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Love Through Time ~ A Serena and Darien Saga
Volume III, Chapter vii

by Sailor Europa



	The war was escalating at a rapid pace. 

	I hated the wretched thing, but I praised God for distracting everyone else with its 
intricacies and drawing the attention away from me. When Papa wasn't bellowing to his 
buddies about the impertinent Union, he was chastising the family for not supporting the 
Confederacy enough. Mama expected us to knit and wrap bandages, but I found a way 
out whenever possible. Despite the new feelings blossoming inside me, I knew that my 
brother was still out there, and I naively felt guilty for opposing my own kin. I couldn't 
shirk the relationship I had with them, no matter how wrong I believed their ideals to be 
anymore.

	Most of my days were spent visiting with families who had similar situations as 
ours. Many were not as fortunate as we were; a great number of sons and husbands had 
been lost, or injured. And worst of all, many were missing. I was never eloquent or 
compassionate in speech, so I could only sit, numb and speechless, never knowing what 
to say to these friends. I'd grown up with them all, and it seemed to me, at this point, the 
Cause was as much the enemy as the Union was. The sides were a blur in battle – for as 
many shots fired, there were just as many received. I was beginning to grimly wonder if 
shooting themselves wouldn't have been just as effective. 

	My demeanor grew darker with each passing day that I watched the situation 
worsen around me. Between the bloodshed that we were constantly reminded of and 
encouraged to promote, it seemed that everywhere I looked I saw the unfairness of the 
society that our country was entrenched in. I couldn't imagine looking past a slave now 
like I had before. I couldn't recall ever noticing a darkie in passing before. Now, not only 
did I notice them, but I also faced the hollow, empty, lifeless eyes. They'd been born 
slaves, many had already died as slaves, and so they had no hope as slaves. Being born a 
slave was a death sentence, and each family was just an endless succession of walking 
corpses that we exploited. It was sick. Why hadn't I noticed it before?

	I found myself reluctantly accompanying mother into town one day, which was 
atypical as of late; due to what I saw before me, I rarely went outside anymore. I wanted 
to do something – contribute like Darien and Charles. These excursions were painful at 
best and I prayed, as the carriage trotted along at its moderate pace, that mother wouldn't 
notice my inactivity. More than one suspicious glance had been cast at me in the previous 
days, but I pretended not to notice. If prompted, I would just explain that I was feeling 
under the weather, which, in actuality, wasn't a lie. I had been feeling sick as of late, but 
there was no need to discuss why. 

	We arrived shortly, and by the tight pursing of her lips, I could tell mother was 
regretting having brought me. I was supposed to be jolly. The young girls were expected 
to project the Southern ideals that were slipping away rapidly, being consumed by the 
war. It had always been an act, all the happiness, anyway. We'd fooled everyone else, but 
I wondered what the point was in trying to fool each other anymore. We all knew that our 
lives were doomed, even if we gained victory. War always, without exception, changes 
everything.

	"Darling, I'm just going to have some things sent. Why don't you go visit Mrs. 
Clarke, and I'll be along shortly? I'm sure she'd be grateful for the company." 

	I nodded numbly and turned on my heel. I couldn't face her any longer, and I 
could just envision the confused expression she must have been wearing. I didn't want an 
interrogation; I was glad for the chance to escape, even if it meant comforting another 
grieving widow. 

	The walk was short, and I was lead into the sitting room by a silent darkie with a 
maroon turban snugly wrapped around her head. The elder woman was flanked by a 
myriad of other mourners who patted and consoled, words being lost between the sheer 
number of them. I hadn't an idea what to say, so I just stood near the sofa until one 
looked up, eyes barely visible through the hankie. 

	"Oh, Clarice, look!" She squealed, sniffling daintily and jumping to her feet 
immediately. "Selena, darling, how good of your family to send you."

	"Mother will be along as soon as she finishes some business in town." I mumbled, 
looking down. The widow Clarice beamed at me, eyes shining. She was hardly even 40 – 
been married long enough to lay roots with her husband, but not nearly long enough to 
say she was ready to be without him. 

	"It really is kind of you to pay us a visit at this time. Really." She mumbled, and I 
raised a cautious eyebrow. I'd seen people so heartbroken they were delirious, but was I 
actually detecting a smile? 

	"I do hope you're handling things, Mrs. Clarke." 

	"It's not easy, but I can rest peacefully at night."

	"I'm glad to hear that. Are you taking full advantage of the church?"

	"Oh, of course. But John, my John, died a hero for the Cause. Despite the pain," 
She clutched at her hanky and shook away tears, and I tried to remain placid. I wasn't 
sure I would believe what she would add after something like that. "Despite the pain, I 
know that he went willingly, and I wouldn't have it any other way."

	I don't think I'd felt such a dull thud as I did that second inside my chest. 

	"John's greatest accomplishment will always be that he gave his life for the 
Cause. It's such a personal loss, for me, but I refuse to be that selfish. It's a loss on my 
part, but it was such a gain for a greater good." 

	Dumbstruck. That's the only thing to describe how I felt. Through her sobbing 
and wailing, this woman was actually proud she had lost her husband. I blinked and stood 
stalk still in the doorway, afraid to get any closer. I was watching some kind of sick 
comedy; Shakespeare gone horribly wrong. Humanity was on its way to hell if this was 
any sign of things to come. How could one mind, let alone the half dozen populating the 
room, think on such a level that it rationalized and even glorified the bloody death of 
another? And not just anyone, but someone you loved? 

	The mourners continued on with their scene, and so involved in their pious, 
patriotic ramblings were they that I slipped away unnoticed. The same young slave let me 
out and I barely made it outside before I inhaled finally, after holding my breath. I had, 
perhaps, been afraid to breathe the same air as those women, lest I become infected with 
whatever disease made them so insane. It was frightening; even at my most loyal, I could 
never be that ridiculous.

	'Mother be damned', I thought. I wasn't going to stay another minute. I would 
find her. I'd have a believable excuse by the time we met up, and even if I didn't, I 
couldn't envision staying calm in that situation. I clutched my skirt to keep from tripping 
over it and I could feel my knuckles tightening over the heavy fabric as I trudged 
unseeingly along the street. My nerves were being worn to the root – I wasn't sure I 
would be able to feel anything within a few weeks if my life continued this way. So much 
pent up aggression, so much anxiety….

	"…go to hell, then!" 

	I glanced up at the familiar voice just in time to run straightaway into a dusty vest 
covering a burly chest. I stumbled back as the same accent chuckled, tone immediately 
merry. I blinked and glanced up, squinting into the noonday sun. 

	"Charles?" I questioned, shielding my brow with my hand. 

	"'Ay, lass." He said with an added nod. I smiled, for the first time that day, but I 
could tell he was antsy to get away. "Didn't 'a expect to see ya' here. All alone?" 

	"Mother will be along shortly." I answered, an awkward pause following. I 
wanted desperately to ask about Darien and how things had been progressing with their 
work, but I wasn't foolish enough to be so open, where anyone could overhear. And I 
could tell that Charles was anxious to depart, so I relented despite my own desires, and 
dipped my head in a 'good-bye'. "Nice to see you again." I said politely and sidestepped 
him, my heart not able to avoid the disappointment. 

	"Carver's. Tonight."

	I stopped. I hadn't gotten farther than a few feet when I heard the words. I wasn't 
sure if it was meant for my ears or not, but I knew what it meant regardless. Charles was 
a smart man; smart enough to keep his distance from my kind. He had to know I would 
hear that and understand. And he had to know that I couldn't just sit on it. 

	No, I couldn't. Not after all I'd been through. The Carver's land was one of the 
closest to ours. I could be there before 10, even if I waited until the entire family had 
retired. Tonight. Yes, tonight I could ease my conscience. Even if it was only for a few 
hours, I could sleep soundly tonight. If I had to courage to take what I'd heard and run 
with it. 

	That was the question, though, wasn't it? Did I have the courage? 

	I felt my chest get heavy. I honestly didn't know. 



*****


	I sat in my room, watching the sun droop behind the horizon from my window to 
the west. As impossible as I might have thought it, the ride home in the carriage with 
mother had been even quieter. She had been perturbed that I hadn't waited for her at Mrs. 
Clarke's, and once she found me wandering the streets, she was even less joyous. I had 
mumbled a half-hearted excuse about getting lost in the unfamiliar streets, but that only 
shook her more. The anger transferred to worry, however, as the carriage bumped on 
towards home. I wasn't sure what to say. I didn't think a coherent sentence could be 
formed with all the random thoughts running rampant inside my head anyway, but I knew 
that if I didn't start to make sense of my behavior, she'd begin to press. And I couldn't 
afford that. 

	I used the pretext I had formulated before and explained I wasn't feeling well at 
all and immediately skirted off to my room once the horses had stopped in front of the 
house. I had pulled out my sewing, fully intending to occupy my time and thoughts until 
sundown came, but not a stitch was completed. 

	I was a wreck waiting for evening, but now that it was upon me, the feelings only 
intensified. Did I dare? Was I really capable of leaving? This was something I had dreamt 
about, something that had kept my attention almost every moment I was awake. But to 
actually carry it out was a surrender of my past life. It was lying down the comfort and 
shelter I had known my whole life, and though they didn't realize it, I was giving up my 
family as well. I hoped it wouldn't come to it, but if pushed, I would not lie about where 
my loyalties were anymore. I planned to cover myself well enough so that no one would 
find out, but I was discovering that was easier to say than it was to do. Mother was 
already suspicious of something and all I had really done was contemplate it! Hiding my 
actions would only get harder as time wore on; was I really ready to accept all the 
responsibility this carried with it?

	I didn't know. I understood now, though, when Darien confessed part of him was 
only helping to ease his guilt. I'd felt like an unworthy dog; I had tried to alleviate the 
shame, but I compared my insignificant acts to the years and years I'd lived in 
selfishness, and I had to admit that I fell horribly short. In truth, I wasn't sure I could 
make up for all that time, but I wanted to try. I had to; it was my duty as a human being.

	My guilt, I was finding, was much stronger than my fear. 


*****


	"Goodnight, darling. Are you going to up much longer?"

	"Oh, possibly, Papa. But don't feel like you have to keep the lights on for me, 
though."

	My father smiled down affectionately at me and my heart broke as he kissed the 
top of my head noisily, patting my hair with those massive hands of his. I watched his 
back as he trudged up the stairs, my mother hanging on his arm lovingly. My chest 
squeezed; I loved them both so much. 

	"Please don't hate me, Papa." I whispered once I heard their bedroom door shut. 
Tears threatened themselves for probably the tenth time that night, and I set aside my 
sewing circle, counting as high as I possibly could in order to give myself enough time. I 
couldn't risk getting caught on my first night out. I had to be sure no one would hear a 
peep.

	I inhaled softly as I watched the light go out from under their door at the top of 
the staircase. 'Just a few more minutes' I told myself. I couldn't stop my legs from 
shaking and I was sure that any moment I would burst into tears of fear and frustration. 
My heart was being torn in two, and it was the most painful thing I'd ever experienced, 
but I knew that if I didn't go through with this, the ache would be ten times worse. 

	'Now', I told myself as soon as the house had settled into an eerie stillness. I crept 
the few feet to the front door and opened it as slowly as possible, stepping outside. I gave 
one last look at the house, cast in such darkness and I thought how appropriate that was. I 
didn't know when I'd be back, but I knew that this house and all it resembled would 
forever be spread with shadows in my mind. 
	


*****


	It was less than an hour before I found my way through the eerie orchards that 
lined the main road to the neighboring land of the Carver's. My breath was short from a 
combination of anxiety and exertion after the trip. I walked swiftly, wiping my brow with 
the hem of my dress absently. I had chosen a less ostentatious gown for the evening – I 
knew that I couldn't dirty a frock without mother noticing, but hopefully I could hide the 
current outfit each night before returning home so as not to arouse suspicion. I had tried 
to be as sneaky as possible, but I believed I was rather clumsy when it came down to it. I 
feared more than anything that I would be found out by some miniscule factor rather than 
something large. 

	I slowed my gait as the hushed voices came into range. It was mere seconds after 
that that I could see the faint glow of torches in the distance. I paused. I was close. 

	Before going on, I stood still and contemplated what I was doing and why. My 
involvement had risen until I could feel it about to climax – it was all leading up to this 
night. Every other event was not voluntary; Darien had taken me to that makeshift funeral 
because I was unconscious. But tonight…. Tonight, I was making a very decisive choice. 
I was sealing my fortune. And while I knew that there was no chance that I would turn 
back now, I had to assess what exactly I was choosing. I had to make sure that I knew 
what it was I rejecting. I gave a symbolic glance back towards the Patrick land and closed 
my eyes, saying a quick prayer for the occupants and for the slaves. I wasn't sure who 
needed God's help more. 

	I didn't wait to gain strength before barreling on into the reaches of the torches 
glow. Few were about, but things were being exchanged hastily between those that found 
their way there. I immediately spotted Darien and Charles among the half a dozen 
frightened slaves that convened in their own groups, looking just as nervous as I felt. I 
made my way towards the taller men, clearing my throat in announcement. 

	"Well, I'll be…" Charles exclaimed. His shock was replaced quickly by joy, and 
he put a massive paw on my shoulder, drawing me closer.

	"Selena." Darien mumbled, and I watched his features closely, trying to gauge the 
emotion that fueled his tone. He didn't seem enthralled, nor did he seem angered by my 
entrance. I cocked my head to the side, giving less than a moment of contemplation to 
this, and noticed immediately that he didn't appear shocked, either. I don't know why, 
but I was pleased at that. 

	"I couldn't sleep." I said, giving a slight nod in the direction of my land. "I 
thought a walk might clear my head." Darien's expression changed to one of acceptance 
and he smirked. I let a full grin erupt and he simply bobbed his head in an affirmative. 

	"You're in good company then." He mused, casting a sweeping glance at the 
close-knit group that surrounded him. They all appeared friendly, so I assumed (perhaps 
wrongly) that they were of the same household. I then considered the idea that a common 
tribulation might bring even strangers together. Perhaps these slaves were bound together 
not by ownership but by something much stronger. Like circumstances. "All these fine 
gentlemen and ladies seem to be planning the same thing." He turned his attention to a 
map laid on the ground before him as he punctuated his last thought. "Although theirs 
will be considerably longer…."

	"Are they all running away?" I questioned, perhaps naively, but both Charles and 
Darien ignored my ignorance and nodded. 

	"It's dangerous down here. They know that they are one of the major sources of 
contention is our skirmish with the North. Hostilities are growing, and we have to get 
them into Union territory as soon as possible…" Darien replied absently, looking around 
the meager supplies he'd strewn about before him. 

	"There's a network that will help them once they can get to Maryland, but until 
then, we have to make sure they aren't seen." 

	"How?" I prodded. Darien pointed to a few hand-made routes that had been 
plotted.

	"There are a lot more Union sympathizers than your family and most of the South 
would like to think." He smirked. "If we can get them to those safe-houses by daylight, 
they'll have a better chance of getting far.

	"What we're trying to do is give them all the supplies we can gather to last them 
the trip to the next checkpoint." I looked around at the few burlap satchels put together, 
practically flat and frowned. 

	"That's supposed to sustain them? For how long?" I asked, skeptical. 

	"It depends upon where they are going. Some chose Canada; some chose Maine." 
Darien picked up a pack and held it out to me. "This will, hopefully, last for at least 3 
days." 

	I gathered the insides up in my hands and felt a potato, some hard biscuits, nuts, 
dried berries and other assorted items. My eyes widened in disbelief. 

	"That's it?" I blanched. 

	"It's hard to put together something considerable when no store in town will 
accept our business." Charles piped in and I felt the wind deflate out of me. I hadn't even 
considered that possibility. I thought back to the run in with Darien that day at the 
Lumber store, and how his business had been so rudely rejected. Then again, just earlier 
that day, when Charles had yelled obscenities at an industry owner just before I'd 
stumbled upon him. 

	"The entire South is dependent upon slave work. Anyone who might even 
remotely be sympathetic to their humanity is black-balled." I sank down into the dirt at 
those words, and I could see Darien and Charles exchange knowing glances at my 
reaction. I sighed, my earlier feelings of grandeur completely collapsing. There were 
hundreds of workers who needed to be helped; these men were lucky if a couple a night 
were expelled. So, consequently, overwhelming majorities were still suffering, even as I 
sat there. 

	"We're doing what we can, Selena. It's not our job to save everyone." Darien said 
softly, sensing my disturbance. I sucked in a shaky breath and nodded, finding myself 
unable to take my eyes of the cluster of darkies that stood before me. My shoulders 
slumped and I swallowed, pulling my defeated form from the ground. 

	"How do you sleep though?" I asked, to nobody in particular. "How can you rest 
at all, knowing that there are still so many that will never even know you're out here, 
trying to lend a hand?" Darien accepted the honest query thoughtfully putting hand on my 
back and directing my gaze to a short, young slave that stood timidly on the outskirts of 
the clique. He pointed definitively and bent his face close to mine. 

	"See her?"

	I nodded.

	"It matters to her." He responded slowly, almost as if he were hearing this 
explanation for the first time himself. "Even if she doesn't make it to the last destination, 
she'll know she was on her way. And she will remember that no matter the final outcome, 
that there were people who risked their lives for her and her alone.

	"It's not the numbers that matter in this game. It's the faces." He concluded. 

I stood in silence, watching the conglomerate stand taller, more confidently than 
I'd ever seen slaves stand before. I realized that once they made it this far, they were no 
longer someone's property. They could be individuals for the first time in a long time; 
some, for the first time ever. I still mourned the pitiful amount that seemed to turn out 
each night, but I knew Darien was right. If I concentrated on the overwhelming that were 
still suffering then it wouldn't matter how much I tried to help or how much I gave up; I 
wouldn't be able to deal with it. 
	
	"Hey, Peach, you gonna just stand there like a bump on a log, or do you want to 
help?" 
	
	I whirled around, fists balled, almost forgetting myself, prepared to defend my 
honor when I caught the tiny comic glimmer in Darien's eyes and my joints loosened. 
With a jovial smile that should have been out of place under the circumstances he tossed 
me an empty burlap bag and winked.
	
	"Now get to work."


*****


	"It was a good night, Darien."
	
	The taller, slimmer man gave an exhausted smile of agreement to Charles as they 
began to douse their torches and cover up the few telltale signs that something had 
happened.

	"That it was." He replied, almost to himself. "That it was." 

	I couldn't help smiling to myself, feeling slightly out of place among the two 
companions. It was well after midnight – probably 2am, I suspected – when things 
quieted down and the last few stragglers were sent mutely on their way. I looked down at 
my clothing and felt the old habits bubble in the pit of my stomach as I worried about my 
frock's condition. I brushed off dust and hay, but had to scowl at the perspiration stains 
that I knew would not be so easily cast off. It was with a wry air that I admitted that, 
despite my change in attitude, some conventions would not disappear so effortlessly.
	
	I feared that I hadn't done much, but keeping in mind Darien's warnings from 
earlier, I staved off the guilt for the meantime. I was pretty certain, though, that sooner or 
later I wouldn't be able to, and it would wear on me like a wet garment. 

	"Selena."

	I looked up, a little shocked to see Darien's weary mug beaming unabashedly 
down at me as I gathered up the last of the empty bags that were unable to be filled. 
Wiping my damp forehead shakily with the back of my sleeve I returned the gesture, 
albeit a bit shyly.

	"Yes?"

	"Thank you. For all your help."

	I blushed.

	"Ay, ya' done a nice thing here tonight." Charles piped in with that familiar 
amiable inflection. He slapped Darien on the back, who in turn just nodded in agreement. 
I couldn't manage much other than a polite duck of my head, embarrassed, causing 
Charles to erupt in deep, thick peels of laughter. "Even after such a night, she's still got 
'er manners!" 

	"Really though," Darien continued, kneeling down until he was at eye level after 
his burly friend had retreated to finish up. "I greatly admire what you did tonight. I know 
it took a lot of courage." His piercing blue eyes were gleaming with pride as he spoke and 
in spite of my own foolish dignity, I had to admit to myself that knowing he approved 
was like icing on the cake.

	The three of us all took stock of our work one last time, tidying up any loose ends 
and making sure nothing was left unsightly, before departing from the scene that evening. 
We all made the trip in utter silence, each participant reflecting inwardly on the events 
that they had just taken part in. I was sure quite a few prayers were sent up as well; I 
know my mind uttered them continuously. 

	"Well, this is where I leave yer' comp'ny." Charles stated matter of factly as we 
entered the break in the orchards leading to the main road. "I've a room set for me in 
town, and that bed is calling my name." He tipped his hat to us and trotted down the west 
side before disappearing into the clear spring night. 

	"I guess my own room is waiting for me, as well." I spoke in a hushed tone. I 
stared to the north, not wanting to see the small, stacked farmhouse where our own slaves 
slept soundlessly. Beyond that the plantation land stretched out before me, and it was 
only a few hundred feet before I would set down on my inheritance. I exhaled, not taking 
a step. After such a night, I wasn't sure I was going to be able to. 

	"Nervous?" I heard Darien ask to the right of me. I cocked my neck just a bit to 
see him and sighed. 
	
	"I don't know. I guess… hesitant is more like it." I responded, rather shocked at 
my emotions. I should have thought they would be raw and stinging still, but placidity 
was what replaced it. 

	"I love my family, but I just don't feel like a blood relation anymore." I 
backtracked a moment later, rethinking my words. "Or I'm realizing that there are some 
things that are stronger than blood." 

	"Mm." Was all he said it return. He barely made any movement while we stood 
there and after a few moments, my adrenaline was stirred. He was a man of few words, 
and that was beginning to amaze me. I had a tough time figuring him out; he joked when 
he was really serious, he was angry when he really wanted to cry. Furrowing my brow I 
wondered if maybe his lack of speech meant that he really had a lot to say. 

	"Darien…" I started, aiming to get some kind of emotional response from him. I 
wanted to see the humanity inside this enigma of a man who had confounded me for so 
long. I knew that I wouldn't be able to work alongside him, let alone be his friend, until I 
understood why he was the way he was. "Why do you suppose we get along now when 
we couldn't stand the sight of each other all those years ago?" 

	"You couldn't stand the sight of me, eh?" He prodded, smirking gaily. I gave a 
small laugh but only turned to face him in reply. His eyes drifted upwards and the look 
upon his face told me he was deliberating on how to answer. It was as if he wasn't sure 
he wanted to divulge this information to me. 

	"Men and women are completely different on that aspect. If I really couldn't have 
stood the sight of you, I would have avoided you at all costs." He stated, and I chewed on 
the notion for a bit, pondering the way he left the thought dangling. 
	
	"So…." 

	"So," He jumped in. "while you might have loathed me with a passion, I think I, 
on the other hand, was rather intrigued." His face lost its tension as he said the last word, 
and he gave a half smile into the air, apparently lost in his own memories. 

	"Really?"

	"I enjoyed getting a rise out of you any way I could. You were easy to infuriate, 
and that is extremely entertaining to a young boy." He chuckled. My smile faded at the 
simple explanation, betraying the half second I was flattered at the thought that I had 
'intrigued' him. I almost spit out a bitter reply until he continued, once again sounding 
like he was speaking to himself. "I wouldn't have paid you much attention if I didn't 
think, on some level, you weren't self assured enough to take it." It was then that he 
finally faced me, giving me a wide, genuine grin; one I'd never seen on his face before. I 
felt my defenses fall a bit. He was indeed disarming. 

	"You're really unlike any other woman, Selena." He said simply. I was 
completely taken aback. I had just been wondering why he didn't open up more, other 
than to berate the shortcomings of others, and here he blows me out of the water mere 
seconds later with such honesty. I had to laugh, which only confused him. 

	"You don't believe me?" He asked, slightly offended at my rejection of his 
openness. I shook my head. 

	"No, that's not it. I just never thought I'd hear you say that to me, of all people." I 
smirked, turning my gaze back to the road in front of me. "A spoiled, rotten peach." He 
erupted in laughter of his own, and I enjoyed the deep, throaty chuckle, especially after 
such a somber evening spent without so much as a smile. I snuck a glance at his profile, 
almost glowing with the full moon behind it. The striking silhouette was only bolstered 
by his compassionate personality and strong will. He was very beautiful, especially now 
that I no longer thought of him as black-hearted. It was amazing how much your 
perspective of someone could change and with it, turn your whole opinion around. Darien 
was really still the same blunt, assertive, bold man I'd hated just weeks prior. I guess I 
was the one who had woven a whole new foundation for herself and had thus spun a 
different mind. 
	
	"I'm sorry I ever said that to you, Selena." He said, stopping the mood moments 
later with a serious tone. 

	"Please, don't apologize." I inhaled, regret deep in my gut. "When I think back to 
how arrogant I was, even just a few days ago…." I groaned inwardly, rolling my eyes. "I 
don't think a more accurate assessment was ever uttered."

	"Maybe, but I didn't say it to challenge you." He said softly, his eyes now on the 
supple Georgia ground beneath his feet. His countenance was awkward now, and I could 
have sworn I saw him blush. "You're… different. I couldn't get to you, get inside you, 
easily." His breath came out quick as he shook his head in acceptance. "I had to say 
something so callous just to get your attention." 

	I didn't know what that meant. I'd never been good at understanding the opposite 
sex, but my heart fluttered at the idea that he even wanted my attention to begin with. It 
scared me, but that didn't mean I didn't want him to continue. 

	"I hope you're going to be able to keep yourself safe, Selena." He said, his mood 
shifting. 

	"What do you mean?" 

	"This is dangerous work, and you are the first woman to take an interest in it."

	"I can take care of myself, thank you very much." I huffed, my defenses back up. 
I knew I was more than a little upset that our conversation had strayed from the topic of a 
few seconds ago. I couldn't explain why, but I liked the idea of him desiring my 
attention. And I wondered what he thought now that he had it. 

	"I know you can." He smiled wryly. "I have the marks on my cheek to prove it." I 
laughed, astounded at how he had such a knack for making me immediately feel at ease, 
even after he had been the one to upset me in the first place. "I just… don't want to see 
you hurt."

	I mulled over that one thought for what seemed like forever. I don't know where 
it came from, but I blurted out a question before my mind had the chance to really weigh 
it. 

	"Darien," I said, hesitating before my tongue plodded on involuntarily. "What 
would happen if you were to suddenly have my attention?" I could feel my cheeks burn, 
and I was thankful for the cover of darkness. My heart fluttered. "I mean, you went to 
such lengths, as you said, to get it, after all…."

	There was silence on both our parts as we stood, side by side, appearing as 
nothing more than friends to anyone who might happen to catch a glimpse of our solitary 
contours. To the unknowing eye, you'd never know that such a vital and strange inquiry 
had been hung out between us, just waiting to be picked up and answered.

	He finally turned to me and he let his arms hang limply at his sides with a dull 
thud. He gave me quirky grin and I waited, trying to appear patient, but almost salivating 
on the inside. I'd never been acquainted with desire before, but it occurred to me that I 
had met it full on now, and without warning. Suddenly it had inflated inside me and I 
didn't know what to do with it. I was growing more impatient by the second as he just 
stared at me, as if he expected me to answer for him. My forehead wrinkled in frustration. 

	"Darien?"

	Without another second in between breaths, he moved deftly to face me and 
dipped his lips next to mine. They hovered there for what felt like an eternity, eyes 
drifting lazily closed, taking in all my features, still filthy from the nights work in the 
fields. I heard him inhale shallowly and I followed suit, my shock evident as a shiver 
traced its way down my spine. Something I never even knew I wanted was taunting me, 
fluttering just out of my reach. He brushed his lips against my own gently before turning 
to the left and taking in the soft curve of my jaw slowly, silently. I felt my heart constrict 
and my stomach drop suddenly; I had to bite my lip to keep from breathing heavily. 
Without realizing it I'd put a vice-like grip on his bicep, clinging to him as if I were 
drowning. His mouth was slowly making its way up until it found the soft cartilage of my 
ear, which he quickly swept over tenderly, sending incessant shivers down my spine with 
each breath that echoed inside. I licked my lips unknowingly, and he paused, 
imperceptible to anything but my waiting senses; they were begging him to go on. 

	"Do I have your attention now?" He whispered in between the soft touches of his 
lips on my skin. My own lips parted to respond, only to find the only answer I was 
capable of was a small moan, cut off mercifully when he covered my mouth with his 
own. 


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