So work has had me going to bed at 4am and getting up at 12pm, to go to work at 2. But I'm trying to fix that. I'm working out a writing schedule. Every night, 10pm-12am, I'm going to write. Then I'm going to bed and getting up at 10am, hopefully eventually backing it up to 8. I'll let y'all know how my plan works. ;)
PS. It's short… but it's something, right? I WILL start making these longer, I promise.
Erik continued the rest of the dinner in silence and excused himself back to his room at an appropriate time. He fought internally with himself till his eyes felt like lead and his body ached from exhaustion. He couldn't be here. It was insane. He was going insane. Well… was he ever sane to begin with? Erik finally sat on the single bed in the corner of the small room and put his head in his hands.
Was he ready to admit to himself that Claire Holloway caught his eye? The way her red curls fell down or back or her dark brown eyes that were so deep you could fall into them… No. Erik was intrigued by her hospitality, her gentleness- nothing more.
Claire was facing similar feelings in her room at the other side of the inn… there was a hall just for her family. A small one, only four rooms. The parents, the girls, and the boys. When Claire moved back in with her baby girl, she got the extra room to herself.
She convinced herself she was intrigued by his mystery. Which was understandable, she told herself, for the fact he's mysteriously shown up in town with a mask preventing to see his face and a story he's from France. It would send any sensible women for a loop… right? Claire sighed and turned over in her bed, careful not to disturb her little girl in her crib a few feet away. She shook her head, she was being foolish. She closed her eyes and forced these thoughts out of her head.
The next day was uncomfortable for Erik. He didn't know where he fit in, what to do or say. There was so much freedom here, he didn't know what to do. He wasn't confined to his dark catacombs. Erik woke up to sunlight pouring in his room through the window. He stared at it so long, by the time he walked into the kitchen, breakfast was cleaned up, and Claire was putting away dishes while a young girl sat at her feet, playing with a rag doll. She had to of been 2 or 3, with brown curls that fall to her shoulders. She looked up at him with the same big brown eyes as Claire.
"Good morning." Claire greeted, looking back at Erik, "I'm sorry, you missed breakfast. But I can whip you something up real quick."
She put down the plate in her hand, but he declined, "Oh, don't go through that trouble. I was going out anyway."
"Oh, all right." Claire replied, and went back to her dishes. The little girl still stared up at him and it was making him fidget.
There was an awkward pause, before Erik asked, "Is this your daughter?"
She turned back to him and grinned. "Oh yes, my pride and joy, Gracie." Claire looked down at her. "She probably thinks your mask is pretty, too." She laughed and a smile formed on Erik's lips. She glanced down at her hands, making his eyes jerk to see what she was seeing. For the first time, he noticed there were tan gloves covering her tiny hands, going to her elbow. Claire looked up and quickly turned her back to him, avoiding his eyes. She put away the last dish, trying to hide her hands.
"Um, well. I hope you enjoy your day, sir. There should always be someone at the front counter if it so happens you need any help.", Claire said, before scooping Gracie up and leaving the room.
Leaving Erik to wonder what secrets she's hiding and the desire to find them out.
myet this feeling in chestred cruls fell down her back,red