Monday, February 2, 2015

Run Of The Mill(ie)

[Because I feel the need to show proof I wrote something other than fan fiction or emails.]


Run Of The Mill(ie)

It was the dress that made him notice her for the first time, really notice her.
It wasn’t like Adam had never noticed Millie before.
She had been in the back of his mind since the first day she showed up, a broken, scared mess of a girl, too nervous and jumpy to even sit still for two minutes together.
He had seen her like he saw most all the other girls in the compound: Not worth his serious time.
Adam was the first to admit he was susceptible to a pretty girl. He had had more than his fair share of flings with a handful of girls in the compound, and he wasn’t ashamed to admit that he would probably have even more. There wasn’t a whole lot of good in their world these days, so in his mind, spending a few stolen moments or an occasional night with a girl he thought he could guess her name seemed all right.
And then Millie.
He  subconsciously left her alone for the first week or so she was at the compound, as if giving her a chance to settle in before figuring out if she was easy prey for him or not. He just figured she was typical, ready to be seduced, or at the very least susceptible if he turned on the charm and manliness.
He was almost pleasantly surprised to find that she was a lot stronger than that.
Adam wasn’t cocky, not if you got down to it. He had a reputation for being a bit sleazy, for a smile that could melt hearts in a matter of seconds, but he only turned it on when he knew a girl was interested. He had learned the look when a girl at the compound needed an escape, when he could get what he wanted. If he didn’t see the look, he backed away. Adam was smart enough to only go after the girls who wanted him back.
So when he didn’t see the look in Millie, when he saw instead a stable, tenacious woman who had toughened herself up and knew herself well enough to save herself, he didn’t give her a line or a sensual smile. He was proud of her, respect in his eyes when he saw her.
But the more he watched her, the more proud he became of her, the more he felt something inside for her. He didn’t know what to call it, so he tried to always just shrug it off when it hit him.
When he saw her in that dress, he couldn’t just shrug it off.
Adam couldn’t remember if he had ever seen her in a dress before, besides the tattered, mud-caked one she had on the day she arrived that they made her burn. He knew they had some dresses and skirts they offered girls when they first arrived, but Millie had asked for pants only.
He wasn’t sure if she had just asked for this dress for the festival or what the reason for the dress was, but he didn’t care.
She was gorgeous.
Adam couldn’t have told anyone later what colour the dress was or what the pattern was, or even how long or short it was on her frame. He wouldn’t have been able to say if her hair was down or up, if she had put extra care into her general appearance. Those details didn’t hit him.
What hit him was the way she wore the dress, the way she seemed to know that it made her beautiful, the way she wore that beauty with such grace and dignity. She knew in that moment that she was special, and that look was not lost on anyone, least of all Adam.
He couldn’t stop staring at her at the festival.
They hadn’t talked much before, really. After he knew she wouldn’t fall for him, he never went out of his way to be nice to her or try to hold conversations with her. She occasionally ended up in the same work group as he, and they worked well together and conversed that way, but that was it.
But at the festival, all he wanted to do was be near her and listen to her talk.
“Did you need to ask me something?”
Adam snapped to attention at her words. She was standing just a few feet away from him, a grin he didn’t recognize on her face. He blushed, realizing he hadn’t been very coy about following her around for the past half hour.
“Um.”
“It’s Adam, right?”
There was that grin again. Adam wondered if it was intended to calm him into forming a sentence. It was doing the exact opposite.
“I just, um. I like your dress.”
Adam closed his eyes as he heard the words come out of his mouth.
He had always prided himself on his smoothness with girls, the way he could get what he wanted with a flash of his smile and a few rehearsed words.
But then again, this wasn’t a girl. This was Millie.
“Thank you,” she said, still grinning, not seeming at all phased by his clumsiness. “I’ve never been to a festival before. It felt like it needed something special. I like your suspenders.”
Adam stretched himself up a little bit taller and smiled, feeling a little calmer. He could get used to compliments from her.
“I want to try this cider I’ve been hearing about for days,” Millie said, her eyes scanning for the table with the drink.
“Want to sit and have some together?”
Millie’s focus immediately went back to Adam at his words. She didn’t smile at first, just stared at him, then swallowed.
Adam knew this look. He knew she was trying to decide something important about him, and he knew better than to look away when she was deciding. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then met her gaze.
They stood just looking at each other for a few seconds, Adam willing himself to not look away, to somehow prove to her that he could be worth it if she gave him the chance, that he would try with all his might to not disappoint her.
A smile slowly began on her face, starting first in her eyes, and then spreading to her lips.
“I’d like that,” she said softly, still looking at him.
Adam breathed a sigh of relief. “I would too.”
They both turned to walk towards the table, not saying anything. Adam reached over and silently took her hand in his as they walked.
He let go when they got to the table, Millie gesturing with her head towards a spot on the ground in the shade before walking over and sitting down. Adam walked over a moment later, handing her a glass of cider and sitting down next to her, his back against the tree, his leg barely touching hers.
“Could you, um,” Millie started, then stopped. “Before. That was nice.”
Adam didn’t say a word as he reached over and took her hand in his again.


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