Blushing brilliantly like the right child she appeared being kissed by an elder cousin, in public no less!, Poppy ducked her a head a touch. She appreciated Atticus’ affections, and his always caring for her, but soon the two of them would have to adjust to her being a proper, debuted young lady. Such things could easily be misconstrued and she balked at the very idea. How wretched it was going to be to have to keep him at a distance… Poppy resolved in that moment not to do so. Let people talk; Atticus was practically the older brother she never had and she was not going to pretend otherwise. She nodded at his wise words and took another sip from her teacup. At Atticus’ story about his purple hair, she couldn’t help but finally crack a smile. Well, if Basil was well enough to be torturing him with childish pranks like hair transfiguration, then she supposed he must be just as well. She still had a horrible pit in her stomach at the idea of ever hurting him, but perhaps... he would be alright after all. (She still wanted to get him a little something today, just to be sure.) When Atticus mentioned her debut however, Poppy felt a fresh wave of nausea hit her and she ducked into her tea again. “I don’t need help,” she said, almost too quietly to be heard. It was unlike Poppy to be so… reserved, especially with Atticus, but she wasn’t sure she was ready to really discuss her debut with him, or anyone, yet. And the exciting parts of it, like her dress and the decorations, would bore him to pieces. He might be a miracle of an older brother, but even the most attentive gentleman glazed over with talk of frocks and flowers. She decided to change topics.
“I do, however, have another confession…” Poppy set her teacup back on its saucer gently and looked up at Atticus then, all abashed reservation and nervous energy. “Please don’t be angry!” She said hastily. “But I… I may have done something, on your behalf.” She offered him a sheepish smile, hoping Atticus wouldn’t frown too terribly.
© Fox