“Good things come in small packages.”
His eyes grazed across her ass. “Aye. That they do.”
Harper’s collar felt tight. She stood up, brushing the wrinkles from her jeans and continuing along the trail.She sensed that same fire burn a hole in her back and knew he was still admiring her, which almost made her forget how to walk.
As they wandered over swirling paths and meandered through heather-dappled woods, the beginnings of a story began to take shape in her mind. It was only a glimmer, a couple of words here and there, but the images flashed in front of her like scenes from a movie. Taffeta whispering across pine needles. Heavy boots trailing behind. Maybe even gossamer wings of the mythical beings she’d mocked not so long ago. She’d been very much enjoying her journey into fairy literature, after all.
Hastily, she riffled through her suede shoulder bag, pulling out the contents in a wild panic to find her stationery. “We need to stop. My brain is finally working like an author’s and I need to write before I forget everything.”
Fraser caught her belongings, bewildered. A pile of all sorts of rubbish she’d forgotten to clear out of her bag since last autumn grew in his hands, then spilled into his arms. An old makeup bag with brushes and loose powder. A hairbrush with bent bristles. A bag of Haribo sweets – “You can have them, if you want,” she offered. “Haribos don’t expire, do they?”
“The gummy bears’ faces have melted,” he replied, scrutinising the colourful sweets before catching another round of rubbish, including several receipts and a bar of chocolate melted into the shape of her house keys.
Of course, her notebook had fallen to the very bottom as the heaviest thing inside. She shifted from foot to foot impatiently as she finally dragged it out along with her pen. “Okay—”
“Give that here,” he interrupted, gently tugging the strap of her purse over her head so he could begin putting her things back inside. He opened the sweets, throwing a cola bottle up in the air and catching it in his mouth.
She arched an eyebrow. “Impressive.” Secretly, she also found it strangely attractive, but right now, she had other things to worry about – such as the bestseller coming to life in her head.
“Turn around,” she demanded. “I need a flat surface.”
Fraser appeared amused. “Or we could go and sit on that bench by the loch.” He pointed beyond the trees, and she followed the direction to find they had, in fact, circled back around to the other side of Loch Teàrlag. The water lapped like the tide onto the silty shore, and benches decorated with wilting flowers looked upon the vast view.
She ran between the trees, through overgrown, wet blades of grass and wilting heather, and seated herself on the first bench she came to, wincing when the damp seeped into her trousers. But she couldn’t care about that now. She opened a fresh page in her notebook, jotting down the new, fictional world yawning open in her mind. She’d thought about starting with a children’s book, assuming, probably incorrectly, that it would be easier for her to write a shorter work without all the complications of adult life, but the characters she was envisioning now were her age. Two people colliding in a timeless, far-off place. They didn’t have names or faces yet, but she saw their lives weaving through the forest. She saw fairy friends and a shelter among the trees.
She was only vaguely aware of Fraser’s presence warming her side, and worked hard to tune out the sounds of him chewing on her melted sweets.“So, what are you writing? Will it be inspired by your trip?”
“Shh!” she hissed sharply, hand aching as she kept writing. When he tried to peer over her shoulder, she shimmied down to the end of the bench. “You’ve distracted me enough this week.”
“Oh, so I’m distracting?” He kicked out his legs, wearing a self-satisfied expression that made her own lip curl. His cockiness was all for show. She’d seen beyond it already, seen him act kind and loving and humble. He just liked to tease her.
“You’re annoying,” she muttered.
“You love it.”
That, she couldn’t deny. Her mouth tugged up at the corner, proving it, but she kept her eyes trained on her page.
Fraser stayed quiet as she worked, growing still as he surveyed the view. He relaxed finally, pressing himself into the bench and resting an arm behind her back. Across the water, the lights of the Raindrop Café twinkled, and Captain Angus’s tall, beloved trees reflected in the bleak grey surface of the loch.
The quiet that had fallen upon them was disarming once she crawled out of her busy brain for long enough to become aware of it. Harper couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so at ease.
It wasn’t just being here. His presence offered peace, like he was an anchor grounding her into the here and now. Before, she’d forgotten that the here and now existed. She was too busy trying to perform all the time.Too busy thinking of the next interesting or funny thing to say, or filling the silence by posting online. Too busy trying to predict a future that remained terrifyingly uncertain.
Harper’s pen hovered over the page, as she found herself suddenly relieved that she wasn’t currently wallowing in the flat she and Kenzie had shared in Salford. Had she ever felt so comfortable there, with her?
“Finished?” Fraser asked, yanking her out of her thoughts so quickly that she flinched.
“Um…” She looked down at her page and could no longer remember what she wanted to write next. She’d been so certain that she’d found her story, but all at once, it was gone. Her brain was white noise, a million questions buzzing like static until they blurred into one. “The inspiration has passed, I think.”
“Well, you got something down. That’s progress, eh?”
It didn’t feel like it. It felt like, by letting Kenzie intrude on her thoughts again, she’d fallen back five steps after walking forwards only six. She sighed, closing the book and setting it aside to take in the view.
“Your magical Fairy Trail worked,” she admitted, wrapping her jacket tighter. “I can tick it off my list.”
Fraser scanned the area, then smirked mischievously. “We could cross something else off, if you wanted.”
She frowned. “What d’you mean?”
