They were talking about traditions. Poppy had just dreamt up a new one – one just for them, a promise to spend a little time together until one of them married. It was as depressing as it was endearing, and both feelings churned in his gut simultaneously. Their time together – on New Year’s Eve, and perhaps in general, free and easy, like this – already had an expiration date. She would be married sooner rather than later. He supposed so would he.
He had led her down the hallway without much thinking about where they were going, besides away from everyone else, and he glanced from the clock in the hallway to a pair of large windowed French doors at the end of the hall that looked like they opened onto a balcony. Well, it looked deserted enough. Not that he had any purposes – but if this was his chance for her company, he certainly wasn’t about to share it with any other friends of hers.
“You mean like singing Auld Lang Syne in a stupid circle or giving people presents or thinking about the future?” Kris scoffed, because he would be doing none of the above if he could help it. He didn’t care to think about the future, didn’t care to be merry and jovial, had no mind for stupid superstitions and hadn’t planned ahead far enough to have any New Year’s gifts to offer Poppy for good fortune.
He shot her a look, narrow-eyed and mocking at first to express what he thought of that question, but it faded to general curiosity in spite of himself. (The annoying fact was that he wanted to know what Poppy thought of things. Of anything. He – was just interested in her.) “Tell me you don’t.” His gaze flickered back over his shoulder to the grandfather clock just behind them, and then back to her with an eyebrow arched, outwardly long-suffering and internally fond. “What exactly would you have us do to mark the occasion?”
He had led her down the hallway without much thinking about where they were going, besides away from everyone else, and he glanced from the clock in the hallway to a pair of large windowed French doors at the end of the hall that looked like they opened onto a balcony. Well, it looked deserted enough. Not that he had any purposes – but if this was his chance for her company, he certainly wasn’t about to share it with any other friends of hers.
“You mean like singing Auld Lang Syne in a stupid circle or giving people presents or thinking about the future?” Kris scoffed, because he would be doing none of the above if he could help it. He didn’t care to think about the future, didn’t care to be merry and jovial, had no mind for stupid superstitions and hadn’t planned ahead far enough to have any New Year’s gifts to offer Poppy for good fortune.
He shot her a look, narrow-eyed and mocking at first to express what he thought of that question, but it faded to general curiosity in spite of himself. (The annoying fact was that he wanted to know what Poppy thought of things. Of anything. He – was just interested in her.) “Tell me you don’t.” His gaze flickered back over his shoulder to the grandfather clock just behind them, and then back to her with an eyebrow arched, outwardly long-suffering and internally fond. “What exactly would you have us do to mark the occasion?”
