Eloise stared at the dried white petals in her hand. The first flower Miles had given her. It seemed like so long ago. Lillies for Lo, he had whispered. Nobody had given her flowers before; or a nickname, for that matter.
She smiled. Since then, their friendship had bloomed like the many flowers she had received. Some of those had wilted already. But most, she kept in a box, like potpourri. The most recent gift had been a pink peony for her 17th birthday.
The curtains were drawn almost completely. Through a crack, she observed the window opposite hers. Miles hadn’t come home yet.
Eloise walked to the mirror and stared at the girl in front of her, donning her long-sleeved pearl nightgown. Suddenly, she felt so small, so silly. Who was she kidding? She wanted to throw away all the petals, make them cascade down the window like raindrops, but decided against it. Miles would notice, and she could not hurt him.
Meet me in the tunnels tonight.
His words still rang in her ear. It was not their first rendezvous in the tunnels. They often met for Miles to read his poems to her, while she stared at the ground, stealing occasional glances towards him. Sometimes, she would bring verses of her own and read them to him.
But this time, it was different. Something about the way he said it made Eloise certain it wasn’t for mere poetry. What could it be? The thought both frightened and excited her beyond measure.
She peeked outside once more. This time, there was light in his bedroom, and he stood by the window, reading. For a moment, Eloise observed his delicate features, how his eyes shone amber against the candlelight. Eyes that looked up as she drew her curtains open. He smiled at her and stared back as she felt her blush creeping in. After a while, he cocked his head to the side inquisitively, and Eloise nodded. This was their signal to meet.
She headed out of her bedroom, skillfully avoiding her sleeping father, and tiptoed downstairs to the kitchen pantry. Eloise crouched, opened the lower cabinet door and crawled into the dark passageway. Nobody knew about this route to the tunnels, not even her father, and Eloise planned on keeping it a secret.
She walked further into the tunnels until she saw candlelight and amber eyes. She had been right; tonight was different. Before Miles opened his notebook and read his latest poem, he offered her a gift: a red rose.
