Another day goes (For fitofgrandair and/or checkmystache)

[irma_boissy]

Otro día se va,
y eres mucho más viejo.

(Otro día se va, Los Miserables- Spanish version of "At the end of the day")

Everyday the same.

She wakes the first of all the family. She dresses herself in the corridor to let her sister and her mother sleep a bit more. Grabs a bit of the bread of the day before and the fruit that Helène, her mother's maid, (who hasn't left Mother's shadow even after Father died and they couldn't pay her) has managed to get at the market.

And gets her shawl and a kiss on the cheek from Helène, despite the eternal look of disapproval (You should be married to a nice man, not working in such a place.)

She does open the door and the day, which is barely waking up itself, welcomes her while she walks in direction to the factory, eating the fruit and minding her own business, despite the fact that one can barely do so in the streets of Paris.

 She meets with her co-workers at the door. All of them sleepy eyes and dark circles under them. But also smiles, because they are like sisters. And all seem to be around Rose, who holds a letter. Her boyfriend is coming back to Paris and is going to "ask her an important question".

(Irma could care less about said question, but is happy for Rose).

They enter and begin their work.

While all of them are embroidering, the girls joke that they should find Irma a boyfriend. And make a family of her own. That meets with laughter from Irma. She has a family of her own already, and she was a natural born spinster.

"That lady who will tell stories of all our crazy youths to your grandchildren, ladies."

They all laugh heartily, which gets them a reprimand from the supervisor, and they all continue in silence till the day reaches its end.

The end of the day and she begins the path back home after she says "See you tomorrow" to the girls.

It was another day, after all.

Comments

[fitofgrandair]

He could almost swear that she would have taken to the dandelion even without his elucidation. Fortune has struck again, if so, and he almost wonders whether his run of luck is reaching an end. Everything about this encounter has passed exceptionally well; the bestowal of charm, the quirks that create increased interest, and even this play at courtship. While Grantaire welcomes women and men who are entirely unconcerned with such preliminaries, this is (for the time being, at least) an agreeable change.

In this breed of engagement, the slightest gestures are magnified, and each sound seems strung out into song... If only one is open to its reception. And even as Grantaire thinks his way through the experience, he feels himself immersed in the beauty of it (ingrained or perceived, does it matter?), catches the charm of the scene, of her every feature, and writes it all within.

He allows his hand to linger after registering her touch, pausing mid-stride and fixing her with a warm smile. "Then may I rejoice in my existence, that I can make an Irma Boissy smile."

And why not? A small gesture, another brief brush... Reaching forward - gently, lightly - he touches her cheek. Then retreats, hand returning to his side, simply taking her in, holding to the sensation of that touch, watching its effect on her.

[irma_boissy]

The reaction to that at first is a (very controlled) surprise, (he's touched her cheek hehastouchedhercheekhehastouchedhercheel).

And the next thing she does is lower her face because the blush on her cheeks does make her look like a tomato, and the nervousness is not helping at all. By this time, others would have received quite the slap or quite a cutting reply.

But this time she is smiling quite widely indeed, as she holds the flower a bit close to her chest. She might be trying to form a coherent phrase at the moment, though her actions speak more than her words.

They are approaching the Boissy house, a small family house with a small but very well kept front garden, though they are still going to have some time together.

[fitofgrandair]

Her reaction is marvelously endearing; there is something immediate and unplanned about it, even something surprisingly naive for a girl who seems so clear-minded. Grantaire has elicited any number of responses from potential pursuits in the past, but this is a new experience, welcoming and inexplicably warm in a way he has not known. It is... gratifying, in a way (unsettling, too, in a dimmer and not-quite-graspable sense; mostly, he doesn't notice this, what it suggests and what he ought to see).

"You needn't hide your face, Mademoiselle; indeed, the world must weep to lose sight of such a wonder. What is the harm, what shame in blushing? This coloration shows only that your heart beats with especial sensibility, that you have not hardened yourself against the workings of this so confounding world. Who is to blame you for such laudable endurance? Who is to blame you for holding onto hope? If anyone has the right to hope, it is a lovely young lady!

"You are, truly, a charming creature."

[irma_boissy]

"Merci, Monsieur Grantaire." She manages to say, her face still lowered.

But Irma does look up at Grantaire for a moment, a smile on her face that even though is small, expresses an amount of happiness that she wouldn't probably manage to convey with words.

That until she looks in front of her and see they have already reached the door of chez Boissy.

"Well, I am afraid this is the end of our walk..." She stops in front of the very same door.

(She may or may not admit it, but she would have liked this to be longer.)

[fitofgrandair]

"I might wish that you resided far beyond this city - yes! - beyond this country, in Vienna, in Venice, in Athens, that our shared excursion might continue indefinitely." He isn't particularly keen on remaining before her house (and still so strange that she has led him here so swiftly and so willingly), not if it is populated with the family members indicated earlier, not if there is the possibility of being caught up in some related awkwardness. He cannot simply dash off, however. First, because that isn't how the game is played; this young woman requires at least a bit of delaying. And then, yes, all right, he is perhaps a bit reluctant to leave, himself. Her company really is heartening, even enlivening, and he is sorry to lose it so soon. Can't be helped, though, and doesn't he already have more than he had expected?

"Still, what is it they say? 'Parting is such sweet sorrow.' Such a sentiment I might mock, yet cannot help but feel, striking deep within my breast. I am a man most wounded, for all of my charades, and I wail internally that I must release you.

"I am calmed only by the knowledge that your image and your voice have worked their way into my memory and soul. You may go, Irma Boissy, but I will hold your recollection as if you remained by my side."

[irma_boissy]

She doesn't want to let go, precisely knowing that the house is empty at the moment and a bit more of time together won't hurt. Not completely empty (Helène is there), but it is as if it were.

And she does wonder if she'll see him again. She does hope it will happen.

In the meanwhile...

"Maybe I could give you a small present to sweeten that sorrow" she finally says "But first, I need you to close your eyes."

[fitofgrandair]

Though Grantaire wonders, he doesn't hesitate; it won't do to keep a lady waiting, after all. He closes his eyes, smiling somewhat. "Much as I am loathe to lose your sight, I cannot but obey.

"I only fear that I may look again to see that you have been but a dream, one of the happiest figments of my imagination."

[irma_boissy]

"You'll still find me quite real, Monsieur, don't fret" she says in a joking tone.

And with that, Irma gets closer to Grantaire. Feeling bolder than what she had initially planned, she plants a kiss on his lips. It's soft, and quite chaste and short, but there it is.

She does step back to await his reaction.

[fitofgrandair]

Lovely girl, she's done precisely what he could have wished. He cannot say what she intends by it or whether she knows her own intention, but it is welcome, flattering, even a bit surprising. Because she has taken the step of her own accord, and to receive such a favor from so exemplary a lady is nothing to be simply shrugged away.

He allows himself to remain as he is for a moment, reveling in the knowledge of her kiss, then opens his eyes and clasps one of her hands in his own.

"Mademoiselle, you astonish me. You confound even my capacity for words, and I can only hope that I may prove myself worthy of this favor." He offers a kiss of his own, light and planted on the back of her hand. "It has been both a pleasure and an honor, Irma Boissy."

[irma_boissy]

Irma smiles with the happiness of someone that feels themselves loved (even though not knowing how much) even though her eyes show the melancholy of parting.

"A pleasure and an honour that I share gladly." she finally says as she opens the door and looks one last time at him.

(It doesn't matter that two familiar faces may be observing them from afar, Irma's gaze is only for Grantaire at this moment.)

This time, she says it meaning it fully.
"Au revoir, Monsieur Grantaire."

[fitofgrandair]

He recognizes the invitation in those words, the desire and the wistfulness. Beautiful, indeed.

"Au revoir, Mademoiselle Boissy." He offers a final bow, less exaggerated, more a gesture of reluctant parting. He doesn't intend to make this the last of their meetings, and has in fact already begun to make plans of leaving a bouquet of dandelions at her door. Late tonight, or perhaps tomorrow night, when no one stirs and he may simply leave the flowers to be discovered in the morning.

For now, he vows to hold her eyes as long as she will allow. It is not his place in this instance to turn aside, and in any case he would like to take in as much of the vision as he may before departing. (Because who can say... She may seem quite caught up now, but the new day may bring a change of mind. Affection shifts quickly, and this encounter may have been a passing fluke.)

Whatever the case may be, whether or not he may encounter her again... This has been an evening well spent, and a meeting to live on in pleasant recollection.

[irma_boissy]

As for her, she'll dream of him tonight. Of their kiss, of the flowers, of his smile and his touch. Of how would his embrace feel.

And hope they'll meet again. (She knows her affections will not change, he's here to stay in her heart.)

She closes the door slowly, not losing eye contact with him at all until it closes completely, and when it does, it takes all her strength to not try and open it again.

She tells herself that, after all, they will see each other again.