Eager Love

The unexciting, burdensome day arrived when Histoire would have to leave the house once again, and she could not refrain from sighing from the annoyance she felt.

She was not intently keen on attending her lectures with the primary purpose of proceeding with her academic studies. Jotham, along with some friends of equal concern advised that she make sure a second career choice was easily accessible in case her first would disappoint her. Never had she been so gratified for not proceeding with the idea of quitting university because the prediction came to be dependable upon.

Tens of opportunities were presented to her and only a small space on a single page of two magazines published was what she managed to procure. Such was considered as too little to no prosperity, yet, to the eyes of the viewers, it was enough to grant Histoire their veneration. It took no effort to discover she lived quite a conventional lifestyle; one they could easily disturb.

Before the sun could warm the atmosphere with its lustrous rays of light, Jotham opened the door to find Histoire peacefully positioned with her back against her bed frame, in an upright position. She was galvanized from her sopor an hour prior, and, seemingly deep in thought, she once again fell asleep, but this time in a sitting position.

Upon flipping the light switch, Histoire's eyes fluttered open and she frantically turned her head to the door, surprised to see the pink-haired boy fully dressed and prepared to start his day.

"Histoire, did you sleep well?" Jotham asked, lowering his voice which radiated concern. He approached her bed and sat down beside her. Half awake, she nodded slowly and tossed the sheets aside.

"Don't worry about me. What about you? I'm sorry you had to wake up so early just for me," she replied remorsefully. Her eyes were a dull green, no longer the glazed orbs that reflected life. Jotham wondered what could have tormented her from her sleep and into a brooding disposition.

"I was planning on clocking into work early, anyway," he answered with a heavy sigh. The color returned to her eyes and she once again realized she was not the only person plagued with a sense of despondency. Leaving Histoire to her own volition was different from letting her roam outside in that state. He considered attending the morning lessons with her and asking for another day off from work, but he did not want to take advantage of what he did not earn.

When all has been considered, the seven days of leave Jotham received from Deus were because the latter wished to attain his countenance. Jotham never voiced it, but he did not appreciate it. He was well contented to receive the opportunity to take care of Histoire, but he was perturbed by Deus' incitement.

It was evident that Deus was gradually dispossessed of Jotham's wonderment, however, he retained his deference earned for his repute, accomplishment and clout. He at least earned that much from Jotham. Jotham would not have wanted to work anywhere else still. Histoire hoped Deus scouted him for his talent rather than for his own personal agenda.

"Jotham, don't force yourself. If you feel you aren't interested in going today-"

She spoke as she stood up, then suddenly felt a surging pain in her ankle that caused her to wince. It subsided no sooner than a second later. Jotham was compelled to stand up and give her some support, but she assured him she was fine.

"That should be my line," he answered with a sigh. In fact, it applied to both of them, though neither wanted to evade their responsibilities. Having realized the direness of the position her future was in, Histoire felt motivated to attend the lectures and catch up on the material she missed.

She walked with a slight limp that was barely noticeable until one was close enough to tell she was injured.

"I want you to pursue what you love, Jotham. Don't let anything discourage you," Histoire said as she walked to the door and went to the nearest bathroom. Jotham really did want to consider her suggestion, but not in the way she thought. He wanted to follow her and take her in his arms, then block out the entire world as though only the two of them existed and nothing else mattered. But the right time for such a bold move was not then.

Entering and exiting the bathtub without exacerbating her foot was a difficult and unavoidable task. An alternative such as a shower required Histoire to stand for a long time and was not recommended by Dr. Amin. The only vexing part of the morning's preparation was the bathtub, but everything else was able to be completed without struggle.

Histoire found Jotham standing by the door when she reached the indoor balcony. Before he noticed her appear in her usual guise with her backpack in hand, he had been fiddling with his car eyes while his eyes said he was staring off into a distant abyss. He looked up when he did notice her, instantly snorting as an attempt to hold in his laughter.

She scoffed and her lips formed a moue of annoyance. She made her way down the stairs and to the table where her laptop was placed.

"I'm surprised not one officer has stopped you in the streets for your terrible outfit yet. You should be glad I'm driving you there from now on," she heard him joke, packing her laptop into her backpack. Histoire wore her disguises as an attempt to be inconspicuous, however, only irony was revealed in her situation as the outfit brought more attention than she liked, still, not more than what her real face would.

"How's your mother?" Histoire asked after Jotham's blatant attempt to irradiate the taciturn mood. Jotham's voice had echoed from his bedroom to the bathroom, and Histoire was instantly able to tell he was conversing with Keren over the phone. Keren had a tendency to worry excessively, something Jotham inherited from her.

Still, Histoire was very fond of her. Keren could never fill the cavity Histoire's mother left behind but she was the closest person that Histoire felt could take up the role, like a second mother.

"When I informed her I would be moving in with you, I had to stop her from packing her bags when I explained why," he started and Histoire could not suppress the smile that crawled onto her face.

"I wonder how you managed to change her mind," she said, turning to face him. He shrugged his shoulders and sighed with a chuckle.

"It was not easy, I can tell you that. Sorry, Histoire. I had to tell her the real reason she could not come along. She saw right through me." Histoire nodded and picked up her backpack once again. Keren was comparably as refractory as she was. She was not susceptible to guile or lies either.

"You know, I wish I could see her right now. But I'm very deep in this mess and I don't want to put her in danger," Histoire muttered and walked towards the door, where Jotham reached for the handle and pulled it to open.

"Believe me, I cannot express how much she wants to see you. Apart from me and my father, you are the third closest person to her... They both think of you as their daughter," Jotham said to feel an abysmal cavity cultivate in his chest region when a what could be described as a beautiful smile appeared on her face.

Jotham loved that Histoire took comfort in Keren as a mother of her own, however, it came at a terrible expense. He was certain his love for her could never possibly unfold under such familial conditions.

Keren was perceptive and observant, and as a result, she came to suspect her son was enamored with Histoire, although he never disclosed his feelings to anyone. She was aware that Histoire was in love with someone else; someone as intimate and close as Jotham was.

Even though her son had a snow ball's chance in hell at receiving an opportunity to confess his love to Histoire, Keren still hoped to see the two together. After the trials of life and their own tribulations they underwent together, it was evident that the two belonged together.

Histoire turned to face him when she came to a halt by him by the door, and leaned in closer to embrace his form.

"I love you," she muttered. Jotham's capability of speech abandoned him for a few seconds and his heart raced faster than it had ever done before. Nonetheless, he subconsciously returned the embrace, running his fingers through the dark, green wig.

"I love you, too, Histoire." The hug did not last as long as he had desired, as being so close to Histoire and feeling the warmth of her body was enchanting. But they both had places to head over to so he reluctantly let her go and watched as she approached his red and blue striped Shelby in the driveway. He took in the full sight of her figure with a sigh, then he locked the door.