Days passed, and Alaric found himself getting closer and closer to Eleanor in ways he hadn't admitted fully before. His emotions about her had changed from respect for her quick mind and strength to something far more profound. It was not just that she tested him or made him laugh – there was something in her that attracted him, a pull on him even when he wasn't there around her.
He had been trying to quell that feeling, convincing himself that this was not the time, that things were already complicated enough with Rosalind. Yet the longer he spent with Eleanor, the more he found himself unable to suppress the blossoming attraction. Every look, every smile, every silent moment between them meant something more, something significant, than before.
One afternoon, while helping out in the preparations for the village's harvest festival, Alaric found himself working side by side with Eleanor. They had been charged with the simple task of putting up decorations along the village square, but their task quickly turned into a series of hilarious mishaps.
Do you even know how to tie a knot?" Eleanor teased, grinning at how Alaric fumbled with the length of rope that was supposed to keep a banner aloft.
"I've tied enough knots," Alaric growled, though his face reddened with his anger. "Just. not this type.".
Eleanor laughed, a sound that sent a warmth through him that had nothing to do with the late afternoon sun. "Here, let me show you.".
She moved closer, her fingers tangling with his as she took the rope from him. Alaric jerked at the contact; the sudden closeness made his heart pound in his chest. He struggled to focus on what she was doing, but all he could think of was how close she was, how easy it would be to lose himself in the moment.
There, Eleanor said, tying the knot with a flourish. "Not so hard, is it?"
Alaric blinked, jolted out of his reverie. "Right. Easy."
Eleanor's teasing smile softened ever so slightly as her eyes met his. For one brief moment, the air between them seemed to shift, the playful banter giving way to something quieter, more intimate.
Alaric swallowed hard, his chest tightening with the weight of all the things he wasn't saying. He wanted to tell her how much she meant to him, how much he admired her strength and intelligence. How he felt a pull toward her that he hadn't felt with anyone else. But the words caught in his throat, tangled with his uncertainty.
She felt the change in him, too. Her eyes lingered over his face for a second longer before she cleared her throat and took a step back, and the spell between them broke.
"We should probably get moving," she said lightly, though her voice carried something unspoken underneath. "The festival's about to start."
Alaric nodded, glad for the distraction. "Right. Of course.".
They worked in relative silence after that, though Alaric couldn't shake the feeling that something had changed between them. The easy friendship they had shared was still there, but now it was charged with a tension that neither of them seemed willing to address.
---
As dusk falls, the sun sets with the village square filled with music and laughter, Alaric caught his gaze on Eleanor talking with a group of villagers who were all excited over the festival.
She was lovely-looking—beautiful in a manner that was careless and unconscious. Alaric had always known how striking Eleanor was, yet tonight something about her ached inside his chest perhaps it was the way soft lantern light softened her, or perhaps it was laughter that cut through the maelstrom of festival chaos and seemed to reach to him even from afar.
And it was not only her beauty; it was everything around her: the way she'd enter a room and leave one knowing she is someone you are proud of as well; the right word that comes out at just the right moment; how she looked past his protective mechanisms to help him come undone, as if letting down some part of himself didn't exist.
Alaric had lost himself in his thoughts and didn't see or hear Rosalind as she approached. Not until she stood right next to him, interrupting his reverie with her voice.
"Thinking of something?" she said with a light tone, yet piercing eyes.
Alaric blinked, feeling as though she came out of nowhere. "Oh, hey. Just… the festival," he finished in a rush.
Rosalind smiled slightly. Her expression was laced with sadness. "It is a nice night for it, isn't it?
Yeah," Alaric said, but his thoughts were still back with Eleanor.
Rosalind looked to where Eleanor was standing, her eyes lingered for a moment there before she turned back to Alaric. "You've been spending a lot of time with her lately."
Alaric's stomach twisted at her words, though he wasn't sure if it was guilt or something else entirely. "We've just been helping with the preparations.".
Rosalind nodded but her eyes appeared to know something. "It is all right, Alaric. You do not have to tell me what you are going through.".
"I know things have been strange between us," she said softly, her voice thick with emotion. "But I want you to know that I'm not angry with you. I don't want you to feel like you owe me anything."
Alaric felt a lump form in his throat, guilt washing over him. "Rosalind, I—
She smiled, but it wouldn't reach the eyes. "I do still care for you, Alaric. Yet I see things are beginning to shift for both of us.".
Her words suspended between them, heavy with all meaning unspoken between the unspoken words of everything said. Alaric could have told her how in his heart lay room indeed for their friendship but in reality, not so--his heart cried for that place.
In this minute, Rosiland gave him flicker of movement of one's face. "So enjoy the festival, Alaric," she went on, before stepping aside and taking back one of her steps back.
She disappears in a crowd, leaving Alaric standing alone, not under the weight of a decision but the burden of conflicting feelings. He's watching her disappear as pain settles in his chest because things between them could never be the same again - no matter how much he and she both wanted to.
As night began to deepen, Alaric could not help but feel his heart was standing at the crossroads. He felt that his love for Eleanor was growing stronger by each passing day, but at the same time, what he had shared with Rosalind weighed upon him. He did not know what the future held for him, but one thing was sure: his heart had made its choice, though he was not yet ready to admit it.