart thumping, I walked over to her and leant down. She didn’t look up from the cooker until I’d given her a peck on the lips. When I did it again, she responded, settling her face into mine. Her lips were as soft as I’d imagined and her scent was one that I only could identify when I got that close to her. Raspberries.

I removed her hand from where it was clasped around the wooden spoon and locked my fingers into hers.

It was as if everything had slotted neatly into place.

*

Our relationship wasn’t one of huge public displays of affection or massive passionate breaks ups and make ups. It was a deep and comfortable connection that no one could rival.

She was the person I could talk to about anything, knowing that she would understand my need to go over things over and over again. She was patient and kind, but was never shy in putting me in my place.

Falling in love with her had crept up on me.

In our third year, we had move out of Hope Street and into a more remote cottage just out of town. It gave us the opportunity to take long walks in the countryside, spending hours talking until it got dark. The realisation that I loved her came after one of these walks when Kate was curled up in my bed having fallen asleep while we were watching a film.

Her hair was fanned across the pillow and her fingers were curling in and out of her palm. I wondered what she was dreaming about. I suddenly realised that I wanted it to be like that for the rest of my life. I wanted to see her every morning and talk about what we’d dreamed about the night before. I wanted her to fall asleep next to me every day and subconsciously nestle into my side like she often did in the middle of the night.

Words were not my forte, however.

The following day, I went out to buy a card for our first anniversary. Throwing out any formalities, I just wrote ‘love you’ on a postcard of Anstruther that I’d found in the newsagents.

‘Here you go’ I said, giving her the postcard and kissing her in the kitchen later. ‘Happy anniversary’.

There was the smell of something chocolatey coming from the oven.

‘Aww thank you’ she said taking it and laughing at the postcard without reading the back. She placed it down on the counter. ‘I know we said no gifts but I thought I’d bake you something’.

She opened the oven and pulled out a tray of brownies. My postcard suddenly looked very lacklustre.

I thanked her and we engaged in a long cuddle. ‘Are you going to read the card?’, I said, mumbling into her hair.

She looked up at me suspiciously, and untangled an arm to grab the postcard. I watched her face turn from amusement to surprise as she read the back.

‘You don’t have to say it back’ I jumped in as she was about to speak.

‘Don’t you want me to?’ she said.

‘Course I do, just…no pressure’.

‘I love you too’ she said shyly.

They were the words I never thought I’d hear from a woman, let alone a woman like her.

*

While Kate continued to study hard for her degree, I left all the academic work until the last minute, preferring instead to play sports or go out and get drunk. University for me was a once in a lifetime experience. I was well aware that this level of freedom would never come my way again and I was determined to exploit it.

Kate would often remark that I still acted like a fresher well into our final year. She on the other hand was mature beyond her years. She had plans for everything; colour coded charts and lists upon lists of things she had to do. I encouraged her to be more spontaneous, and would often take her to the coast at a minute’s notice just to break the cycle.

On a January day in our final year, she was holed up in her bedroom working on her draft introduction for her dissertation. Her tutor had wanted it the following day and she’d spent days poring over each of the 2000 words.

‘Do you want to get some air?’ I said, appearing at her door with a cup of tea.

She was sat in her usual position, cross legged on her bed, with her notes and laptop in an ordered chaos around her.

‘I need to get this done’, she said without looking up, her eyebrows furrowed.

‘How many drafts have you done of this draft?’ I laughed.

She didn’t find it funny and merely shook her head.

I sat next to her, being careful not to mess up her notes and rubbed her back, ‘come on, it’s only the introduction, you’ve got months to change it. He just wants to see you’ve made a start’

‘How can you be so relaxed about it?’

‘Because it’s not a big deal’ I said.

‘It is to me’ she snapped.

‘It’s our last few months, we should be enjoying it’

‘I came to university to get a good degree, not to get wasted every night’ she didn’t look at me but she didn’t need to.

‘Fine’ I growled, placing the tea on her bedside table, and left the room.

It was our first proper argument, and the first one that I didn’t give in on. Late that night, she crept into my room and burrowed under the covers.

‘Have you finished it?’ I asked, still wide awake.

‘Yep. Finally’ she whispered.

We lay next to each other for the best part of fifteen minutes, listening to the ticking of my clock.

‘I’m sorry’ she finally said. ‘I love you.’

I tuned over and pulled her close. That was the thing about Kate; she had me wrapped around her little finger. Even for someone as stubborn as me, I couldn’t remain angry with her. I was firmly under her spell.

*

In our final months at St Andrews, we spent as much time as we could together. Naturally, all talk in our house turned to the dreaded post-uni plans. With Fergus, Olivia and many of our other friends deciding on masters or jobs to apply for, I shied away from the question.

That is with everyone apart from Kate. We talked at length about the future as individuals and as a couple. She worried that we wouldn’t get to see each other after we left Scotland, and secretly I worried about it too. We talked for hours, trying to plan how and when we would see each other and how we could keep it quiet from the media. The constant conversations exhausted us both and we began to get frustrated that there was no simple answer.

It was something that consumed us over those final months. Each time we spoke about it, we left it unresolved to the extent that we began avoiding it all together.

The issue only came up again one evening during a rowdy dinner party we’d thrown. Kate was sat on the staircase alone as the rest of our group of ten chatted noisily in the living room.

‘What you doing over here?’ I asked, taking a seat next to her.

‘Just taking some time out’. She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

I took her hand, ‘what’s wrong?’

‘I’m just scared of things changing’

‘They don’t have to’ I said, resting my chin on her head.

‘What about in the future? Like years into the future?’ she said suddenly. ‘What will be expected of me?’

Conversations about our future was usually reserved for the immediate future, not years in advance. I thought carefully about what to say.

‘Well you’ll be expected to be a kind of support to me. But you can do whatever you want’ I added.

‘Are you sure about that?’ she looked at the ground.

‘Remember what you said on our first date? That I have the opportunity to support so many things. It’ll be the same for you…and you’ll be amazing at it, if it’s what you want of course?’

‘I want you’. It didn’t pass me by that she had avoided the question.

‘What about when the press find out about us. When they find out where I live, where I work…’

‘We can cross that bridge when we come to it. I’m going to look after you, don’t worry’, I smoothed down a wayward piece of her hair.

‘There’s this graduate traineeship I’ve seen, for curating’ she said, changing the subject.

‘Oh yeah?’

‘Yeah, it’s for two years. It looks pretty amazing’

I kissed her on the head, ‘you should apply for it, sounds perfect for you’

Curating was something Kate had talked about since our first year and it was an idea that she’d become more passionate about during her degree. Her enthusiasm for it was something that I was often jealous of; because I knew she could turn her passion into a career and I couldn’t.

She leant into me and sighed.

A hint of something twisted in my stomach; a reaction that I tried to ignore and push aside.

It was dread.

*

The final week of university was bittersweet.

My plan was to get some work experience at different places and then make a decision on what route to take. But my eagerness to begin my adult life properly was tinged with the knowledge that the best few years of my life were about to come to an end. I was going to miss my friends, who had become like a second family. I was going to miss the seclusion of St Andrews and the agreement with the media to leave me alone. But most of all, I was going to miss her.

We savoured the moments that we could see each other every day and took advantage of not having to plan the times that we saw each other. But the days seemed to pass so fast that even when we were together twenty-four seven, it didn’t feel like it was enough.

Bored of packing my room up, one afternoon, I went to distract Kate.

She was knelt on her bedroom floor carefully wrapping up some photo frames in bubble wrap.

‘That was an awesome night’ I said, pointing at a picture of her and I at a ball last year. I was wearing a suit, and she had on a little black wrap dress. She had danced me under the table that night.

She smiled sadly at the picture and wrapped it up, ‘there’s been a lot of awesome nights. I can’t imagine having so much fun over the last four years if you had left in first year’.

I sat down on the end of her bed, wrapping my legs around her. ‘I doubt I would’ve stayed if you weren’t here’.

She tilted her head up and began to speak, but noises of clattering from downstairs where Olivia was packing her kitchen stuff stopped her.

‘Shall we go for a walk?’ she said.

It was a warm May afternoon and with exams over, everything and everyone seemed more relaxed; even the Scottish weather.

We strolled hand in hand to our favourite isolated spot half a mile from the house, when she began to slow down.

‘I need to talk to you’. The tone in her voice was suddenly grave.

‘Ok’

‘I’ve been given a conditional offer for that traineeship’ she said.

I lit up immediately, ‘that’s amazing!’ I said, grabbing her into a hug.

She let me and then pulled away, ‘as long as I get a 2:1 or above, I’m on it’.

‘Brilliant, that’ll be no problem for you then’, I couldn’t disguise my pride at her achievement.

‘The thing is, it’s not all in the UK’

The atmosphere dropped around us, ‘where…’

‘There’ll be a few months in London, and then I go to Moscow, then Madrid, and Venice’

‘Wow, well I’ll miss you, but it’ll be an amazing experience, and you’ll come home often won’t you?’

She didn’t say anything and just looked into the distance.

‘Won’t you?’ I repeated.

‘It’s for two years with a possible proper job at the end of it’

‘What are you trying to say?’

‘I don’t think this…us…will work.’

I laughed but it came out sounding strained ‘we’ve talked about this, we can make it work.’

‘How? If I take this traineeship, we’ll be apart for two years, and when I come back I’ll get a job I love. Then what? I give it all up?’ Her face was set in an agonising expression.

‘Look, all that will happen when we get married. Before that, you can do whatever you want! You’ll have years before that’.

She remained unconvinced.

‘I thought you loved me’ I said, petulantly.

‘I do!’ she said, offended. ‘It’s just I’ve worked hard for the past four years….’

She didn’t have to continue because I understood what she meant. This is what she had been working towards for four years. The late nights, the stress, the argument we’d had; it was all building up to the moment she left university.

And I was asking her to put it all to one side for me.

Kate was everything I ever wanted and more. The problem was that ‘more’ didn’t include me.

‘Please don’t do this’ I said, feebly attempting to change her mind. ‘Go, enjoy it, but we don’t need to break up’

‘I think we do’

‘But WHY!?’ I said, almost shouting.

‘Because I’m not sure, and it’d be unfair to you to be not sure’, tears were pushing up into her eyes.

‘You’re not sure about me?’

‘Of course I’m sure about you. But I’m not sure that I could be totally happy living that life. I’m not sure I would be able to do it. Maybe in a few years that would change. But right now, I can’t keep wasting your time and pretending I’d be ok with it. Because I don’t know if I’m ok with it.’

I couldn’t argue with that. Who was I to hold her back, to ask her to commit herself to a life she didn’t want.

She cupped her palm around my face and leant her head against my chin, ‘I’m sorry Will.’

There was that word again, come back to haunt me.

*

We avoided each other for two days, not speaking or looking at each other. Even being in the same room together was torture.

We had all decided a week in advance that we’d spend our last night having dinner at the house and then go into town with our other friends.

Dinner was a tense affair and by the time we were ready to go out, I was ready to call it a night. Despite the fact Kate and I weren’t speaking, I still wanted to spend the final evening in her presence. Anything else would’ve felt wrong.

We made it to one of our favourite bars that we often visited to play pool. I could see Kate attempting to be cheerful, greeting our friends with hugs and pretending that everything was fine. She was in a denim skirt, tights and boots with a black top. Her hair was half pulled back from her face showing off every one of her features.

It was like a stab in every part of my body every time I remembered she was no longer mine.

Half way into the evening, some guys from uni decided they wanted to play pool with the girls in our group. One in particular from Kate’s course took a liking to her. He was tall, with strong broad shoulders and an easy confidence. Kate politely allowed him to show her how to aim into the pocket using a complicated ricochet move.

There was no touching, no sense of chemistry. Just a man showing a woman how to play pool. It was something that I would’ve ordinarily done.

She tried the move and failed, then tipped her head back and laughed.

I clenched my fists and made for the door, shoving the guy out of the way with my shoulder as I went.

‘Whoa! Careful mate’ I heard behind me. But the blood was rushing to my ears, pounding so loudly that I could barely hear.

I got home, slamming the door behind me and retreating to my room. I must’ve only been standing there for a few minute when Kate came bursting through my bedroom door.

‘What do you think you’re doing?!’ she shouted.

‘Go away’ I said, the words struggling to come out.

‘You were really rude back then’ she said angrily.

‘Well maybe you shouldn’t flirt with people right in front of my face’ I retorted.

‘I wasn’t flirting and you know it!’

I did know it, I just wanted to hear her say it.

‘Please don’t be like this Will’

‘What do you expect?’ I snarled.

‘For us to part as friends? Like we started?’ Even as she said it, I could tell she wasn’t convinced.

‘I don’t want to be your friend’ I said. ‘You’re…’

I couldn’t finish the sentence because I knew she already knew what I wanted to say. Soul mate. I had called her it once and she’d laughed asking if it usually takes that long for soul mates to get together.

Instead, I took a step towards her and kissed her hard on the mouth. She released a small sob but carried on kissing me anyway.

Neither of us spoke as we unbuttoned, unzipped and peeled away our clothing, clawing and grabbing at each other until the sun came up.

In the morning, she was already dressing when I woke up.

‘Why did you let this happen?’ was the first thing I said to her.

‘What?’ she said, her back turned to me.

‘Why did you spend three years with me if you knew you didn’t want my baggage?’

‘I wanted you’

‘So you just let me believe that we’d stay together?’

‘I thought we’d stay together. I didn’t start thinking about what would happen after until a few months ago’. Her voice was tired.

‘You’ve known for a few months and let it carry on then’

‘Stop it William. Please don’t make it harder to say goodbye’. I could tell she was crying even with her back turned.

I sat up and glared at the ground. ‘Fine. Goodbye Kate.’

I refused to look at her, but I knew she was facing me now. I could tell just by listening to the shallow sounds of her breathing. I don’t know how long she waited there for me to give her something more, but eventually her weight lifted gently off the bed. The sounds of her breathing, that I’d become so used to having beside me, and expected to have beside me for the rest of my life, were replaced by a soft click of the door.

*

The crowds had lined the streets on Graduation Day, just as we’d expected. I waved at them, and they happily waved back. But to me, their faces were just a blur. There was only one person I wanted to see.

She stepped onto the lawn; scroll in hand, her robes flowing behind her. Her skin was tinted and glowing and a beam spread across her face as her family came to congratulate her. If she knew I was looking in her direction she didn’t show it as she chatted and laughed, her dimples dipping into her face.

It was the last time I ever saw her.

 “I hope you never have to think about anything as much as I think about you.” ― Jonathan Safran Foer

Balmoral

I open my eyes to find George and Emma gaping at me. It takes a moment for one of them to speak.

‘What happened?’ Emma says, her voice coarse.

‘I’m sorry?’ I say, and take a sip of water.

‘What happened to her? To this Kate person’ she asks, mouth still agape.

‘Well’ I sigh, ‘I presume she went and did her traineeship, I didn’t have the heart to find out’.

‘What about mum?’ George interjects.

‘Kate was the reason I met your mother.’ I tread gently, knowing how hard this must be for them to hear. ‘A couple of years after university, Fergus organised a reunion of sorts. The thought of seeing Kate again made me want to run and hide, so I went and played at a charity polo match instead. That was where I met your mother, as you well know’.

‘I had no idea this person ever existed’ Emma says dumbfounded. ‘You’ve never mentioned her, not once, not even as a friend!’

I suddenly feel very tired. ‘Yes well, I’m not proud of how things happened.’

‘Did Mum know about her?’ Emma asks.

‘Yes, to an extent. She didn’t know exactly what Kate meant to me though’ I say.

‘Which was what exactly?’ George looks at me with a warning look in his eye. He was always fiercely protective of his mother.

I can’t bring myself to say the words so Emma does it for me.

‘She was the love of his life. Obviously.’ She says it so plainly and it surprises me.

‘I loved your mother very much’ I say, trying to reassure them both as if they are both still children.

It was true, I did love their mother. She had been a support to me for over fifty years and the day that she died five years ago was one of the hardest days of my life. As much as I loved her, I still never stopped thinking about Kate. About the way I felt like I was floating whenever I was near her.

‘Why did you feel the need to tell us all this?’ George says, still angry.

‘Because I’m about to die, I suppose. I wanted someone to know how special she was’

‘I’m sure her own family know that’, George snaps and stands up.

‘Look, son, when you get to my age you just want to talk about the past. To make amends. The way things ended with Kate has haunted me for my whole life’.

My hand starts to shake and Emma grabs it. My heart strains again and I rub my chest. It seems to get worse every time I think of her.

‘George please’, he is turned away from me but doesn’t turn around.

‘Oh for goodness sake’ Emma stands up and grabs George by the arm. ‘We all have our secrets, this is one of daddy’s. He dying, get over it’.

Emma always did have a wonderful way with words.

They sit with me for another hour, asking questions occasionally, but I am beginning to drift in and out of sleep. I hear them get up and leave, and then the mumbles of an argument in the corridor outside. I don’t know what they’re discussing, but I hear the familiar sound of George relenting to her before I sink into a deep sleep.

*

The following morning, I wake up wondering if yesterday’s events really happened, feeling a mixture of anxiety and relief.

My eyes creak open and I turn my head with an enormous effort. A pair of eyes are looking back at me.

Green eyes.

My heart jolts in a way that I didn’t know was possible anymore.

‘Hello’ she says.

I am transported back sixty years as her voice runs through me.

‘How did you?…what?’ is all I can say.

‘I got a phone call yesterday afternoon asking me to come up to Balmoral urgently’ she says quickly.

‘But how…’

‘Your daughter is quite resourceful apparently’ she laughs.

I laugh too despite my shock and notice her face for the first time. Her grey hair is tied up in a neat bun and wrinkles are set deeply in her face. But her eyes are still exactly the same.

‘You look beautiful’ I say.

‘Smooth as ever’ she says, rolling her eyes.

It’s as if nothing’s changed.

I am at a loss for words until she takes my hand knowingly.

‘Shall we go for a walk?’ I say. I don’t want her to see me like this, confined in this room.

I may be dying but my pride is very much still alive and kicking.

The nurses help me into my wheelchair and take me out to the grounds where Kate takes over, pushing me gently along the paths.

‘How have you been?’ I ask.

‘Good, and you?’

‘Well I’m dying, but other than that, life has served me well. What about you? I want to hear about your life.’

She tells me all about that past sixty years. How she did her traineeship and gained a job at the end of it. How she followed her dream and ended up curating all around Europe’s galleries. How she met her late husband at work and they had three children. Just like she always wanted.

‘How many grandchildren do you have?’ I ask.

‘Five’

‘Ha! I have six. Beat you’

She laughs, ‘it’s not a competition William’

‘Of course it is, it always is’.

She settles down on a bench and places my chair next to her.  ‘This is a lovely place’ she says.

‘I’m sick of it’ I say grumpily. ‘How about you take me out somewhere’.

‘St Andrews is only a couple of hours away’ she jokes.

I stare at her, ‘let’s go’.

‘William –‘

I take her hand in both of mine. ‘Please Kate, I’ve been stuck here for weeks. Let’s go back, I’ve been meaning to go for years but I always put it off’. The words come out in a jumble but she knows I mean them.

‘I don’t want a dead man in my car’ she says.

‘You drove here?!’

‘Yes’ she says looking affronted. ‘I’m old, not an invalid’.

I chuckle, ‘how about you take this invalid on a ride then?’

*

Kate leaves me outside and sneaks up to my room, collecting my medication and a few blankets.

‘I could go to prison for this’ she says when she returns, rolling me to the driveway at an alarmingly fast rate.

‘Emma and George didn’t see you did they?’

‘No’ she says breathlessly, packing her little red car.

Between the two of us, I am hauled into the passenger seat, brimming with excitement. I direct her to a side gate where I know there is only one guard standing.

I pop my head out of the window and say to him, ‘I’ll be back soon, they know all about it’.

The guard looks slightly startled, looking around for my security convoy, but before he can question it, Kate speeds away from the gates, the two of us laughing like naughty schoolchildren.

*

Two hours later, we arrive in St Andrews. We comment on all the things that have changed as we drive around – which is almost everything. The only thing that has stayed the same are the university buildings and we both descend into a respectful silence as we pass Sallies.

After much discussion, we decide on a remote area near to our old cottage. Kate pushes me up the small hills with some effort until we find a stone wall she can sit on.

On the way here, Kate stopped for snacks and she pulls out a packet of chocolate brownies from her bag and rips them open. We munch on them in silence.

‘My children are going to kill me’ I say.

She laughs. ‘Emma is lovely by the way, both of them are. You did well there’

I cough and she hands me a bottle of water. I take it but my hands are shaky and she holds it in place for me.

‘They are wonderful children’ I agree. ‘Did George give you a hard time?’

‘He was perfectly gracious’ she says. ‘Just like his father’.

I smile and she holds onto my hand.

‘Yes Emma is certainly more like her mother. Or her namesake’

She looks at me curiously.

‘Emma?’ I say, smirking. ‘You know the Jane Austen book?’

‘You named her after Emma Woodhouse?’, she says.

‘Well someone recommended the book to me a long time ago, so I read it’

She bows her head and squeezes my hand, tears springing to her eyes.

‘Kate.’

‘Don’t say it’ she pleads.

‘Say what?’

‘I don’t know, but it’s bound to make me cry’

‘I want to say sorry. The way we left things…the way I said goodbye to you –‘

‘It was my fault too’ she says. ‘I didn’t make it easy’.

‘You did what was right for you’. The wind is gathering and I wrap my coat around myself tighter.

‘I loved you’ she says, looking into the distance.

‘I’ve loved you for sixty years’.

‘Sometimes I think I missed my chance to be truly happy’, she brushes some crumbs off her lap.

‘You haven’t been happy?’

‘No, of course I’ve had a wonderful life, with a job and a husband and beautiful children, but something was always –‘

‘Missing’ I finish.

‘Yes’.

‘Yes.’

‘If I could do things again…’ she begins.

‘Hey, we don’t need to dwell on that. You’re here now’

‘I should’ve been there then’

My bones are achy and stiff but I lock her fingers with mine, ‘we’ve had happy lives. Maybe not the ones we expected back then, but we got through it’

‘I didn’t get over it though’

I look at her and her eyes are glistening.

‘Neither did I. Not fully. But I always wanted the chance to tell you I was sorry’

‘Well you’ve said it now’

‘Not just for being a complete idiot that day. But for not fighting for you. I should’ve tried harder’

‘I didn’t really give you a choice’. She leans against my shoulder and I place my chin on her head.

‘I just wanted you to be happy’

‘I have been. In my own way’, she says stifling a yawn.

I can’t suppress a laugh. ‘Does this remind you of anything?’

She closes her eyes and smiles, ‘we just need you to set fire to something now’.

*

Two bags of chips later and we head back home, ready for the torrent of anger from my children.

‘What you do think you were doing!!??’

‘Do you know how dangerous that was?’

‘We were worried sick!’

But I’m not listening. I can still feel the Fife wind on my face. Still taste the salty chips. And still feel her hand on mine.

I am tired but walking on air. I’m put back into bed and instruct my children that if they blame any of this on Kate I will cut their inheritance in half.

As the sun sets, Kate sits next to my bed. My heart is slowing again, but this time I don’t try to fight it.

‘I should probably leave you to rest’ she says.

When I look at her, she is the girl I fell in love with. Her hair tumbles around her shoulders in brown waves, her cheeks are pink and rosy and her eyes are glinting. I reach my hand out to touch her face, finding it smooth and soft as it always ways.

‘Stay’ I say.

She leans over and kisses me softly on the cheek. Butterflies explode inside me.

‘You should be with your family now’ she says gently, passing a wet drop from her eyelashes to my cheek.

‘Kate’

‘I know Will. I know. I’ll see you again, I promise’

She knows. At last, she knows.

I’m faintly aware of movement around me, more people enter the room and some leave. There is a constant sound off weeping somewhere.

Flashes of colour pass through my mind. My children clambering over me in the garden, and the smell of the grass. My wedding day; the taste of the smoke from the fireworks. The charred taste of slightly burnt spaghetti bolognaise.

I hear the slow thud of my heart over the voices around me, relaxing with every beat.

Until I can’t hear or see anything anymore.

And yet, my senses pick up one final thing.

Raspberries.

The End.

[alonely-dreamer]

The Valuable Sun | Chapter 14

Summary: Eric left with Russell and Pam won’t let her leave Fangtasia.

Pairing: Eric x OC

Warnings: 18+

A/N: Please, note that I am French so there might be some mistakes here and there.

Words: 2227

Masterlist

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13

There was no escaping Pam. The vampire had made it impossible for Brooklynne to go outside of Fangtasia, even for a minute. “I never disobeyed Eric, I’m not about to do it now,” she had said. But Brooklynne couldn’t bare it. She had to leave, she had to go. As soon as she found her phone, she had been surprised by the number of calls that she had received. Not because there were a lot of them, that was to be expected, but because of when she received them. She had been a prisoner here for two days and Sookie hadn’t even tried to call her once. The only calls she missed were from Tara and Jason. Listening to the dozens of messages they had left them, she learnt that Tara had been kidnapped by a delusional vampire named Franklin who took her to Mississippi where she first found Bill, then Sookie, who too had been kidnapped by a vampire of the name of Russell Edgington. Brooklynne was confused to hear about it, as Eric hadn’t mentioned her sister at all. She had been even more confused when she heard that Eric was there, saw them both, even Bill, but did nothing. Tara went as far as to call the Viking a “motherfucking traitor”. Brooklynne couldn’t blame her, after all, it did feel like betrayal. But she chose to trust Eric, she chose to think the best about the situation. If Eric had helped any of them, he’d probably be dead, and gone would have been his chances at avenging his family. But still, knowing that he left Sookie in the hands of Russell, especially since he knew of her powers, that hurt. That hurt much more than she would like to admit, even to herself. But all of that dilemma was forgotten in a second after she heard Jason’s messages. It was a horrific rollercoaster. First, she heard him say Bill had drained Sookie of most of her blood, then heard that her sister almost died. She heard too many messages of her brother asking her where she was and “what the fuck” she was doing. Sookie needed her, she needed her blood. The hospital couldn’t find Sookie’s blood type, and Brooklynne was her only chance of survival. Listening to these messages, she begged Pam to let her go, she cried, she screamed and even kicked but the vampire had no sympathy and even threatened, more than once, to chain her back to the bloody basement. The fighting stopped though, when she listened to the last message her brother had left her, informing her that Bill had arrived and fed Sookie his blood. Sookie was safe. Sookie was alive.

Exhausted by the last two days and especially the last hour, she let herself fall on the grey couch in Eric’s office, putting on the way too tight clothes that Ginger had brought over, ignoring the food that was on the desk that the waitress had “cooked” herself. She fell asleep almost instantly, leaving the horror of reality behind, just to step inside the horror of her mind.

Question after question, doubt after doubt, nightmare after nightmare, Brooklynne slept over forty hours in a row but got very little rest. All of her quiet and hidden worries came to life, dreaming of Eric, but not exactly Eric, or maybe just exactly him. Maybe the scary smirking vampire in her nightmares were exactly who Eric was and she was just too stupid to realize it. Maybe he didn’t really care about Sookie, maybe he would have killed her himself if it meant securing his revenge. Maybe he was a bloodthirsty vampire like Sookie had said, someone who didn’t care at all about her, or just about her powers, someone who would kill her once he had no more use of her.

When she wasn’t dreaming of Eric she dreamt of Russell or the Magister, or both. She watched the latter die over and over again, watched him torture Pam, torture her, torture Eric and then die by the hand of Russell Edgington. She watched herself be killed by him, watched Sookie die by his hand as well, watched a faceless vampire kill Tara and Jason. She heard Pam’s screams echoing inside of her head, saw Eric’s concerned look turn into an evil grin, saw herself with burning wings and falling from the sky.

None of those nightmares woke her up, no matter how bad they got. It was a loud noise that had her jerk awake, and an apparition that had her jump and almost fall off the couch.

“We need sanctuary,” she heard Eric say as he walked in.

Pam was there too, as surprised as Brooklynne as the telepath heard the vampire gasp, obviously unaware of what had her maker so panicked.

“Oh my God, what have you done?” she asked as she saw the blood on his shirt and on his face.

“Are you okay?” Brooklynne asked as she got up from the couch and made her way to him over to the desk.

“I staked a vampire, the lover of Russell Edgington,” he informed them, pacing the room. Brooklynne had never seen him like this, neither had Pam.

“Are you insane?!”

“Where can we go?!” he shouted back at her, making both women jump.

“We can go to my house…” Brooklynne started but he cut her off.

“No, that’s out of the question.”

“You never panic, should I be panicking?” Pam asked right as Ginger appeared behind her.

“Ginger, dear,” Eric started to say, “where do you live?”

“Across the river in Bossier, why?”

“We need your house. Now-ish,” Pam answered.

“Because of the V-feds?”

“The V-feds?” Brooklynne repeated, confused.

As she received no answer she looked up at both Eric and his progeny and what she saw was less than reassuring.

“They’re here for the Magister,” Pam guessed.

“What? But…”

“Russell sent a crew to clean up, right?”

“Yeah, I checked everything myself, the basement is spotless,” Pam answered.

“Let’s stay calm, and let’s go,” Eric instructed, “Brooke you know nothing, and if they try to glamour you, pretend like it’s working.”

“What about me?” Ginger asked.

“You…” Eric sighed, “you can just be yourself.”

He gave a look to his progeny then gave a reassuring nod to Brooklynne, before he walked out of his office, followed by everyone else.

 ***

 Confused, Brooklynne stayed silent as Nan Flanagan ordered her men to silver Pam and Eric. The 800 year-old vampire said nothing as her eyes fell on Brooklynne and continued to ignore the human as she interrogated Pam first, then Eric. To everyone’s surprise, Eric was brutally honest about everything. He told them about Russell and his pack of werewolves. He told them of his own family and need for revenge. He told all of that, knowing it would probably get him killed, in front of cameras, in front of the famous Authority Brooke had heard so much about.

After Nan left Fangtasia a little before sunrise, leaving some of her men to guard her prisoners, Pam said nothing as she gave a worried, sad and confused look to her maker, before she made her way to the other room where her coffin was waiting for her. Eric didn’t follow her and instead made his way to his office where Brooklynne found him.

He was sitting at his desk with a worried look Brooklynne wasn’t accustomed to see on his face. He raised his head a little as she walked inside the room. She said nothing as she closed the door and made her way to him.

“I’m mad at you,” she said in a calm tone.

“Lying would have been futile.”

“I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about you leaving my sister to a crazy psycho vampire who hates human and who’s probably gonna do terrible things to her once he knows what she is!”

“You mean a fairy?” he said suddenly, almost making her jump despite his quiet voice and calm attitude. The look on her face told him everything he wanted to know.

“How do you…”

“Your cousin told me.”

“My cousin?” she frowned.

“Hadley.”

“How did you… How does she…”

“She was Sophie-Anne’s human until a few days ago. She’s the one who told her about you and your… abilities. The queen sent Bill to investigate.”

It took a minute for the telepath to realize what it all meant. “She sent Bill,” she breathed out. “Bill… became friends with Sookie…”

“It was his job. Though I have no doubt his feelings are real, knowing how he is…”

A word escaped her mouth she had never said before. It surprised Eric too.

“I couldn’t have helped Sookie even if I wanted to…”

“I know that. I just… I wish you would have told me…”

“I didn’t want to worry you.”

“Nobody wants to worry me!” she replied loudly. “Nobody tells me anything because they think I’m too weak to hear it! And I’m sick of it!”

“I’m sorry.”

His apology took her by surprise. She couldn’t remember if he had ever apologized, to her or anyone.

She sighed. She let go of her anger, not wanting to spend what could be their last moment together angry at him. She sat on his lap like he liked her to do and rested her head on his chest.

“What do you think is going to happen?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes you do.”

He sighed. “I’d be lucky if they decide to put me in a box for a thousand years.”

“They can do that?” she asked, with a horrified look on her face as she looked up at him.

“Oh, yes.”

“But…”

“Don’t worry about it. It won’t help either me or you.”

“But…”

He didn’t let her finish as he gently brought her head back to his chest.

“You’ll be fine. When I’m gone… never tell anyone what you are. Take Sookie and go. The queen knows what you are and what you can do. What your blood can do. She wants it. She wants the sun. She can never have it, do you understand?” he asked as he took her face in his hands and locked her eyes in his to emphasize his point. “If he doesn’t already know it, Russell will figure it out too. Never tell anyone. Ever. Promise me.”

Tears filled her eyes as she stared back at him, his plea echoing in her head. A few tears fell down as she nodded.

“What am I gonna do without you?” she asked in a trembling whisper.

“You’ll be just fine,” he said, bringing her closer to his chest. “If they leave Pam alone, you can always trust her and ask her for help.”

“I’m sure she’d rather I leave her alone,” she chuckled sadly.

“Yes. But she’d do it for me.”

“You’re gonna be okay,” she said, completely aware of her denial.

He smiled as he stroke her hair. “We’re all going to be okay.”

 ***

 An entire day had gone by and Eric hadn’t gotten any sleep at all. Around midnight, they found Pam at a table in the club, waiting silently for Flanagan to come back with the verdict. She said nothing to her maker, though the look on her face said it all. Eric and Brooklynne sat at the table next to hers and they didn’t move nor say anything for about an hour.

At last, Nan came back with a letter in her hands. She looked angry and in a hurry. This was going to be quick, and the armed men following her made it certain that the arrest, if arrest there was, would be quick too.

“You look like shit,” she told Eric.

“Well I feel fantastic,” she replied dryly.

“The ruling is as follows,” she said as she opened the letter. Brooklynne squeezed Eric’s hand and she felt her heart starting to beat faster inside of her chest. She knew Eric would hear it too. “The Authority disavows any knowledge of our interview, your statement or, indeed, this ruling itself. None of this ever happened.”

“What?” Eric voiced what Pam and Brooklynne were feeling too.

“Missing royals, dead Magisters… It’s a political tar baby no one wants to touch,” she explained. “Not with the VRA close to ratification.”

“Russell will not stop killing,” Eric told her. “What if the human public learns of it.”

“That’s why you’re going to take care of it. Quietly, discreetly, and, most important of all, completely off the books. You wanted revenge, it’s yours.”

“What resources are you gonna give me?”

“None. We’re not getting near it.”

“How do you expect me to kill him? He’s three times my age.”

“Listen, you whiny little bitch. The only link between Sophie-Anne, Russell and the Magister is you. You brought us this steaming pile of shit and you’re going to make it go away. Bring me his fangs, or I will have yours.”

She turned around without another word, followed by all of her men, leaving the two vampires and the fairy alone to digest what had just been said. Eric turned around to look at his progeny who seemed to be as worried as he was. His eyes fell on his human and he could almost read her mind.

It was a death sentence after all.

*********

Tags: @thepoet1975 @nerdysandwichqueen @catchmeupimgettingoutofhere @raegan-hale @colie87 @heavenly1927​ @abbey7103

[rpgmgames]

November’s Featured Game: lux (dream.girl)

DEVELOPER(S): Rindre Rindere ENGINE: RPGMaker 2k3   GENRE: Psychological Horror, Exploration SUMMARY: lux (dream.girl) is a surreal psychological horror game created in RPG Maker 2003 where you play as Benjamin, a socially inept teenage writer who struggles with depression, loneliness, and writer’s block. When he decides to try lucid dreaming to figure out how to push his story forward, he meets new friends, new enemies, and his literal dream girl. Making certain choices will either help or hurt his relationships, and the outcome of his story.

Download the demo here!

Introduce yourself!  *Hi! I'm Rindre! I've been working on RPG Maker for about 5 or 6 years at this point! First and foremost, I'm an artist, then a game developer, then a voice actor. I am also a garlic bread enthusiast. You might also know me as: -The voice of Aria/the lead translator in Aria's Story -Will's Teacher in The Hanged Man -The mod of Yumeresource -The admin of the RPG Horror Discord server -The host of the Pixel Horror Jams! I'm also on plenty of teams, mostly as a voice actor. These include b/f, AURORA, and The Doctrine of Perseverance.

What is your project about? What inspired you to create your game initially? *Rindre: lux is about a boy named Ben, who is an aspiring writer who hits a writer's block and tries to take up lucid dreaming to interact with his stories and characters find out how to advance his story. He ends up meeting interesting people, including his literal dream girl. Yume Nikki is a big inspiration for me. My stories I had written when I was younger also played a huge part, and I decided to recycle bits and pieces of them into lux. Ultimately, the frustrations and experience of being a content creator inspired me to make the game. Hopefully these themes will ring universal to whoever relates to being a creator as well.

How long have you been working on your project? *Rindre: You could say 5 years, or 2 years, or since July 2017! lux actually originated as a Yume Nikki fangame in 2012 (as are all games I've made...). I picked it up again on October 2 2015 as a concept to keep a work log, but actually making it into a tangible product took me until 2017's Pixel Horror Jam. The work log has 30+ pages to it! The Yume Nikki fangame version was prepared to be released, but I forgot, and now I'm too ashamed to release it because I meant to do it 5 years ago :(

Did any other games or media influence aspects of your project? *Rindre: I'm a big fan of psychological and sci-fi/cyberpunk media. These things usually ask: Who are we, and who are we in other people's eyes? What defines us? What does it mean to be an individual in our society? It's a question I like to ask myself and explore in my own projects. My major inspirations who ask these existential questions are deep within Satoshi Kon's works and Philip K Dick's stories, as well as other movies that were inspired by those two or are in the genre (like The Matrix, Inception, Akira, Ghost In The Shell, Serial Experiments Lain, etc.). Some other inspirations and influences that might be surprising are: Kappa Mikey (art style mixing), Vocaloid producers (Crusher-P, Mothy, Yuyoyuppe), Evangelion, Linkin Park, the Hamtaro GBA games, Kirby, and my own dreams. Unsurprisingly, Yume Nikki is the biggest inspiration. I really like the concept of dreams and escapism, and how it often plays into existentialism.

Have you come across any challenges during development? How have you overcome or worked around them?   *Rindre: They say that when making a game, 10% is actual development and 90% is bugfixing/quality assurance. This is VERY TRUE. I spent a couple months working with my bugtesters (Thanks Biel, Choko, Meaka, Pinkuboa, and Uboaappears). The actual demo was a bunch of crunch time for the jam, which was July - August). There were a lot of bugfixes involved, including a bug I was so puzzled with and thought I couldn't fix but the solution was so simple. It took me a month to figure it out! The RM2k3 update caused a bit of trouble for me, but I thank my bugtesters endlessly for helping me squash most, if not all, bugs. On the other hand, in case anybody asks, yes: I have lucid dreamt of my characters in lux when I hit a roadblock. These were never successful. I've only been able to do it twice, both by accident.

Have any aspects of your project changed over time? How does your current project differ from your initial concept? *Rindre: I usually go into development with a clear idea in mind with certain events and endings, but lux differs greatly from its old Yume Nikki counterpart (dream.girl). Notable major changes: Ben now wears glasses. Ben is now a writer. Stella used to not be a bunny. Stella also did not have any stars in her eyes before. The only things retained was the concept of dreaming a dream girl, and Ben's and Stella's names and facial appearance. Even if I make a bunch of plot outlines and flowcharts, things change, but it's natural! The stories that occur within lux also have changed slightly plot-wise from their earlier pre-2012 counterparts (most were written over 10 years ago!), and are begging for a facelift. One involved parkour, but sadly, there is no parkour anymore :(

What was your team like at the beginning? How did people join the team? If you don't have a team, do you wish you had one or do you prefer working alone? *Rindre: I prefer working alone when it's my project! I like working at my own pace, but if needed, I'll reach out to other people for help. I like helping people out on their projects too, but when it comes to my own, I like to handcraft everything by myself. It shows me what I'm capable of doing, and gives my game a "this was 100% made by me" stamp.

What is the best part of developing a game? *Rindre: Making music is relaxing and lets me convey a mood or theme without having to take out my tablet to draw or write something extensively. Being able to relax yet still work on the game is great. I like nights where I can sit down and make something nice I can put in my game. A lot of them are on my SoundCloud (Rindere), but some of the really nice ones are ones I haven't uploaded there. I'm really not a musician, but I did take a class on music technology. My favorite ones going to be in lux on my SoundCloud are "Nepenthean", which is also Ben's theme, "Choke On Your Misery", and "Empyria Incarnadine". It's also really nice to get files from your voice actors and they sound EXACTLY like how you thought your character would sound like! Special thanks to Aidan, Mizu, JR, and Nuei.

Do you find yourself playing other RPG Maker games to see what you can do with the engine, or do you prefer to do your own thing? *Rindre: I prefer to do my own thing! I like to push RPG Maker 2003 to the limit. A lot of the cool effects were done before the major update of RM2k3 that came out earlier last month. Some things I thought were never possible in RM2k3 are things that I made possible after some thought. Like any problem, it can be solved in a bunch of ways, even if you have limitations.

Which character in your game do you relate to the most and why? (Alternatively: Who is your favorite character and why?) *Rindre: The character I relate to the most is actually my least favorite character. It's Ben! I specifically modeled him after myself but changed certain things, like the intensity of his reactions. It was actually difficult to write him, because I had to think about how I would react in the situations I put Ben in. I feel like I had to get into some kind of mindset that was "mine", but also "not mine" as well.

Looking back now, is there anything that regret/wish you had done differently? *Rindre: I feel like I could've released the game sooner, or continued work on FLUX instead. I would like to go back to working on FLUX soon, since I haven't worked on it in a long while. But after hosting the Pixel Horror Jam with Choko and jamming on this game, I'd like to rest up a bit before I take on a big project again.

Once you finish your project, do you plan to explore game's universe and characters further in subsequent projects, or leave it as-is? *Rindre: Because lux is part of the -UX Series, it would naturally be a series with other entries. I don't know if or when they'll all be created, nor if they'll all be games, but I do eventually hope to see it finish. Something I want to explore is to further flesh out the stories Ben has written, especially because they were concepts written before lux ever came up as a concept. I've also given them -UX titles! I think I'll work on Crux/quX next.

What do you look most forward to upon/after release? *Rindre: I am donating proceeds to the One More Light Fund with what is being donated to the itch.io-uploaded version of lux, so I really am looking forward to donating to a cause that is important to me. I encourage people to donate to the OML Fund directly, not through me. I also really like fan reaction, but I love the catharsis of releasing something you've made. It's a mix of relief and pride, but a little bit of anxiety because you don't know how well the fan reaction will be. I hope that my game will affect somebody in a positive, personal way, whether it be a new favorite game, something for them to draw, or become inspiration for their own works. I look forward to free time and rewarding myself with something good, like chicken parmesan too!

Is there something you're afraid of concerning the development or the release of your game?  *Rindre: I constantly ask, "Is my game worthy enough for others to play? Is my game good enough?" But when it comes down to it, really you're asking it to yourself, not to the people that will play your game. Sometimes, you have to sit down and ask yourself, "Am I satisfied with what I have made so far?" Then you go down the list of things you've made and say either, "I'm proud of this!" or "This could use some more work." and you fix it accordingly. The first audience of your game is always you, so if your game is "worthy" and "good enough" to you, then it is for other people.

Question from last month's featured dev (Team Galanx): What kind of stories do you appreciate most in RPG Maker games? For example, do you like ones based off real-life experiences, fantasy elements, or morals? *Rindre: My series of games is called the -UX Series, with there being 4 main stories that are related to each other: "FLUX", "lux", "Ux.", and "X". The rest of the titles end in "-ux" as well. It was only natural to do that!

Do you have any advice for upcoming devs? *Rindre: Game Development -Give things meaningful names. -Back up your work in three different places. -Back up your games frequently. -Never be afraid to remake things, but do this occasionally. If you do this frequently, you'll be caught up in a loop of perfectionism. -Think if the cool new thing you want to put in will actually serve a proper purpose in the game. If it's only there just to be cool, don't put it in your game. -If things don't work out, it's perfectly fine to scrap ideas. -Don't pander. Make a game you want to make, not what others want to play. Releasing your game -Reach out to people who haven't played games similar to yours. You'll have opinions that you wouldn't normally get, compared to others who are familiar with your type of game. -Learn how to take critique. This might be the skill that will take you the longest to hone. -Not everyone is out to get you, but sometimes there will be people who want to bring you down. Even if this happens, there are always people there to support you. -You don't have to agree with every critique given to you. Other advice -If you're not embarrassed about your old work, then you haven't progressed. Continue to improve your skills and yourself. -Don't compare yourself to others. Compare yourself to your past self instead. -Don't be working on your game 24/7. Take up hobbies to occupy yourself, so you don't get burned out. -Learn to be a generalist, but also learn to specialize in something that people will recognize you for. -Be proud of your work.

We mods would like to thank Rindre for agreeing to our interview! We believe that featuring the developer and their creative process is just as important as featuring the final product. Hopefully this Q&A segment has been an entertaining and insightful experience for everyone involved! 

Remember to check out lux if you haven’t already! See you next month! 

- Mods Gold & Platinum