Harlyn
Finley is quiet. He's been quiet for two days. We only hung out a little bit yesterday, and I didn't push. I think we need some breathing room, some lightness after such a heavy week. So, we're going back to the early days of our relationship. I'm taking him on an adventure to visit Windsor Castle, one of the places that he had on his list last semester but didn't make it to. Hopefully, it will let us reset a little. We'll get out of Canterbury, away from work and school and people. Just us.
I watch the side of Finley's face next to me on the train as he watches the countryside blur past us. It's moments like this I wish I could read his mind, just a little. Just to know he's as alright as he says he is. He hugged me tight and smiled when we met at the train station this morning. But the smile didn't quite reach his eyes the way it normally does. It feels a bit like being on the train to Paris, knowing there was something more in his head than he wasn't telling me.
Just like I did then, I slide my hand into his. He doesn't startle as much this time, and he smiles easier. It's more genuine than earlier, too, and it calms some of the worry swirling around in my stomach. And when he leans into me and puts his head on my shoulder, I second guess all my worry completely. On top of being quiet when we were together yesterday, he also wasn't super touchy. I didn't push that, either, of course. But it's nice to have him initiating it like this.
"Are you excited?" I ask, nosing at the top of his head.
"Yeah." He starts playing with my fingers. "It's been a while since we did something like this. It would have been Paris, I guess, wouldn't it?"
"Yeah, I guess it was. And -" I lay my head against his. "It's the first time doing something like this, just the two of us. I mean, I took you to work, but I -"
He tilts his head up to look at me. "That was different. That was...work. And, I mean, it was perfect." Another little smile flits across his face. "Before the...incident, of course."
"Shut up," I groan. I used the phrase The Incident once this week when I was talking to him and mentioned that that was how I was referring to it in my head. He giggled, apologized for laughing in the middle of a serious conversation, and then started giggling again.
"No, it was cute," Finley says, a tiny breath of a laugh tumbling out of his mouth. It's nice to hear him laugh.
"Whatever. My point is, this is the first time we've, you know, gotten on a train and... gone somewhere together. A trip."
He pulls back a little farther and rests his chin on my shoulder. "Yeah. It'll be nice to get away for a day. Like a mini vacation."
I nod and kiss the tip of his nose. He wrinkles it in the most adorable way and lets his eyes drift closed. He stays cuddled up against me for the rest of the train ride and tells me about work and that he finally met his manager's girlfriend.
"Mindy? Who I met when I came in a few weeks ago?" I ask, playing with his fingers this time.
"Yeah. She really liked you, by the way." He snorts. "Thought you were hot."
"What a compliment."
"It is. Especially from her." He sighs. "Takes a while for her to warm up to people."
"Has she warmed up to you?"
He shrugs. "I think so. She's always nice to me."
I pause before asking my next question, hoping it's not too deep for the delicate place we're in. "And are you? Warming up to her? To your other coworkers? I know that was a big fear for you at the beginning."
"Um." He pulls back just a bit to look up at me again. "I guess. It's been...like a month now? I like everyone. They're all really nice. It just...you know me. It takes me a while to open up to people and... work isn't always the easiest place to do that. But it's good. Going to work doesn't make me as nervous as it did in the beginning."
"Good. That's so good, love."
He gives me a slightly sleepy smile and plops his head back on my shoulder.
When we finally pull into the station in Windsor, I have to nudge him awake, and he looks a bit disoriented. "Here?"
"Mmhm." I stand, stretch, and hold my hand out to him. He swings our hands between us as we stroll down the platform to the station entrance. But when we make it to the main road and the castle comes into view, he freezes.
"Harlyn..."
"Welcome to Windsor," I say, barely containing my excitement. For the first time in almost a week, Finley's eyes are alight and he's smiling. Actually smiling. A smile that makes my insides all melty.
"It's a castle. A real castle."
I snort out a laugh. "You've seen a castle before, love."
"Yeah, but...not a castle that actual royalty lives in, like, right now." He squeezes my hand tightly. "This is a... castle, Harlyn. The castle. The Queen's house. I'm..."
"Well, let's go inside, shall we?"
I tug on our still clasped hands and lead him down the street and across to the foot of the castle. On the corner, I point out the statue of Queen Victoria.
"Everywhere. She's everywhere, I swear."
"You know," I say, stepping back to let someone pass us on the sidewalk. "Sometimes, I scroll back to the very beginning of our texts and reread all of the random Queen Victoria facts you sent me."
He looks up at me, a slightly awed look on his face. "Really? That's a long way to scroll."
"Well...I don't physically scroll. I search in our conversation, and it takes me to the right spot. But...yeah."
"That's unbelievably sappy, sweetheart."
"Yeah, I know."
We wait in line to buy tickets and step onto the grounds. It's kind of chilly today, and it's supposed to rain. For now, it's just gray. But it doesn't seem to dampen Finley's mood. Or mine. We wander through the grounds, taking pictures and laughing and gawking. We stop at the cafe for lunch just as it's starting to drizzle. And we stroll through the State apartments and rooms for almost an hour and a half.
I have a major flashback when he stops to stare up at a massive painting on the wall. The look on his face and the way he's staring reminds me of the first time he, Max, Elly, and I spent a lot of time together. Elly and I gave them a tour around the city, and we stopped at Canterbury Castle. When we got to the grounds, Finley stopped right inside the fence and just stared.
I was already intrigued by him, and my inclination to take care of people had kicked in that morning when he met us late after a rough call with his parents. I didn't know the whole story at the time, and I didn't know that what I was experiencing was attraction. But the look on his face and the way he'd sort of stare off distantly when the conversation lagged broke my heart. And I spent the whole day trying to make him smile, to distract him from whatever he was thinking about.
When his jaw went slack and he couldn't tear his eyes away from the castle, I was pulled in even further. Elly never puts down my love of history, and my family always supports my obsession. Mum, especially, who has a degree in history herself, gets into long conversations with me or takes me on trips to museums and historical sites all the time. But there was something about Finley sharing my love of history.
Knowing what I know now, it's obvious I was also interested in Finley, not just his love of history. It's hard to figure out my feelings from that day since I'm looking at it now through nine months of having Finley in my life, eight of which we've been dating. It's easy now to say that I wanted to kiss him or ask him out or, at the very least, spend time alone with him. But at the time I just thought he'd be a good friend.
And here we are, strolling through yet another historical building. This time, though, I lean over and kiss his temple every time he does something cute, and I hold his hand in between him scurrying off to read a plaque. I wonder what I would have thought if someone had told me that day that we'd be here.
When we exit the State Apartments, it's pouring, and I'm glad I grabbed an umbrella this morning. We squeeze under it and hurry to St. George's Chapel on the other side of the castle grounds. It's a gorgeous building, inside and out. And it's been a while since I've been here. It takes my breath away, too. And we both stand frozen just inside the door. Eventually, we move out of the way so other people can come in behind us. As I watch Finley take in the first half of the chapel, a thought hits me.
"You know what I just realized?" I ask, wrapping my arms around him from behind, careful not to soak his shoes with the umbrella hanging from my fingers. He hums softly. "We still haven't been to Canterbury Cathedral, just the two of us. We went with your parents and Bridget, but -"
"But that was awkward and uncomfortable."
"Not as awkward and uncomfortable as I thought it was going to be. But yes," I laugh. "I couldn't really follow through with my plan to kiss you in all my favorite spots with them watching us like hawks."
He wiggles until I let him go enough that he can turn around. "And where were you going to kiss me?"
"Well, it was going to be a surprise."
"One of the spots is where Thomas Beckett died, isn't it?"
I suck my lips between my teeth. "Maybe."
He squints at me. "That's a little morbid, don't you think?"
"Probably."
We make our way through the chapel slowly, hand in hand. And when we get outside, we catch the end of the changing of guard. Finley watches, enraptured, until the guards are stock still in their positions and the crowd is dispersing.
"Anything else you wanna see, love?" I ask.
He hesitates for a moment and stutters out, "Oh, uh, a-anything else you want to see?"
I huff a laugh and squeeze an arm around his shoulders. "I'm asking you."
"Well, I'm good with anything. You know this place better than I do."
"Alright," I concede. "Why don't we take a walk down to the river and then catch the later train?"
Finley nods, tension still etched in the lines of his shoulders. "Yeah. Yeah, whatever you want."
The phrasing strikes me as odd. It's not like he's never said it before, so I brush it aside and don't comment. But I watch him as we wander down to the river, poking our heads in random shops as we go. He relaxes a little, but he never stops in a store first, even if he looks like he wants to. I make sure to stop when I notice, but I can't help but wonder how many times I miss it. And it sticks with me. Even as we walk along the river with the sun sinking low on the horizon, even as he falls asleep on my shoulder on the train, even as he kisses me deeply when I leave him at his door, I can't stop thinking about it.