When all the children disappeared from sight, Zeven sauntered over to where Chris was sitting. Not waiting for him to reach her, she grabbed both of their cloaks and helped close the gap between them.
She passed him his cloak and he immediately put it on. Following suit she threw hers on as well. With a flourish of his hand he gestured for them to begin to walk.
"Shall we?"
"What did Anton say to you?"
"Anton told me I should marry you, before he did."
"Did he now?"
"He's got good taste. I'll give him that, but he's a few years too young to think he stands a chance against me."
Zeven made a show of flexing
He did not take her hand or attempt to grab her waist. His hands moved in his pockets, trying to fight the slight chill that had snuck up on them.
As Zeven and Chris walked back to the heart of town, she nudged him with her shoulder.
"I think the glasses are growing on me."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Too bad they don't cover more of your face."
"Want to know a secret?"
Zeven slipped the glasses off and placed them on Chris's face. Bruising a stray lock of hair out of the way. Immediately Chris squinted her eyes as they began to water.
"Oh my god, how do you even see out of these."
"I can't see without them."
"What?"
"It's the truth. If you move much further back than this," Zeven took her shoulders and positioned her, "I can't make heads or tails of you."
"That seems inconvenient."
"Not really, it gives me an excuse to be close to you." He moved closer, only a few inches between them. Wiggling his eyebrows up and down. Chris looked over the tops of the glasses to see Zeven's smirk.
"When I get this close, it is easy to see who you resemble."
"Who do I resemble?"
"Despite all your posturing and attempts to act like your father, when I look at you all I can see is your mother. This hair, this nose," Zeven touched each thing he named softly, "this face… you look just like her."
Chris felt something stirring inside her chest. A heavy feeling. Her whole life she had served as a constant reminder of her mother, and her death. Even when she became Christopher, her father refused to cut her hair, it was his favorite thing about her. In his eyes, she could see that he wished she had been the one to die instead, and sometimes Chris thought the same thing.
"But you don't have her eyes," Zeven's words pulled her out of her thoughts, "And they aren't your father's either. These eyes… they are uniquely yours."
His glasses sat low on her nose, as she looked up and over them. He was still close. Trying to see her clearly, he squinted ever so slightly. Seeing that he was still struggling to get a good look at her, Chris took a step closer. Her nose almost brushed his.
Zeven was looking down at her as she was looking up at him.
"Now all I can see is your eyes." He chuckled softly.
"Is that an issue?"
"Not for me."
Chris found her cheeks burning and with such small distance between them, there was no chance he didn't see it as well. His hand came up to caress her cheek, but she turned away before he got the chance.
She started walking. Back to the crowded streets and further away from him with each step.
It had to have been a festival in town, because people were still walking about in the setting sun. Lights had been strung up, imitating starts in the sky. Their warm light casted a gentle haze on the couples below.
On the cusp of reentering the festival, Zeven caught up with her. Grasping her hand firmly before she could move out of reach again.
As they overlooked the scene, Chris broke the silence.
"What is the reason you took me here today?"
"Hold on I have to think of which reason gets me closer to what I want." She elbowed him.
"I have an agenda to keep Chris," he said jokingly. "I wanted to impress you." he paused seeing if that answer was acceptable, when she rolled her eyes he continued, "To let you see my country."
"I think that's closer, but not quite there."
Chris stared at him, not breaking eye contact and waiting for his response.
"The real reason is that you looked like you needed a break."
"My, that is some agenda you've got there."
I want to make you want to stay, but he didn't say that. Instead he just shrugged his shoulders and raked his hand through his hair.
"You caught me."
Instead of letting go of his hand, Chris squeezed it tighter. Together they walked into the heart of the festival. Standing below the twinkling lights, Chris didn't find herself regretting her choices that lead her to this moment. The world moved in slow motion around them.
"Wait right here." Zeven freed his hand and ran off without so much as an explanation, leaving Chris in the dust. Once more, she was reminded of the kind of person Zevan is.
As she stood alone in the crowd of people, she felt a rustling against her skirt. It turned to a tugging sensation causing her to look down and try to determine its source.
There was a small boy, younger than Anton, who had her skirt wrapped up in his fist. With tears in his eyes he looked up at her, "Have you seen my mom?" His lip trembled as he said the word mom, tears threatening to spill over.
Feeling a sense of duty, she crouched down beside him, "Do you want me to help you find her?"
The boy nodded his head emphatically. Melting her heart as he wrapped his arms around her. Not knowing what else to do, she returned his hug, rubbing small circles on his back..
After a few seconds he took a step back and rubbed his eyes. Chris stood up and outstretched her hand to him. He latched onto it, holding it tightly. She smiled reassuringly at him, "Where did you see her last?"
He pointed off towards where she had just come from.
"Alright. Let's go."