𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜

MARY QUICKLY FIXED HER HAIR after hearing two knocks on the door.

"Coming!" She called as she looked up at her reflection gazing into her own eyes. Her eyes, that shone the colour of dampened soil in the summer.

She had curled her dark locks, that always danced in between a black and brown, so that they hung in more waves than curls.The creamy sheets of the black and white silk dress slipped onto her shoulders, peppering her body with soft, sensual kisses as she walked to the door of her home.

There, at the other side of the wooden door was Finn Shelby.

The boy was perfection in coffee hues; his hair and eyes were the colour of dark roasted beans but his skin was all latte. Mary took note of how he had that shy look about him teens often get when they've grown too much too fast, like they aren't really sure about being a man just yet. He was skinny, but the way his clothes hung gave away the muscle beneath; and always in his wake Mary knew heads would turn to watch him pass.

"Hi." He whispered, his breathe getting caught in the flowing breeze as he stared at her.

"Hello..." She said softly looking down at her shoes.

"You...uh...you look good. You look pretty, gorgeous even." He  told her, the words spilling from his mouth uncontrollably.

"Thanks." She smiled as a rouge colour formed on her cheekbones.

"You look nice too! Very smart" she added, as they continued to stand at the door.

A silence hung over them. Neither Finn or Mary had done anything like this and neither of them  knew who was to move first.

"So where are you taking me?" She asked locking her door and turning to face him.

"The theatre on Station Street" He said shyly.

Truth be told Finn hated silent films, however he remembered Mary talking about them during their second study session together, about how she loved it when her mother took her many years ago.

"You're taking me to the theatre?" A look of pure bliss passing her features.

Anxiety bubbled inside his rib cage, as he began to feel sick to his stomach.

"Is that not alright?" He asked the worry consuming him.

Mary seemed to catch on to this rather quickly however.

"No no no! It fine, perfect actually." She giggled softly.

The last vestiges of the setting sun disappeared over the horizon. The copper hues giving way to a dusty purple scattered with the occasional glitter of a faraway star. The distant chimneys and factories stood silhouetted against a velvety sky, the golden dusk enveloped by the twilight sky as they walked along the cobbled streets.

Soon enough they arrived at the theatre and took their seats. Settling against the soft material that comforted their backs.

Halfway through the silent film Finn gazed around. He spied a couple, probably a few years older than Mary and himself, the boys arm was wrapped securely around his partners shoulder pulling her into his chest. At the sight Finn shifted uncomfortably. He didn't know how to act and clearly the tips from Ada didn't really help. So he settled with enclosing his hand around hers.

When Evelyn felt his hand she froze. She looked sharply at the people in front of her as he took her hand into his. His hand felt like sandpaper or perhaps stone, rough and unfinished. It suited him, she thought, looking forward, her cheeks reddening.

Her hands were like the missing puzzle piece to Finns. Her hand fixed perfectly in his, her long and thin fingers, completing the space left in his hand.

The fading of the sunlight had also unfortunately meant the fading of the heat. Wintry air swirled around Mary taking every lick of warmth it could. She wrapped her arms tighter around herself, pulling Finn's coat, which had managed its way around her shoulders on the walk home, around her small body.

Somehow on the way home Finn managed to slyly slip his hand back into Mary's enclosing it for the remaining walk home.

However, they soon came to the front steps of her home. 'Sadly' thought Finn as he glared at the building. He slowly moved his gaze down to Mary, to already have her looking at him.

He remembered when he first looked upon her face, it was not on the perfect features that he dwelled - not the gold flecked brown eyes, nor the pomegranate pink lips. Instead it was the small blemishes and insecurities that allured him. The shy smile, the slightly crooked tooth, the small scar that rested on her forehead. Which Finn was told all about on the way home from the theatre.

They stared back at each other for what seemed like hours until she finally dropped her gaze, “I want to try something,” her voice was quieter now, less sure. She looked back up at him; a gentle flush of pink had arisen in her cheeks that made her look vulnerable. Finn held his breath as she leaned up on the tips of her toes and tentatively pressed her soft lips to his. His head had gone hazy; his body became stagnant at the sensation of her lips against his.

'So this is what a kiss feels like?' They both wondered.

He kissed her and the world fell away. It was slow and soft, comforting in ways that words would never be. His hand rested below her ear, his thumb caressing her cheek as their breaths mingled. She ran her fingers down his spine, pulling him closer until there was no space left between them and she could feel the beating of his heart against her chest.

"Goodnight." She quickly whispered as she pulled away. Biting her lip to stop the smile that was forcing its way upon her face.

Then she was gone, however Finn still remained on her doorstep. His body frozen in shock. A smile soon graced his features too.

Finn was sure he had never felt so happy.