Yves pov

I look at Cyril and hand him a cigarette. He turns it down. "I've decided not to smoke for a while." I shrug and light it. I look at Cyril. I feel lost, especially on days like this. "Is there something Yves?" I sigh and close my eyes. "I think so, but I don't know what." He nods. "I have that too." "Why is the world the way it is?" Cyril shrugs. "You should learn to look at the beauty in the world sometime Yves, you don't have to understand it to find it beautiful. Just look Yves, look at the stars, the moon, the trees, yourself, that girl just now, there are so many beautiful things." "Maybe you're right. But why do I want to undestand it so badly?"

Enoch pov

I sit in the frame of my window and look at the moon. I sketch a face with my crown dip pen. It is a face that might scare people, but I try to draw a softness in it that would reassure somebody, or me at least. I put away my sketchbook and look at the moon. I feel so alone in the crowd. No one is like me, I close the curtains and go to sleep.

The next morning I go with my father to the Montagues; there is a new project for my father. The mansion is incredibly beautiful and the lord and lady are both dressed in the finest fabrics. My father is busy and I feel a bit lost when the lord says I can wander around the house. I walk through the seemily endless corridors. I find a very large door and open it. It is a hall bigger than any ballroom I have ever seen. All the walls are covered with books. There are so incredibly many books, I wonder how many secrets of the world you could unravel with these books. There are ladders, balconies, maps and globes. I walk past the books and run my hands along their spines. "Beautiful, aren't they?" says someone. I am startled by him. He holds out his hand. "I'm Yves montague and you must be Mister Blythe's son." I nod. "I'm Enoch." "Would you like to read something, Enoch? You seem to be rather fond of books." "If I might." "What interests you?" "A lot." I hesitate, but say it anyway; "something that really shouldn't interest me but does. Ancient religions." He smiles and slides the ladder to a specific section. He grabs a book. "Pagan religions, Greek, Sumerian." He hands me five books. "You can borrow them if you want" "Wow, thank you." "Take them outside. We are playing tennis." I walk with him. There a girl and a boy are playing tennis. "That's Cyril and that's Frances. Cyril, Frances say hello." "Hi!" shouts the boy who is apperently called Cyril. Frances waves. "You are so incrdibly polite," says Yves sarcastically. "This is Enoch." We sit down on the steps of the mansion and he starts telling me about ancient religions. "Did you know that mistletoe was sacred to Germanics and Celts? A druid is said to have cut a mistletoe from the sacred oak tree. The branch was not allowed to touch the ground and was collected in a white cloth. It was said to help against disease and calamity." I look at him, his face looks like he knows everything in the world. I want to be like this boy. I want to be myself just like this boy is himself. My father approaches me. "We have to go son." "You can keep these two," Yves says. He hands me two books. "What kind of books are they?" my father asks menacingly. I want to answer, but Yves is answers for me. "It's about Latin sir," My father nods and smiles. Yves winks at me. "I hope I see you more often Enoch." "Me too Yves." Yves turns to my father "You have a beautiful daughter, I think it would be very nice to get somewhat aquainted with her." "That would be perfect." my fathers answers. "Do you still want to stay for a game of tennis?" Yves asks. "No thank you, we still have a lot to do." They shake hands.

Frances pov

Cyril and Yves are playing against me and my mother. My mother is extremely good at tennis, but unfortunately Yves is also very good at it. Cyril and I basically just kind of watch the two of them have some kind of war over who is better at tennis. "We really need to find new people to play tennis with" Cyril says. I laugh "I agree, but they have to be just as bad as we are." He laughs now. "What did I miss?" asks Yves and he looks at Cyril which result in the the ball hitting his head. I laugh at him. "haha very amusing" he says. Cyril giggles a little and even mother laughs. "You are going to be the death of me one day" He says to Cyril  "Definitely" He responds. Mother suggests we go inside. Me and Yves clean up while the others go inside already. "Did you like the ball yesterday?" he asks. "Sure, I could not complain." He nods. "Have you got your eye on somebody?" I ask jokingly. He shakes his head "If you are reffering to the thing I think you ae reffering to. No, She's nice, but just think what would happen if I married her. Father would be absolutely furious." he answers "Is that the only reason you talked to her?" I ask. He shakes his head. "She is intelligent and intellectual, I couldn't get anything better. She is different from the women of high society. And you like her." I look at the ground. "I don't quite understand what you are implying Frances do you want me to marry her or..." He stops and looks at me. "Oh, I think I get it." He taps me on my shoulder. "I haven't decided anything yet, and I wonder if Eleanor would even want to get married. Especially to somebody like me" I look at him "have you ever been in love Yves?" he looks down now and clears his throat. "No, certainly not. shall we go inside?" I nod.

We walk into the house. "Sorry if I said something wrong." he whispers. I shake my head and give him a hug. "Sometimes things are just harder for us than for other people." He nods. "I know." Cyril comes over to Yves and hands him a book. "This is the about the twelfth time you've borrowed it this year. I know it's a great book but maybe you should buy your own version." He smiles. "I have my own, I just love reading your notes in it." I suddenly notice Yves cheeks turning red and he wants to say something but chokes on his own saliva. I try not to laugh at it, but I can't hold it in. Cyril hands him the book. "Which book was it?" "Oscar Wilde, The Portrait of Dorian Gray." "Oh never read it" I want to grab it but he holds it over his head. "Buy your own version, you're not going to read my notes." I pout. He laughs and I laugh with him.