I don't like a gold rush

These past days had been torment. She wasn't even sure how long it had been now, with the way the days blurred together as she clouded her every thought. It distracted her endlessly, worry and confusion and insecurity taking over. Anxiety kept her up at night and plagued her dreams, causing her to lose sleep and become extra jittery. She wasn't even sure what it was exactly that she had felt that day and continued to feel; only that it was very, very bad news.

A little distraction would be good for her, she thought, and besides: it wasn't like she could just stop showing her face. So she'd agreed to play with Poppy and some of their other friends, a thick layer of white powder put on to try to mask the dark circles under her eyes. It worked, but it could not hide the way she was chewing on her bottom lip or twisting the ends of her long, blonde hair. Usually it was neatly pinned up, but with the large sun hat that she had to wear if she wanted to play outside it was impossible to fit all of her hair underneath. So she was wearing it in two braided pigtails instead, the lengths covering more than half of her back.

She was just picking out her mallet when Poppy's voice sounded. Vivienne? No, surely she couldn't-- Her head shot up at the mention of that name and sure enough, there she was. Dressed in a black dress, the sun reflecting on her exposed arms as if they were made of marble. Her eyes immediately fell back down again, seemingly very occupied with the important task of picking out the right mallet to play with. Her heartbeat was already picking up speed as she started panicking a little. This wasn't supposed to happen, she wasn't supposed to be here. But she was and Alison knew that there was no use in continuing to pretend not to notice her. In fact, Vivienne had probably seen the way she'd responded already.

Alison was a lot of things, but she was not a coward. So while she wanted nothing more than to duck her head and hope that her hat covered her blushed cheeks, she forced herself to look up again for just a moment, forced herself to find her eyes. "Howard." followed by a curt nod was all she could muster, though, and she turned around and in a brisk walk headed towards the first hoop. She ignored the butterflies in her stomach that had fluttered up again at the sight of her grey eyes, cursing at the power she had over her.

This would be a long afternoon.

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There was a small part of her that held on to the false hope that maybe Vivienne would leave her alone. That she had disappointed her so much the other day that she wouldn't want to waste any more words to taunt her. It would be bad enough that she was here, still, but maybe that way she would be able to make it through the afternoon without making an absolute fool of herself.

Of course she wasn't so lucky.

She could hear it in the way her footsteps sounded following the greeting. My lady. She wasn't even sure she had ever heard Howard call her that before. Somehow it felt even more hateful than the distant "Winter", although it did hold potential for something more... caring? No. No. No. She couldn't let her mind go there. Barely had time to, anyway, because despite the pace in which she had walked away, it didn't take long before Vivienne's voice sounded in her ear, a velvety tune that made all hairs on her body stand on end.

Was she aware? Obviously she had noticed her quiet demeanour and she was certain that her hat hadn't been able to hide her blush. But would she have put two and two together? Was she here to taunt her? To tell her that she knew? Would she hold it over her head, threaten to tell anyone? She couldn't ask her, because if she didn't know she would be incriminating herself. So she supposed the only option she had was trying to act as normally as possible, trying to act as if not everything inside her was screaming to be close to her.

She shouldn't be talking to her, then, but that would only make it all the more obvious. "Why are you here?" she therefore asked, her voice low and breathy as she tried to keep it steady for those four little words, her gaze straight ahead as she couldn't bare the thought of looking into her hate-filled eyes again.

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She could feel her gaze on her. That icy, derogatory stare of hers. What did she see? The vain, empty-headed heiress? Whose freckles stood out like a sore, along with the poor choice of garments that did all but slim her down? For the first time in her life, she felt extremely uncomfortable with the choices she had made that morning. She wished she could just disappear, blend into the background like some of the meeker girls. Leave quietly without anyone noticing as soon as she took sight of the dark-haired siren that stood next to her.

Her voice sounded, velvety and composed. It made each and every hair on her body stand up straight, like a baby duck that shielded itself from the cold. She had no idea of the power she held over her right now. Alison wasn't even sure what it was exactly that she was feeling. She just wanted, desperately, for her to see her. Appreciate her. Like her, even. She wanted her to be happy to see her. To smile along with everyone else as she entered a room. She wanted her to laugh with her, not at her. Although the latter would also be fine if it meant hearing her laugh. She didn't think she had ever heard that sound before, but she imagined it to be as elegant as the girl herself, like silver clocks softly tinkling together --

But that tone. That mocking, vile, hateful tone. It awakened something other in Alison and had done so for some time. An urge to retort. To bite. A few days ago, she would have told the dark-haired girl that she was free to leave if she so desired. That it would make the afternoon more pleasant for all involved. She was actually ready to do so, be it by way of some sort of muscle memory, had already opened her mouth even.

I seem to recall that last time you were quite content to be next to me.

Too stunned to speak, she closed her mouth. A chill manoeuvred its way over her whole body as the reality of those words sunk in. Despite the strangeness of that afternoon, she remembered every second of it. She could recall the exact moment when it happened. She knew that she hadn't said anything that could give off the idea that she'd enjoyed her company. What she also knew was that, for all of her life, Alison's body language could be read like a book.

She knew.

Her green eyes shot from left to right as she tried to find an explanation in the other's grey gaze. There was none. Nothing but the cold storm of haze that was always there, with just that little bit of fire that she got when she thought she had the upper hand. Nothing but the same of what it always was. She had realised, but the realisation did her nothing. How god-awfully embarrassing. Alison wanted to run home, to bury herself beneath the blankets of her bed. To cry. But she couldn't, because all of her friends were here and she had no logical explanation for doing anything of the sort.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

A feeble try to retain some control and she knew it. What choice did she have, though? She couldn't help but let out an agitated huff, before turning around and walking away towards the rest of the group. She just had to put her mind to something else.

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Sometimes her emotions overtook her. Like the first time she was told she was laughing too loudly and she could just feel the anxiety creeping up into her throat to shut her up. Or that time she dropped her doll from the carriage window and she felt so guilty about how dirty it had come back to her. In those instances she could not think straight, barely see clearly. It was like her whole mind and soul was clouded by a thunderstorm, electricity pulsing through her veins as she tried her best not to throw up. Sometimes when it happened she was alone and she could cry and hyperventilate until she felt better. Sometimes she was in public and she could do none of those things. And sometimes she was right in front of the one person she could show no weakness to.

She tried singing a song in her head as she walked away. Tried smiling along to the chatter of her friends. But she didn't go away and so neither did her anxiety. It only got worse when Poppy, ever the hostess, invited her to go first, to which she gladly accepted. Of course she did. She might act like she belonged in the shadows, but it was clear what a narcissist she was. It dripped like venom from her tongue as she spoke. It appeared as a grimace on her face as the ball flew right through the first mall. It shot right through the blonde girl's heart as she said her name, her first name, and for the first time in a while her green eyes shot up to look her in the eyes again, flaring as if a whole forest was set on fire.

"Of course." she answered, because there was no other answer possible. She had practiced this game millions of times before, knew exactly the curve the mall in her garden took and how sticky the soil would be depending on when it had last rained. But she was trembling still and her gaze was still cloudy and her limbs were still electrocuted and her shot was way, way too hard. It missed the mall, barely, and then continued on its merry way into the bushes and trees until it was out of sight. For a moment she watched it go, but she couldn't bear the thought of having to turn around after such an utter embarrassment. Not ever, but especially not now. In a split second decision, she did one of her more un-ladylike commands as her servants were already making their way over into the bushes: "No. I will get it." she said as she stomped away, dropping her mall on the ground behind her.

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If she were a man and if this were a different game, the shot might have been impressive in some sort of way. A show of strength, a sign of masculinity. But if she were a man maybe she wouldn't have become so flustered in the first place. Maybe she would've been more confident in the role that her own decisions played in her life and maybe she wouldn't be pushed down so easily by the words of one person. At the very least, she probably would have had more experience in the department that caused her to feel all these feelings, and that would have helped.

But she wasn't a man. She was the heiress, the one person who was supposed to be prim and proper and perfectly prepared to take over her father's role when the time came. The one with the sun hat and the white dress and the braided pigtails. She was never supposed to let merely this game get to her this much, let alone her, but there was no turning back now, not before she had calmed down a little. So she continued deeper into the woods, trying to focus on the ball as her thoughts were racing elsewhere.

That wretched voice.

She spun around only to see her standing there, leaning on her mallet in the most casual of ways. The long lines of her limbs and the sheer reflection of light on her skin made her look like a goddess carved out of marble. Alison could just feel her heartbeat pick up again and she turned back around to avert her gaze. Intently focused on the ball, of course. But she spoke again in that tingling voice and her stomach dropped -- or fluttered? -- at the question. The colour of her cheeks flaring up again meant that she was lucky that she had her back turned towards the tall brunette. "Why are you following me?" she asked, the agitation clear in her voice. She wanted to slap her but she couldn't do that because they were both ladies and a slap would certainly be visible on her perfectly porcelain cheek and so she just continued rummaging through the bushes. If she wanted to continue insulting her, she could follow along.

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As she continued rummaging through the bush, Vivienne did indeed follow along. And with that, her insults. Alison wasn't sure why she still spent any energy on coming up with insults. Her presence was enough to make her feel absolutely miserable, let alone her voice. She could be talking about something as mundane as taxes and it would still make all the hairs on her body stand right on end. Knowing the power she held over her just made it that much worse.

She thrusted on through the bushes, not as careful as she should have been but in too much a rush to care. The sooner she found that wretched ball, the sooner she could return to the group and stop listening to her verbal attacks. Or maybe she could come up with some excuse and just go home. She longed to do so, but it would surely be a temporary solution. She could not keep running away forever. For now, though, the lost ball gave her the opportunity to do exactly that at least for a little bit.

"I thought you did not care to hear me speak." she responded, the only thing coming out of her mouth during the girl's short rant. It did not seem to help, though, as she continued on with another question for her.

How did she sleep that night?

The truth was that she had slept. It took a while, but in the end she did. But that did not mean that the thoughts that had been plaguing her mind at that moment stopped. Instead, she dreamt. Vividly enough for her to remember every minute. It started out innocently enough, the sight of her pale grey eyes and the sound of her silver bell-like voice seemingly matching. It had seemed quite real; her words had been no kinder than they were now, nor had her gaze held any more warmth. But she came closer and closer, until she could feel her warm breath in her neck, followed by her lips. They had felt soft on her skin as they slowly traveled downwards, all the way until --

She had woken up at that point, flustered in a way that she had never felt before. It made her feel guilty in a way that she had also never felt before. Not only was it wrong, but shouldn't she feel that way about Faolan, and only him?

She had looked up in surprise as Vivienne suddenly stood before her, and so she had no time to avert her gaze before the plethora of emotions that was going through her mind was fully visible in it. "I--" She instinctively took a step back and in doing so her heel got caught on the root of a tree. Before she could fully register it, she was down on the ground, right in a muddy little area. Her white dress forever stained.

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