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With the dishes done and put back on their thin shelves, Ophelia invited John to sit on the couch while she fetched the measuring tape,

“And I expect you to have picked some worthy lines from Oberon by the time I find the blasted thing,” she called quickly making her way into the bedroom and throwing open the lid to the trunk once more. She dug through the layers of leftover things and clothes she hadn't looked at in far too long; such as a mask from a village ball, dried white roses carefully preserved in a small glass case,an old rag doll she could never end up parting herself from, even an old paperdoll book she still had sweet memories looking at from time to time. Once again she thought she might actually organize all of it one of these days.

She could hear John mumbling to himself in the other room and figured she might as well also search out her copy of “Midsummer’s” as well. Thankfully her old set of Shakespeare’s volumes were tucked away under and old skirt that needed repairing,something else she kept forgetting to do the woman thought ruefully, and she pulled out her dear copy of “Hamlet” as well. She stopped and sat down next to the trunk carefully picking open the cover to see her father’s elegant and overly curvy script staring back at her.

‘Doubt thou the stars are fire
Doubt thou the sun doth moon
Doubt truth to be a liar
But never doubt I love you

To my dearest of dearests’

She never forgot how her father's voice became a child’s tune as he spoke the words to her mother, Margarette. And later her father would get Lia, at the tender age of 5, to repeat lines from the play so she could act it out with him growing up, usually some of the sillier parts with Polonius prattling on or Hamlet in his feigned madness. By the time she was 9 he might ask what she was reading and she might respond with a mocking “Words, words, words” just knowing by quoting the work,she could bring a smile to his face in the way Margarette would play out a story with him. She didn’t often admit it to anyone, especially herself but she likely knew this play as well as she knew the good lord’s book.

But notwithstanding Lia never quite understood her father’s love for this work of all the possible stories to choose from. She often felt it was because he compared his own father to Claudius and indeed Lia never did see much of her grandfather.Yet again perhaps he simply enjoyed the absurdity of tragedy and madness being silly or outright hilarious at times. To think she had been named after such a weepy and obedient character though. She always saw herself more as the headstrong Laertes or loyal and poetic Horatio, if she had to see herself only characters within that single play.

Her mother passed away when she was 10; Within a year Evelyn had come into her home. It was then she re-read it all feeling she knew more than many who had delved into the story. She felt herself Hamlet betrayed by her father bringing in the wicked woman and her even more gruesome children. She even remembered saying to the girls as they tried to tease her,‘I am but mad north-north-west, when the wind is southerly I know a hawk from a handsaw’ and thoroughly enjoyed the look of minor shock and confusion on their faces giving her enough time to escape at least one time.

The words in the book she would look at time and time again, keeping hope even as she was sent away. The bittersweet pangs of the past finally loosened their grip from her thoughts as Lia closed the cover once more and put both books on the floor before diving back into search for the intended object. When she finally found it she grabbed the books and went back into the main room to see her partner facing the fire saying,

“Do you amend it then; it lies in you
Why should Titania cross her Oberon?
I do but beg a little changeling boy,
To be my henchman” The woman butted in,

“Set your heart at rest, the fairy land buys not the child of me.” He turned towards her trying his damndest not to look startled by her appearance surely fairy-like in its suddenness. Once collected he responded,

“Ill met by moonlight,Proud Titania,” which made Lia giggle. The man continued as she placed the books and tape down on the nearby table, “I was beginning to think a boogie had trapped you inside your trunk.”

“Only one of memory,” said the woman quickly grabbing and holding up the copy of ‘hamlet,’ “my mother’s copy of the play as given to me in my youth. I don’t often look at it.” The man halted at the mention of her mother, as she rarely talked about the woman. But she smiled brightly and put the book down, reassuring him of her mental well being.

“Perhaps let's stave off a bit longer from such sad works,” he started,perking back up, “I expect a good Puck from you my lady.” The woman next picked up the copy of 'Midsummer’s’ and flipped it open for a moment enjoying the scent it gave off.

“I’ll have the words before me at least to make a slightly easier match for your skills at the least, but only once my work is finished,” the woman said closing the book again with a snap and handing it to John. She picked up the measuring tape and thought for a moment before asking, “ Speaking of memory, may I use your journal to jot down the numbers? I can copy them into my own later.” John was already flipping through parts of the play and nodded in response.

The woman made her way across the tiny room to grab her partner’s journal and pencil,quickly opening it up to a fresh page as she returned back to the fireplace. She wrote down various things that would likely need measuring for a shirt, waistcoat, trousers and the like such as arms, shoulders, back, chest...hips and legs. She felt a bit fuzzy for a moment as the thought of where she would have to touch to do this. She felt so silly after practically hanging off the man like needy cat to its owner but still. It had never meant anything before, such as remeasuring Aron when he claimed he would need his clothes adjusted because of supposed ‘dramatic weight gain in the pubs’ or some such nonsense. But Aron was just her brother. She shook her head telling herself this was nothing more than practical work and snapped herself for such feminine antics of the mind making her into a coward.

Finishing up the notes the woman said,

“I`ll start with a measurement for a hat then. You never know, but there may be one that suits you.” Even with starting doubts about it, Lia figured a bowler or a gambler might suit him. She softly brushed his hair back behind his ears. He seemed to shiver in response, having been to absorbed in looking for the next line to expect her touch. He seemed to unconsciously lean his head into her hand repeating `You never know` in a dreamy voice. She did her best not to giggle as he quickly straightened himself coming to his senses. He cleared his throat and seemed to have picked his next passage to read,

“Yet mark’d I where the bolt of cupid fell. It fell upon a little western flower, before milk-white, now purple with love’s wound.” Lia finished and wrote down the sum before quickly fussing with John’s hair as she had mussed it up good enough. He stopped reading for a second and Lia noticed he was grinning at her, she guessed for her overly concentrated expression. She stuck her tongue out at him before going back to a professional tint and saying,

“Let`s go with your arms next. I will take the left then.” The woman adjusted her position to his left side while John started the next line, quietly complying,

“...and maidens call it love in-idleness. Fetch me that flow`r; the herb I showed thee once.” Lia felt she was distracting him as she took a few measures of his hand for he stopped again for a point in time. He looked thoughtfully at her fingers tracing over his hands and wrists and only once she was finished did he seem able to continue.

“ The Juice of it on sleeping eyelids laid will make man or woman madly dote upon the next line creature that it sees.” As he spoke the woman had gently motioned for his arm to straighten so she could get the next number. Then she put down the tape and picked up her pencil to jot down a sketch to accompany her notes and dimensions.

“Fetch me this herb, and be thou here again,Ere the leviathan can swim a league,” as he finished the line, Lia quickly put down the notebook and made a lap skipping around the man saying,

“I’ll put a girdle ‘round the earth in forty minutes” And John spun around watching her before responding in jest,

“ I can’t be both the earth and Oberon.”

“Perhaps Oberon is the earth to Puck. He is rather dedicated for a hobgoblin.” she quickly shot back with a snicker and did a final lap before sitting down for a moment, John joining her. He looked also fairly dizzy and shook his head rubbing his temple with both hands for a moment. Ophelia picked up the tape once more,

“I need to get your back and shoulders next so if you could stand for me.” John took a firm grip of the back of the couch as he stood, apparently still not totally over spinning around as he did. He picked up the book but asked,

“Is that the only line of puck I will get out of you then?”

“Of course not,” Lia quickly responded as if awestruck at such a statement.She started laying the tape over his back and spoke,

“And as I am an honest puck, if we have unlearned luck, now to scape the serpent’s tongue, we will make amends ere long; else the puck a liar call…” she paused skipping a bit of the speech, “Give me your hands, if we be friends, and Robin shall restore amends.” and she went around to face her friend once more and put her hands out, facing up and the man placed his hands on hers with a wily grin.

“I’m glad amends were made then,” she said going back to her work. She had already forgotten the measurement and went to retake it, running her hands across John’s shoulders slowly enjoying the feel of his shirt rippling under her touch. The man seemed silenced by her actions but was looking through the play again for more lines. She finished his back and shoulders listening to the comforting sound of pages turning and took down the next totals. She realised she still needed his chest and waist measurements next and now felt bubbly at the prospect. There was no way to do it that wouldn't fluster the poor man, and she was enjoying herself more than anticipated. She wondered if he would always react so shyly to her touch.

“Chest and waist are up, If you could hold out your arms for me then.” She asked watching his pale cheeks pinken slightly. As she pulled the tape around his back, Lia let herself lean fully against the man for a moment, bringing the object back around to meet itself and could feel the rapid beating of his heart. She looked up to see his eyes glistening like a cat on hunt and she truly felt akin to her mousy nickname, but only for a moment.

But not only that, his arms had moved loosely around her, his hands landing on her shoulders limply gripping her. She felt his fingers curling and straightening with confusion at what to do, but more often went towards clutching her tighter. And Ophelia could feel his need to do so, now more than ever before. His presence shifted the air to desire, his feelings falling over her like petals from a spring tree. And the woman could easily imagine them standing in a field of yellow wind-blown poppies.

But the moment came to a close and John seemed to snap out of it and his eyes softened reminding her more of welsh poppies after a light shower, but gleaming with so much emotion. And just as quickly as the feeling had come over them, it retracted. The petals lay still on the ground, the man’s fingers slipping back to his sides lifelessly as if they were torn branches from a storm. The field disappeared around them back into the apartment, and Lia came back to her senses noticing the tape had slipped totally from one of her hands and barely held in the other. Yet, what an invigorating experience.She so wanted to live in that flower field with John, tumbling in the beauty of it all with their bodies never leaving each other. And even after the thought had faded, Lia forgot to scold herself for such thoughts.

The woman dipped down and grabbed the tape once more. She looked up again to see a guilt in the man’s eyes and moved to grab the tape around him with one hand and started rubbing his arm comfortingly. Then she moved in and kissed a scar along his collarbone and lay her head there for a moment, her hand continuing its soothing motion. She took in the sound of his nervous heartbeat slowing into a more calm state. She let her hand languidly move to further encourage John. Decidedly, she would have to pay more attention to her partner’s past wounds as feeling him so close and at peace near her felt like coming home.

The man didn’t move to repress his shiver and kissed her head, his arms revitalizing and laying over her shoulders for a moment till Lia felt he was properly blooming once more.She even felt his fingers which had lingered over her curls start to curl around them timidly but in a relaxed manner. Feeling such a sensation made Lia break into a smile. It was then that she allowed herself to break the silence,

“We're you able to find another part to your liking?” She asked hoping to break the poor fellow from his stunned state. His head snapped down to look at her as she noted the number needed.

“I-I think so,” he said a bit shakily. Lia looked down to check the measurement of his waist, using her fingers as a guide to check. Another quiver was felt and the woman couldn't stop smiling.

“ You are enjoying this then?” John said with a nervous smile.

“Should I not be?” She fluttered her eyelashes at him as innocently as she could muster glad to ignore her own inner flutterings. She quickly looked at the needed sum and moved back to jot down the measurements once more. As she retracted he seemed to breathe fully once again.

“ Just hips and legs left. Think you can read or would you like a moment?” She said teasing him a bit. He seemed to take it as a challenge and flipped open the book to the page he had marked with his finger.

“ Let it be done, m’lady.” She took up the tape once more and ducked down, kneeling down a bit as the tape settled on his hips. She slowly adjusted it hearing a quick inhale of breath before he dove into his lines.

“Welcome, good Robin. Seest thou this sight? Her dotage now I do begin to pity. For meeting fer of later behind the wood, seeking sweet favors for this hateful fool, I did upbraid her, and fall out with her.” The woman had to move in close to see where the numbers met and kept her focus on the man’s words to help concentrate and quietly pulled the tape back off.She almost felt disappointed he managed to continue without stopping this time, but yet again she felt her own pulse becoming more rapid as she moved further down his body. So it seemed right to stand back, slowly rewinding the tape just to enjoy listening for a moment.

“For she his hairy temples then had rounded With coronet of fresh and fragrant flowers; And that same dew which sometime on the buds, Was wont to swell like round and orient pearls, Stood now within the pretty flouriet’s eyes,” This time she slowly took her time in writing down the next figure. She could hear pride swell a bit in his voice as he finished the last line without a flutter of hesitation, winning her perceived challenge. She smiled in congratulations, enjoying the time she had to fully listen to him read without distraction. Of course, he read beautifully and the woman felt as if she were wrapped in a warm velvet blanket that she ached to not leave. She supposed his voice, when reading any kind of work,always had such an effect on her. Yet sadly for now she had to not let the entrancement overtake her,lest she lose her ability to finish her work.

Ophelia put down the pencil once more, and finally moved on to getting the length of the outside seam. She look the length from his hips to ankles carefully as the man continued confidently now, “Like tears that did their own disgrace bewail. When I had at my pleasure taunted her, And she in mild terms begg’d my patience, I then did ask of her, her changeling child,” as she moved along the length of his legs, she could feel the solidness of his muscles taut as he stood, even as she moved over them with a glancing touch. A few more prominent uplifts of skin could be felt, much like over the rest of his body. She wondered if they were the cause of phantom pains, the hidden scars. She had to recheck her measurement as she had forgotten it in her moment of thought and wrote down the number before lapsing back into her mind. She wondered about the story he had once told her about how he received such scars, a workplace accident at a factory.

Yet she had seen what those wounds looked like, and those kinds of scars and John would have needed a few years of deadly accidents to account for his marking. Lia was sure he would one day tell her a different tale in his own time. They were only at the beginning of their journey as it were. Meanwhile she noticed he had stopped reading, and the woman looked up to see his hands loosely gripping the book as he stared down at her curiously. She gave a small guilty smile.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he asked closing the slim volume and sitting down on the couch. The woman joined him closing the journal as well.

“No need to pay me. I will always give them freely to you if you ask. I guess I was wondering,do they,” she paused mirroring the scars along his neck and face on herself, “I don’t wish to pry to much, but I can’t help but wonder if those...still hurt ever? I wonder if maybe there was something I could do to help if so. It’s a silly question I know, but I would hate to know you suffer any kind of pain...especially if I could prevent it.” She looked down into her lap feeling ridiculous as she felt her darling’s hand touching her face and lifting it once more. He seemed genuinely happy, his hand sliding down to meet hers,

“It’s very considerate. And yes, sometimes, in some places… but it's not always a physical pain I suppose. Yet again, I wonder what the difference is, the pain of the flesh and the pain of memory.”

“One heals faster than the other,”The woman started thoughtfully, her mind turning to that which lived within her and had made her do such terrible things in the name of her Lord above. The pain of those sins always weighed so heavily on her till she had come into the Jenkin’s care. And with John, from the first correspondence, the shackles of the past seemed nothing but a far gone nightmare. She shook off the thought to continue, “Naturally physical pain heals with time and proper care. It is always easier to restore what one cannot see. But memory is no different.So many think simply because one cannot see a gaping wound of the heart that it isn’t a tangible thing.It too must be tended to with just as much care.” The man nodded in agreement before responding,

“But like many wounds are not properly treated, such things can fester and leave such defects on the soul can they not?”

“Yes, but they can also be healed by a kind hand. And though wounds, both of the mind and body make us remember bitter times in our life,” the woman paused one hand drifting to the discolored patch over the bridge of her nose and feeling more aware of such places on her body once more,” they can also remind us to have hope and keep faith in the future. Both are lit paths laid out for us in darkness if only we choose to follow them.”

John had a look of guilt wash over him, making Lia wonder what other things he had yet to tell her. She let her hands grip his once more, pulling them to her heart.She gazed at him feeling passion well up within her and said,

“Such memories, scars, whatever they may be are always kept with us for a reason, though Lord above only knows why. But we must remember the past to find a better path. And most importantly the good, kind, wonderful things remind us that there is always hope...and love.” The man drew his lips together tightly, and let out a murmur of starting tears. But he spoke after a while with a clear voice,

“You have given me the best salve there is then. But is isn’t that I neglect the pain ,it sometimes seems to blister at night, demanding I treat it when I am powerless to do so,” the man stared at their entwined hands, his voice growing soft and distant.

“Well I shall stand guard at the gate then, and treat them if needed as they come to the door,” Ophelia stated with certainty and an assured nod. She then took their entwined hands and raised them to her lips before laying their cool touch to her cheek and holding them there for a juncture in time. The silliness of her words and her romantic actions seemed to break the man's darker thoughts as it had helped many children with nightmares she had helped in the past. He gave a quick grip of her hand before releasing it,

“I will be counting on you then,” he picked the book back up….”and I have lost my place it seems.” He spoke with a slow smile at the least. The woman mirrored him and just to make sure he was truly feeling better she moved it and stroked along his cheek, playing with his hair a bit, which made him laugh. With that she felt confident she could go back to work, trying to remember what she had left to do once more. Oh yes, inside seam. As if she wasn’t distracted enough. She kneeled back down on the floor, adjusting her skirts out of the way before asking,

“If you wouldn’t mind, could you just need to move your legs to about shoulder length for me” John looked down at her with surprise at her request, a blush on his cheek and surely he could see hers as well. She nodded him to go on suppressing a giggle as he seemed to have lost his place in the book once more and took a stroke to re-find it, almost fumbling a bit but did as requested. She sat back and make a motion of waiting patiently, figuring it would only be polite to let him try to get through the next line. He sighed and began again,

“...her changeling child; Which straight she gave me, and her fairy sent To bear him to my bower in fairy land. And now I have the boy, I will undo This hateful imperfection of her eyes.” The woman had placed her fingers near where she could measure the inside seam of the pants and could feel warmth and had absolute concentration to make sure her hands grazed nothing, though part of her thoughts were wicked enough to tempt her. She finished though and with a sigh of relief she rewound the tape for the last time and took her last notes letting John continue in peace.

“...That he,awaking when the other do, May all Athens back again repair, And think no more of this night’s accidents, But as the fierce vexation of a dream.But first I will release the Fairy Queen.” With everything finished the woman closed the book and stood back watching with admiration as John took the last lines and looked at her as he spoke them,

“Be as thou wast wont to be; See as thou wast wont to see. Dian’s bud o’er Cupid’s flower. Hath such force and blessed power. Now, my Titania, wake you, my sweet queen.” The woman felt her lips pucker as she bit her bottom lip at the way he said ‘my sweet queen’ and went with it making a swooning motion against him.

“My oberon, what visions I have seen! Methought I was enamor’d of an ass.” And she spun and looked at the couch in apparent horror. John broke character exclaiming,

“And yet Oberon always seemed to be more an ass then bottom ever acted. Hardly kingly behavior.” Lia turned back to him.

“I always thought so as well. Bottom was always very kind to the fairies considering,” the woman said putting down her tape measure and grabbing the book to flip through for another good line. Keeping her eyes on the book and keeping her posture casual she asked,

“ Did you get to see any of Shakespeare's plays back when you were working with Vincent?”
Lia watched the man clutch the edges of the couch but took a breath and loosened his grip before responding,

“Early on I got to witness `The tempest`or should I say `a butchered hunk of it` as Vincent called it,”Relaxing back against the divan he revealed a smile of sentimentality, “ He would often join me in my room, well where I stayed in the theatre anyway. We would read lines together, often with drink. I often felt no more than a youth.” Lia watched John’s eyes look both at the fire and nothing, hands folding together in his lap. Daring to not break the flow of thoughts she merely sat down next to him and continued her search for lines.

After flipping through a few more pages she looked back to see his hands balling up together, fingers gripping tightly enough that they turned a slight reddish hue. The woman immediately put down the book and moved her hand over his, lightly brushing over his clenched fingers and wrist seeming to bring him back. His head scarcely turned, eyes still a bit glassy as he continued,

“There are things of which I many not speak; There are dreams that cannot die; There are thoughts that make the strong heart weak,” he mumbled fervently as his hands moved to grip hers, “And bring a pallor to the cheek, and a mist before the eye. And the words of that fatal song come over me like a chill,” The woman felt John`s thumb caressing her own, seeming to hold onto her like a strong mast in a terrible storm, “A boy's will is the wind's will, and the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.”

Even with the warmth of the room, the man shuddered and then fully turning his head to look at Lia he silently apologized. She smiled back encouragingly but a bit confused. Was that a poem as well? She didn’t recognize it. Seeing her puzzled expression the man explained though speaking as if he had come out of a trance

“ By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, an American you know. It’s called, `My lost Youth’. I found him when reading about Poe a while back...Very good piece anyway.” He turned to look back at his collection on the shelf his features twisting into question for a moment. “ But sadly I do not have any of his work. Perhaps your Mr. Jenkins has a collection on American poetry?”

It was Ophelia`s turn to think as she scanned her memories of working a few days before in the shop downstairs. A few titles came to mind, though they were shoved in the back corner on a low shelf. Ernest may have his love for all works, but anything outside of England was more of a stepchild in terms of the affection given. Sometimes his tastes were enough to make a stuffed bird laugh, that was for sure. But the old man was always good natured about it at the least.

“I believe he does. He can be a bit judgemental at times, though he would never admit it. Hates to say he is critical of anything to his customers lest they might judge it too harshly. Yet again I think there is no shame in having our opinions ,without shame, on such topics.” John looked at her a bit bewildered.

“On the contrary, if I may say so, I have yet to find such criticism easy to bestow,” His posture straightened as he moved his hands away from hers slightly, trying to find a way to explain himself, “ Poetry is ...glimpses into the soul. So as it is such a vulnerable show of one's self I don’t think it fair to be cruel.I think I explained it better a few weeks before everything has been a bit of a blur lately.” His face turned to a bashful smile as the woman recalled the conversation he was speaking of.

“I do recall, but I still think it a bit hard to believe. I mean, if one publishes their work like any other art form, they open themselves up to critical opinion….”

---===---

And once again the two became wrapped up in conversation as the fire burned slowly down and day became the embers of dusk. Lia had triumphed in her opinion on the state of criticism but as they had moved onto Marlowe and his works compared to Shakespeare John held the upper hand in his thoughts that they had merely collaborated versus Shakespeare outright stealing Marlowe’s work.

To spare herself from trying to climb out of the logistical hole she had made, the woman noted it was a good time to finally start making their way down to the rag-faire. And seeming settled in his win the man agreed and they both rose from the couch and prepared to meet the frigid air of the winter night.

By the door, Ophelia had finished lacing her shoes up as she noticed John openly grinning at her and looking like he had a thought stuck on the tip of his tongue.

“No need to get poked up if you got to say something. Out with it then,” she sputtered before standing up and moving to put on her coat. The man had already finished and leaned back against the wall and decidedly not looking at her said,

“ please try not to fall this time.” In which Lia found it prudent to lean herself in his direction and fall towards him, knowing he would catch her. She stuck her tongue out at him and immediately responded,

“Like this, you mean?”

“To think... I ever thought you were a thoroughly mature. Yes, like this.” He quickly leveled her but then brought her closer to him, wrapping his arms around her.

“I don’t know what I would do if you got hurt,” he said before reluctantly letting her go.

Lia felt a little disconcerted by his sobering response, but enjoyed the care he took in his thoughts for her. She sighed at his worry but still looked at him gratefully, letting her eyes meet his while her hands snaked around his neck,

“You would carry me all the way home of course, right?” She asked.

“If you wish me to carry you, my lady, it would be my honor,” John responded holding the woman a bit tighter as he lifted her from the ground for a moment. Lia gripped tighter, a gasp of breath escaping her at the unexpected flight from the ground but smiled wondering if she should ask him to spin her around. Indeed, she might have been a flower plucked from the warm earth for the ease of which she was lifted.

Once settled back on the ground, the woman immediately laid a kiss of John’s cheek, her fingers smoothing out his coat as she pulled them back. She certainly wished she could have stayed there in his embrace a bit longer, but there were errands to be done. Once a step away she dropped into a more formal curtsey to say,

“Thank you kind sir, I do pray I won’t befall an unfortunate situation to heed such assistance...and I must admit I hardly found it disagreeable to be a few centimeters taller,” she ended jokingly, quickly checking her small handbag for everything she would need that night. And with that she opened the door and motioned for John to head out before her. She followed quickly feeling the chill in the hallway and immediately missing the warmth inside as she locked the door.

The woman almost unconsciously set her scarf over her face to cover the whitened patch of skin over the bridge of her nose with an ease of many years practice. She watched John similarly pull his hair down around his face and flip the collar of his coat up ,as she had seen him do so many times before and she immediately felt a pang of guilt at her own actions. She slipped her own scarf down around her neck and silently moved her loved one`s hands away from the collar and smoothed it down. Then she spoke from one of the poems that had been stuck in her head for the last few days,

“I never saw so sweet a face, as that I stood before,
my heart has left its dwelling place, and can return no more.” John’s eyes glimmered in recognition,

“And once more, my namesake betrays me it seems,” he started, now readjusting his hair back behind his ear and saying more of the poem in a melodic voice,

“I ne’er was struck before that hour
With love so sudden and so sweet,
Her face it bloomed like a flower,
And stole my heart complete.”

Lia was silenced at hearing such words in her direction, and felt herself blushing fiercely, wanting to pull the scarf back up from embarrassment but resisted. John looked both satisfied yet loving at her reaction making her sputter out putting a hand on the nearby railing,

“You do make my heart flutter so,”

“It is only fair then, since you so often do the same to me. I could not say I regret it, but as long as it is only you. I am not sure my poor heart could take it,”he responded quickly enjoying the reaction he had caused for sure, “Yet again, I would not want anyone else but you making me feel this way,” he continued with a change to a loving expression as he moved towards her offering his arm. She took it gladly, glad for the support and admitting to herself that she certainly had teased him overmuch this morning for sure, so it was as he said. She laced her arm through his saying,

“ I feel very much the same. You are a taken man now,after all,” as she led them towards the stairwell. She felt giddy being able to say such a thing as they made their way downstairs the light of the fading sunset filtered in through the small windows of the narrow corridor and stairwell blinding out the dim lamps which Mrs. Jenkins had already lit for the night.

For all the words and actions spoken that day in the comfort of the small apartment, it seemed to slowly dim as they descended back into the outside world. But every butterfly must emerge from its cocoon and they were certainly ready for flight in the world that suddenly seemed so changed now that they knew they had each other. Her mind wondered, as the cold seemed to seep into her, if John could ever need a scarf how cold it was outside. Yet again, if she were to perhaps make him one, he would wear it nonetheless. It would certainly a more personal gift than a book,though she doubted he would ever turn one down.

And better yet it would be a great excuse to meet up with her closest friend, Maddy to assist her in possibly doing so in the near future. She had always desired to better her skills since her friend far exceeded her abilities. And of course, they could have a chance to catch up on some light gossip. Maddy had been utterly thrilled to hear about John visiting her when they last spoke and would never forgive Lia if she took too long to get back to her with today's happenings.

But for now she leaned close against John as they stopped briefly on a landing. She peered out the quickly fogging window panes to see through the maze of buildings a slice of the sea beyond.

“Did I ever tell you how much I love sunsets?” Ophelia found herself saying wistfully before starting to move and John following.

“More times than I can count... but none possessing your allure” he said the second bit to himself and based on how he too was looking out the window. She was honored to hear such a thing but didn’t wish to embarrass him as she often knew the feeling. Instead she asked,

“So then I assume the sea reminds you of the cliffs near the village then too?” The woman laughed,

“You certainly got me there. Suddenly you can read my thoughts then?” She asked jovially. She was glad to note, he was able to keep a calm demeanor as they made their way down the stairwell. He so often seemed to simply shrink into himself when going to any public area.

“I wish. You talk so often of that place I can see it as if I was actually there.” Lia felt a blush rise rise in her cheeks once more. They reached the bottom of the stairs and John went to open the door for her. Before she went through it she asked,

“ Am I really that bad?” John kept his voice in a quieter tone but still a bit playful as he closed the door behind them. Lia gripped his arm a bit tighter with her own,

“How could you say such a thing? It is a gift for sure, if anything.” He took a breath, nodding as if to acknowledging the self-deprecating statement for what what it. He moved on, putting it behind him,

“You'll have to take me there one day. You said before there's a train to a nearby town to the village?” Lia leaned in a bit closer to the man’s side enjoying the protection against the winter wind and led the way towards the Thames River.

“After Folkestone it's not terribly far. Just two hours by carriage. But once there you always feel like you've traveled back in time and place where the world is a more innocent state… I also have more then enough friends there who could lend us a more private place to stay.”

As they went towards the correct road, starting to be surrounded by the flow of people once more the woman felt John's arm’s tense, she heard the soft but audible gulp. She took her free hand rubbing it against his arm, leaning her head against it as well understanding his concern. Yet she felt herself laugh just as bit in happiness that they would walk as any other couple along the thames that evening. After a few minutes they reached the sidewalks on the river`s edge and all had dimmed to a calm twilight before John finally responded,

“I should like to go then, one day. Never been on a train before either...Seems terribly public you know?"

“I could arrange a private carriage for us on it. Aron and I have done so a few times over the years when we go back to visit. He still has a lot of friends back in Sandgate as it is.”

“ You said he worked on a harbor there as well?”

“And a few other odd jobs in the village as well. We always try to go back for the festival every summer at least. The sisters always need help with plans.”

“Sounds like a wonderful time,” the man said distantly, it seems envisioning the event. Lia herself could see it, and felt excitement slowly gaining at the realistic prospect of actually going.

“You'll love it when we go one of these years.” The man scoffed a bit in disbelief.

“I`m glad in your confidence of the future.” The woman turned and pressed a kiss against his shoulder, but then stopped and turned to face him. She used her free hand to place a hand to his scarred
cheek, making sure he was looking at her instead of eyes darting around to all the people.

“Perhaps I’m just a psychic then. And I can see how much romantic it will be having you dance with me under the moonlight when we go.” The man smiled down at her, expression relaxing,

“From your spying, my little mouse, I’m sure you saw I can hardly dance.”

“You only tempt me to make you practice with me then like you did once with Miss Ives.” The two kept up the banter as they started passing through a nicer area and the people around them shifted from sailors and other workers heading home to rich couples strolling along the plazas and department stores, their glittering electric lights starting to make the whole area feel like a dreamed day instead of the definite night. Ophelia felt herself slow , and sat on a rock wall by the river’s edge , in between the lights to be just in shadow. John stood nervously shifting beside her but tried to maintain calm for her sake. He simply asked,

“Are your legs tired?”

“Just drinking in the atmosphere. Join me. They aren’t going to be looking at us,” she said reaching out and pulling him to sit beside her. He motioned to pull his collar up but as he moved his arm to do so, the woman gently stopped him, pulling his hands into hers. He looked around nervously but within a few moments he seemed to relax taking in the truth of her motioning. She noticed only a few curious glances in their direction but never for long. John leaned a bit back on her and started speaking quietly,

“Science! true daughter of Old Time thou art!
Who alterest all things with thy peering eyes.
Why preyest thou thus upon the poet’s heart,
Vulture, whose wings are dull realities?
How should he love thee? or how deem thee wise,
Who wouldst not leave him in his wandering
To seek for treasure in the jewelled skies,
Albeit he soared with an undaunted wing?
Hast thou not dragged Diana from her car,
And driven the Hamadryad from the wood
To seek a shelter in some happier star?
Hast thou not torn the Naiad from her flood,
The Elfin from the green grass, and from me
The summer dream beneath the tamarind tree?” Lia took in his soft spoken words.

“Poe, then?” He nodded.

“Such overexposure to light or Forbidden knowledge, to me ,does nobody any favors; It hides the mystery of the stars does it not?”Lia looked up and indeed she could not see beyond the glare of the lights nearby. But she felt a stitch of pain at such a revelation.

“It isn’t all bad you know. A beacon calls the lost from the sea. A lamp can light the midnight hour of creativity better than a single candle, does it not? It must all be slowly taken in stride, to be able to bathe in the warmth of light without forgetting what the constellations look like.” John certainly took on an amused expression at her counter to him.

“Are you my beacon then, leading me gently to shore?”

“On a stormy night when the stars can’t guide you I would be there waiting to bring you to my shore... where my arms like paths would lead you home... to where my heart lies forever waiting for your return.” she said taking time to pick out the right words,”if that’s what you mean?,” she said back with the sweetest grin she could muster. But the man’s breath hitched as he looked at her with a deep longing and then moved to pull her close and kiss her head and they stayed like that for a moment. Lia moved her arms around him, anyone watching be damned. When he released her John seemed totally at ease. They both got off the the rock wall silently, contently and started walking again as both noticed the attention being sent in their direction. As they reached the high beam of the next lamp John suddenly tensed up again, his head starkly turned to look across the street and to the shops beyond.

Lia peered around him but only saw a particular couple, rich and snobby as any of the others, stopped and watching it felt like. It felt piercing and John acted as an animal in the crosshairs of a hunter. Then moved swiftly with Lia barely having time to process what just happened , keeping her firm grip on him as John moved with that piercing gaze at his back, it felt like. But such a predatory gaze hadn’t escaped Ophelia either. Never had she felt anything quite like it and was eager to ask,

“ Do you know them?” her voice soft and slightly out of breath, as they had escaped the last of electric lights. But he said nothing at first and the woman at least waited till there was an even darker area before stepping in front of her partner making him stop his eyes slowly focusing in on her. He still anxiously shifted about foot to foot seeming to want to get as far from the perceived threat as possible. Had one of those people done something to him? LIa remembered the woman more, this sense of calling from afar.That inner part of her smelling blood knowing it's source. She felt a shiver run through her as John finally spoke,

“It’s naught but a nightmare and it’s over.” He seemed to note to himself as much as he did to her. Lia stroked his cheek comfortingly finding it strange to see such an immediate change but dare not ask any further. Not now.

Description
With the dishes done and put back on their thin shelves, Ophelia invited John to sit on the couch while she fetched the measuring tape,

“And I expect you to have picked some worthy lines from Oberon by the time I find the blasted thing,” she called quickly making her way into the bedroom and throwing open the lid to the trunk once more. She dug through the layers of leftover things and clothes she hadn't looked at in far too long; such as a mask from a village ball, dried white roses carefully preserved in a small glass case,an old rag doll she could never end up parting herself from, even an old paperdoll book she still had sweet memories looking at from time to time. Once again she thought she might actually organize all of it one of these days.

She could hear John mumbling to himself in the other room and figured she might as well also search out her copy of “Midsummer’s” as well. Thankfully her old set of Shakespeare’s volumes were tucked away under and old skirt that needed repairing,something else she kept forgetting to do the woman thought ruefully, and she pulled out her dear copy of “Hamlet” as well. She stopped and sat down next to the trunk carefully picking open the cover to see her father’s elegant and overly curvy script staring back at her.

‘Doubt thou the stars are fire
Doubt thou the sun doth moon
Doubt truth to be a liar
But never doubt I love you

To my dearest of dearests’

She never forgot how her father's voice became a child’s tune as he spoke the words to her mother, Margarette. And later her father would get Lia, at the tender age of 5, to repeat lines from the play so she could act it out with him growing up, usually some of the sillier parts with Polonius prattling on or Hamlet in his feigned madness. By the time she was 9 he might ask what she was reading and she might respond with a mocking “Words, words, words” just knowing by quoting the work,she could bring a smile to his face in the way Margarette would play out a story with him. She didn’t often admit it to anyone, especially herself but she likely knew this play as well as she knew the good lord’s book.

But notwithstanding Lia never quite understood her father’s love for this work of all the possible stories to choose from. She often felt it was because he compared his own father to Claudius and indeed Lia never did see much of her grandfather.Yet again perhaps he simply enjoyed the absurdity of tragedy and madness being silly or outright hilarious at times. To think she had been named after such a weepy and obedient character though. She always saw herself more as the headstrong Laertes or loyal and poetic Horatio, if she had to see herself only characters within that single play.

Her mother passed away when she was 10; Within a year Evelyn had come into her home. It was then she re-read it all feeling she knew more than many who had delved into the story. She felt herself Hamlet betrayed by her father bringing in the wicked woman and her even more gruesome children. She even remembered saying to the girls as they tried to tease her,‘I am but mad north-north-west, when the wind is southerly I know a hawk from a handsaw’ and thoroughly enjoyed the look of minor shock and confusion on their faces giving her enough time to escape at least one time.

The words in the book she would look at time and time again, keeping hope even as she was sent away. The bittersweet pangs of the past finally loosened their grip from her thoughts as Lia closed the cover once more and put both books on the floor before diving back into search for the intended object. When she finally found it she grabbed the books and went back into the main room to see her partner facing the fire saying,

“Do you amend it then; it lies in you
Why should Titania cross her Oberon?
I do but beg a little changeling boy,
To be my henchman” The woman butted in,

“Set your heart at rest, the fairy land buys not the child of me.” He turned towards her trying his damndest not to look startled by her appearance surely fairy-like in its suddenness. Once collected he responded,

“Ill met by moonlight,Proud Titania,” which made Lia giggle. The man continued as she placed the books and tape down on the nearby table, “I was beginning to think a boogie had trapped you inside your trunk.”

“Only one of memory,” said the woman quickly grabbing and holding up the copy of ‘hamlet,’ “my mother’s copy of the play as given to me in my youth. I don’t often look at it.” The man halted at the mention of her mother, as she rarely talked about the woman. But she smiled brightly and put the book down, reassuring him of her mental well being.

“Perhaps let's stave off a bit longer from such sad works,” he started,perking back up, “I expect a good Puck from you my lady.” The woman next picked up the copy of 'Midsummer’s’ and flipped it open for a moment enjoying the scent it gave off.

“I’ll have the words before me at least to make a slightly easier match for your skills at the least, but only once my work is finished,” the woman said closing the book again with a snap and handing it to John. She picked up the measuring tape and thought for a moment before asking, “ Speaking of memory, may I use your journal to jot down the numbers? I can copy them into my own later.” John was already flipping through parts of the play and nodded in response.

The woman made her way across the tiny room to grab her partner’s journal and pencil,quickly opening it up to a fresh page as she returned back to the fireplace. She wrote down various things that would likely need measuring for a shirt, waistcoat, trousers and the like such as arms, shoulders, back, chest...hips and legs. She felt a bit fuzzy for a moment as the thought of where she would have to touch to do this. She felt so silly after practically hanging off the man like needy cat to its owner but still. It had never meant anything before, such as remeasuring Aron when he claimed he would need his clothes adjusted because of supposed ‘dramatic weight gain in the pubs’ or some such nonsense. But Aron was just her brother. She shook her head telling herself this was nothing more than practical work and snapped herself for such feminine antics of the mind making her into a coward.

Finishing up the notes the woman said,

“I`ll start with a measurement for a hat then. You never know, but there may be one that suits you.” Even with starting doubts about it, Lia figured a bowler or a gambler might suit him. She softly brushed his hair back behind his ears. He seemed to shiver in response, having been to absorbed in looking for the next line to expect her touch. He seemed to unconsciously lean his head into her hand repeating `You never know` in a dreamy voice. She did her best not to giggle as he quickly straightened himself coming to his senses. He cleared his throat and seemed to have picked his next passage to read,

“Yet mark’d I where the bolt of cupid fell. It fell upon a little western flower, before milk-white, now purple with love’s wound.” Lia finished and wrote down the sum before quickly fussing with John’s hair as she had mussed it up good enough. He stopped reading for a second and Lia noticed he was grinning at her, she guessed for her overly concentrated expression. She stuck her tongue out at him before going back to a professional tint and saying,

“Let`s go with your arms next. I will take the left then.” The woman adjusted her position to his left side while John started the next line, quietly complying,

“...and maidens call it love in-idleness. Fetch me that flow`r; the herb I showed thee once.” Lia felt she was distracting him as she took a few measures of his hand for he stopped again for a point in time. He looked thoughtfully at her fingers tracing over his hands and wrists and only once she was finished did he seem able to continue.

“ The Juice of it on sleeping eyelids laid will make man or woman madly dote upon the next line creature that it sees.” As he spoke the woman had gently motioned for his arm to straighten so she could get the next number. Then she put down the tape and picked up her pencil to jot down a sketch to accompany her notes and dimensions.

“Fetch me this herb, and be thou here again,Ere the leviathan can swim a league,” as he finished the line, Lia quickly put down the notebook and made a lap skipping around the man saying,

“I’ll put a girdle ‘round the earth in forty minutes” And John spun around watching her before responding in jest,

“ I can’t be both the earth and Oberon.”

“Perhaps Oberon is the earth to Puck. He is rather dedicated for a hobgoblin.” she quickly shot back with a snicker and did a final lap before sitting down for a moment, John joining her. He looked also fairly dizzy and shook his head rubbing his temple with both hands for a moment. Ophelia picked up the tape once more,

“I need to get your back and shoulders next so if you could stand for me.” John took a firm grip of the back of the couch as he stood, apparently still not totally over spinning around as he did. He picked up the book but asked,

“Is that the only line of puck I will get out of you then?”

“Of course not,” Lia quickly responded as if awestruck at such a statement.She started laying the tape over his back and spoke,

“And as I am an honest puck, if we have unlearned luck, now to scape the serpent’s tongue, we will make amends ere long; else the puck a liar call…” she paused skipping a bit of the speech, “Give me your hands, if we be friends, and Robin shall restore amends.” and she went around to face her friend once more and put her hands out, facing up and the man placed his hands on hers with a wily grin.

“I’m glad amends were made then,” she said going back to her work. She had already forgotten the measurement and went to retake it, running her hands across John’s shoulders slowly enjoying the feel of his shirt rippling under her touch. The man seemed silenced by her actions but was looking through the play again for more lines. She finished his back and shoulders listening to the comforting sound of pages turning and took down the next totals. She realised she still needed his chest and waist measurements next and now felt bubbly at the prospect. There was no way to do it that wouldn't fluster the poor man, and she was enjoying herself more than anticipated. She wondered if he would always react so shyly to her touch.

“Chest and waist are up, If you could hold out your arms for me then.” She asked watching his pale cheeks pinken slightly. As she pulled the tape around his back, Lia let herself lean fully against the man for a moment, bringing the object back around to meet itself and could feel the rapid beating of his heart. She looked up to see his eyes glistening like a cat on hunt and she truly felt akin to her mousy nickname, but only for a moment.

But not only that, his arms had moved loosely around her, his hands landing on her shoulders limply gripping her. She felt his fingers curling and straightening with confusion at what to do, but more often went towards clutching her tighter. And Ophelia could feel his need to do so, now more than ever before. His presence shifted the air to desire, his feelings falling over her like petals from a spring tree. And the woman could easily imagine them standing in a field of yellow wind-blown poppies.

But the moment came to a close and John seemed to snap out of it and his eyes softened reminding her more of welsh poppies after a light shower, but gleaming with so much emotion. And just as quickly as the feeling had come over them, it retracted. The petals lay still on the ground, the man’s fingers slipping back to his sides lifelessly as if they were torn branches from a storm. The field disappeared around them back into the apartment, and Lia came back to her senses noticing the tape had slipped totally from one of her hands and barely held in the other. Yet, what an invigorating experience.She so wanted to live in that flower field with John, tumbling in the beauty of it all with their bodies never leaving each other. And even after the thought had faded, Lia forgot to scold herself for such thoughts.

The woman dipped down and grabbed the tape once more. She looked up again to see a guilt in the man’s eyes and moved to grab the tape around him with one hand and started rubbing his arm comfortingly. Then she moved in and kissed a scar along his collarbone and lay her head there for a moment, her hand continuing its soothing motion. She took in the sound of his nervous heartbeat slowing into a more calm state. She let her hand languidly move to further encourage John. Decidedly, she would have to pay more attention to her partner’s past wounds as feeling him so close and at peace near her felt like coming home.

The man didn’t move to repress his shiver and kissed her head, his arms revitalizing and laying over her shoulders for a moment till Lia felt he was properly blooming once more.She even felt his fingers which had lingered over her curls start to curl around them timidly but in a relaxed manner. Feeling such a sensation made Lia break into a smile. It was then that she allowed herself to break the silence,

“We're you able to find another part to your liking?” She asked hoping to break the poor fellow from his stunned state. His head snapped down to look at her as she noted the number needed.

“I-I think so,” he said a bit shakily. Lia looked down to check the measurement of his waist, using her fingers as a guide to check. Another quiver was felt and the woman couldn't stop smiling.

“ You are enjoying this then?” John said with a nervous smile.

“Should I not be?” She fluttered her eyelashes at him as innocently as she could muster glad to ignore her own inner flutterings. She quickly looked at the needed sum and moved back to jot down the measurements once more. As she retracted he seemed to breathe fully once again.

“ Just hips and legs left. Think you can read or would you like a moment?” She said teasing him a bit. He seemed to take it as a challenge and flipped open the book to the page he had marked with his finger.

“ Let it be done, m’lady.” She took up the tape once more and ducked down, kneeling down a bit as the tape settled on his hips. She slowly adjusted it hearing a quick inhale of breath before he dove into his lines.

“Welcome, good Robin. Seest thou this sight? Her dotage now I do begin to pity. For meeting fer of later behind the wood, seeking sweet favors for this hateful fool, I did upbraid her, and fall out with her.” The woman had to move in close to see where the numbers met and kept her focus on the man’s words to help concentrate and quietly pulled the tape back off.She almost felt disappointed he managed to continue without stopping this time, but yet again she felt her own pulse becoming more rapid as she moved further down his body. So it seemed right to stand back, slowly rewinding the tape just to enjoy listening for a moment.

“For she his hairy temples then had rounded With coronet of fresh and fragrant flowers; And that same dew which sometime on the buds, Was wont to swell like round and orient pearls, Stood now within the pretty flouriet’s eyes,” This time she slowly took her time in writing down the next figure. She could hear pride swell a bit in his voice as he finished the last line without a flutter of hesitation, winning her perceived challenge. She smiled in congratulations, enjoying the time she had to fully listen to him read without distraction. Of course, he read beautifully and the woman felt as if she were wrapped in a warm velvet blanket that she ached to not leave. She supposed his voice, when reading any kind of work,always had such an effect on her. Yet sadly for now she had to not let the entrancement overtake her,lest she lose her ability to finish her work.

Ophelia put down the pencil once more, and finally moved on to getting the length of the outside seam. She look the length from his hips to ankles carefully as the man continued confidently now, “Like tears that did their own disgrace bewail. When I had at my pleasure taunted her, And she in mild terms begg’d my patience, I then did ask of her, her changeling child,” as she moved along the length of his legs, she could feel the solidness of his muscles taut as he stood, even as she moved over them with a glancing touch. A few more prominent uplifts of skin could be felt, much like over the rest of his body. She wondered if they were the cause of phantom pains, the hidden scars. She had to recheck her measurement as she had forgotten it in her moment of thought and wrote down the number before lapsing back into her mind. She wondered about the story he had once told her about how he received such scars, a workplace accident at a factory.

Yet she had seen what those wounds looked like, and those kinds of scars and John would have needed a few years of deadly accidents to account for his marking. Lia was sure he would one day tell her a different tale in his own time. They were only at the beginning of their journey as it were. Meanwhile she noticed he had stopped reading, and the woman looked up to see his hands loosely gripping the book as he stared down at her curiously. She gave a small guilty smile.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he asked closing the slim volume and sitting down on the couch. The woman joined him closing the journal as well.

“No need to pay me. I will always give them freely to you if you ask. I guess I was wondering,do they,” she paused mirroring the scars along his neck and face on herself, “I don’t wish to pry to much, but I can’t help but wonder if those...still hurt ever? I wonder if maybe there was something I could do to help if so. It’s a silly question I know, but I would hate to know you suffer any kind of pain...especially if I could prevent it.” She looked down into her lap feeling ridiculous as she felt her darling’s hand touching her face and lifting it once more. He seemed genuinely happy, his hand sliding down to meet hers,

“It’s very considerate. And yes, sometimes, in some places… but it's not always a physical pain I suppose. Yet again, I wonder what the difference is, the pain of the flesh and the pain of memory.”

“One heals faster than the other,”The woman started thoughtfully, her mind turning to that which lived within her and had made her do such terrible things in the name of her Lord above. The pain of those sins always weighed so heavily on her till she had come into the Jenkin’s care. And with John, from the first correspondence, the shackles of the past seemed nothing but a far gone nightmare. She shook off the thought to continue, “Naturally physical pain heals with time and proper care. It is always easier to restore what one cannot see. But memory is no different.So many think simply because one cannot see a gaping wound of the heart that it isn’t a tangible thing.It too must be tended to with just as much care.” The man nodded in agreement before responding,

“But like many wounds are not properly treated, such things can fester and leave such defects on the soul can they not?”

“Yes, but they can also be healed by a kind hand. And though wounds, both of the mind and body make us remember bitter times in our life,” the woman paused one hand drifting to the discolored patch over the bridge of her nose and feeling more aware of such places on her body once more,” they can also remind us to have hope and keep faith in the future. Both are lit paths laid out for us in darkness if only we choose to follow them.”

John had a look of guilt wash over him, making Lia wonder what other things he had yet to tell her. She let her hands grip his once more, pulling them to her heart.She gazed at him feeling passion well up within her and said,

“Such memories, scars, whatever they may be are always kept with us for a reason, though Lord above only knows why. But we must remember the past to find a better path. And most importantly the good, kind, wonderful things remind us that there is always hope...and love.” The man drew his lips together tightly, and let out a murmur of starting tears. But he spoke after a while with a clear voice,

“You have given me the best salve there is then. But is isn’t that I neglect the pain ,it sometimes seems to blister at night, demanding I treat it when I am powerless to do so,” the man stared at their entwined hands, his voice growing soft and distant.

“Well I shall stand guard at the gate then, and treat them if needed as they come to the door,” Ophelia stated with certainty and an assured nod. She then took their entwined hands and raised them to her lips before laying their cool touch to her cheek and holding them there for a juncture in time. The silliness of her words and her romantic actions seemed to break the man's darker thoughts as it had helped many children with nightmares she had helped in the past. He gave a quick grip of her hand before releasing it,

“I will be counting on you then,” he picked the book back up….”and I have lost my place it seems.” He spoke with a slow smile at the least. The woman mirrored him and just to make sure he was truly feeling better she moved it and stroked along his cheek, playing with his hair a bit, which made him laugh. With that she felt confident she could go back to work, trying to remember what she had left to do once more. Oh yes, inside seam. As if she wasn’t distracted enough. She kneeled back down on the floor, adjusting her skirts out of the way before asking,

“If you wouldn’t mind, could you just need to move your legs to about shoulder length for me” John looked down at her with surprise at her request, a blush on his cheek and surely he could see hers as well. She nodded him to go on suppressing a giggle as he seemed to have lost his place in the book once more and took a stroke to re-find it, almost fumbling a bit but did as requested. She sat back and make a motion of waiting patiently, figuring it would only be polite to let him try to get through the next line. He sighed and began again,

“...her changeling child; Which straight she gave me, and her fairy sent To bear him to my bower in fairy land. And now I have the boy, I will undo This hateful imperfection of her eyes.” The woman had placed her fingers near where she could measure the inside seam of the pants and could feel warmth and had absolute concentration to make sure her hands grazed nothing, though part of her thoughts were wicked enough to tempt her. She finished though and with a sigh of relief she rewound the tape for the last time and took her last notes letting John continue in peace.

“...That he,awaking when the other do, May all Athens back again repair, And think no more of this night’s accidents, But as the fierce vexation of a dream.But first I will release the Fairy Queen.” With everything finished the woman closed the book and stood back watching with admiration as John took the last lines and looked at her as he spoke them,

“Be as thou wast wont to be; See as thou wast wont to see. Dian’s bud o’er Cupid’s flower. Hath such force and blessed power. Now, my Titania, wake you, my sweet queen.” The woman felt her lips pucker as she bit her bottom lip at the way he said ‘my sweet queen’ and went with it making a swooning motion against him.

“My oberon, what visions I have seen! Methought I was enamor’d of an ass.” And she spun and looked at the couch in apparent horror. John broke character exclaiming,

“And yet Oberon always seemed to be more an ass then bottom ever acted. Hardly kingly behavior.” Lia turned back to him.

“I always thought so as well. Bottom was always very kind to the fairies considering,” the woman said putting down her tape measure and grabbing the book to flip through for another good line. Keeping her eyes on the book and keeping her posture casual she asked,

“ Did you get to see any of Shakespeare's plays back when you were working with Vincent?”
Lia watched the man clutch the edges of the couch but took a breath and loosened his grip before responding,

“Early on I got to witness `The tempest`or should I say `a butchered hunk of it` as Vincent called it,”Relaxing back against the divan he revealed a smile of sentimentality, “ He would often join me in my room, well where I stayed in the theatre anyway. We would read lines together, often with drink. I often felt no more than a youth.” Lia watched John’s eyes look both at the fire and nothing, hands folding together in his lap. Daring to not break the flow of thoughts she merely sat down next to him and continued her search for lines.

After flipping through a few more pages she looked back to see his hands balling up together, fingers gripping tightly enough that they turned a slight reddish hue. The woman immediately put down the book and moved her hand over his, lightly brushing over his clenched fingers and wrist seeming to bring him back. His head scarcely turned, eyes still a bit glassy as he continued,

“There are things of which I many not speak; There are dreams that cannot die; There are thoughts that make the strong heart weak,” he mumbled fervently as his hands moved to grip hers, “And bring a pallor to the cheek, and a mist before the eye. And the words of that fatal song come over me like a chill,” The woman felt John`s thumb caressing her own, seeming to hold onto her like a strong mast in a terrible storm, “A boy's will is the wind's will, and the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.”

Even with the warmth of the room, the man shuddered and then fully turning his head to look at Lia he silently apologized. She smiled back encouragingly but a bit confused. Was that a poem as well? She didn’t recognize it. Seeing her puzzled expression the man explained though speaking as if he had come out of a trance

“ By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, an American you know. It’s called, `My lost Youth’. I found him when reading about Poe a while back...Very good piece anyway.” He turned to look back at his collection on the shelf his features twisting into question for a moment. “ But sadly I do not have any of his work. Perhaps your Mr. Jenkins has a collection on American poetry?”

It was Ophelia`s turn to think as she scanned her memories of working a few days before in the shop downstairs. A few titles came to mind, though they were shoved in the back corner on a low shelf. Ernest may have his love for all works, but anything outside of England was more of a stepchild in terms of the affection given. Sometimes his tastes were enough to make a stuffed bird laugh, that was for sure. But the old man was always good natured about it at the least.

“I believe he does. He can be a bit judgemental at times, though he would never admit it. Hates to say he is critical of anything to his customers lest they might judge it too harshly. Yet again I think there is no shame in having our opinions ,without shame, on such topics.” John looked at her a bit bewildered.

“On the contrary, if I may say so, I have yet to find such criticism easy to bestow,” His posture straightened as he moved his hands away from hers slightly, trying to find a way to explain himself, “ Poetry is ...glimpses into the soul. So as it is such a vulnerable show of one's self I don’t think it fair to be cruel.I think I explained it better a few weeks before everything has been a bit of a blur lately.” His face turned to a bashful smile as the woman recalled the conversation he was speaking of.

“I do recall, but I still think it a bit hard to believe. I mean, if one publishes their work like any other art form, they open themselves up to critical opinion….”

---===---

And once again the two became wrapped up in conversation as the fire burned slowly down and day became the embers of dusk. Lia had triumphed in her opinion on the state of criticism but as they had moved onto Marlowe and his works compared to Shakespeare John held the upper hand in his thoughts that they had merely collaborated versus Shakespeare outright stealing Marlowe’s work.

To spare herself from trying to climb out of the logistical hole she had made, the woman noted it was a good time to finally start making their way down to the rag-faire. And seeming settled in his win the man agreed and they both rose from the couch and prepared to meet the frigid air of the winter night.

By the door, Ophelia had finished lacing her shoes up as she noticed John openly grinning at her and looking like he had a thought stuck on the tip of his tongue.

“No need to get poked up if you got to say something. Out with it then,” she sputtered before standing up and moving to put on her coat. The man had already finished and leaned back against the wall and decidedly not looking at her said,

“ please try not to fall this time.” In which Lia found it prudent to lean herself in his direction and fall towards him, knowing he would catch her. She stuck her tongue out at him and immediately responded,

“Like this, you mean?”

“To think... I ever thought you were a thoroughly mature. Yes, like this.” He quickly leveled her but then brought her closer to him, wrapping his arms around her.

“I don’t know what I would do if you got hurt,” he said before reluctantly letting her go.

Lia felt a little disconcerted by his sobering response, but enjoyed the care he took in his thoughts for her. She sighed at his worry but still looked at him gratefully, letting her eyes meet his while her hands snaked around his neck,

“You would carry me all the way home of course, right?” She asked.

“If you wish me to carry you, my lady, it would be my honor,” John responded holding the woman a bit tighter as he lifted her from the ground for a moment. Lia gripped tighter, a gasp of breath escaping her at the unexpected flight from the ground but smiled wondering if she should ask him to spin her around. Indeed, she might have been a flower plucked from the warm earth for the ease of which she was lifted.

Once settled back on the ground, the woman immediately laid a kiss of John’s cheek, her fingers smoothing out his coat as she pulled them back. She certainly wished she could have stayed there in his embrace a bit longer, but there were errands to be done. Once a step away she dropped into a more formal curtsey to say,

“Thank you kind sir, I do pray I won’t befall an unfortunate situation to heed such assistance...and I must admit I hardly found it disagreeable to be a few centimeters taller,” she ended jokingly, quickly checking her small handbag for everything she would need that night. And with that she opened the door and motioned for John to head out before her. She followed quickly feeling the chill in the hallway and immediately missing the warmth inside as she locked the door.

The woman almost unconsciously set her scarf over her face to cover the whitened patch of skin over the bridge of her nose with an ease of many years practice. She watched John similarly pull his hair down around his face and flip the collar of his coat up ,as she had seen him do so many times before and she immediately felt a pang of guilt at her own actions. She slipped her own scarf down around her neck and silently moved her loved one`s hands away from the collar and smoothed it down. Then she spoke from one of the poems that had been stuck in her head for the last few days,

“I never saw so sweet a face, as that I stood before,
my heart has left its dwelling place, and can return no more.” John’s eyes glimmered in recognition,

“And once more, my namesake betrays me it seems,” he started, now readjusting his hair back behind his ear and saying more of the poem in a melodic voice,

“I ne’er was struck before that hour
With love so sudden and so sweet,
Her face it bloomed like a flower,
And stole my heart complete.”

Lia was silenced at hearing such words in her direction, and felt herself blushing fiercely, wanting to pull the scarf back up from embarrassment but resisted. John looked both satisfied yet loving at her reaction making her sputter out putting a hand on the nearby railing,

“You do make my heart flutter so,”

“It is only fair then, since you so often do the same to me. I could not say I regret it, but as long as it is only you. I am not sure my poor heart could take it,”he responded quickly enjoying the reaction he had caused for sure, “Yet again, I would not want anyone else but you making me feel this way,” he continued with a change to a loving expression as he moved towards her offering his arm. She took it gladly, glad for the support and admitting to herself that she certainly had teased him overmuch this morning for sure, so it was as he said. She laced her arm through his saying,

“ I feel very much the same. You are a taken man now,after all,” as she led them towards the stairwell. She felt giddy being able to say such a thing as they made their way downstairs the light of the fading sunset filtered in through the small windows of the narrow corridor and stairwell blinding out the dim lamps which Mrs. Jenkins had already lit for the night.

For all the words and actions spoken that day in the comfort of the small apartment, it seemed to slowly dim as they descended back into the outside world. But every butterfly must emerge from its cocoon and they were certainly ready for flight in the world that suddenly seemed so changed now that they knew they had each other. Her mind wondered, as the cold seemed to seep into her, if John could ever need a scarf how cold it was outside. Yet again, if she were to perhaps make him one, he would wear it nonetheless. It would certainly a more personal gift than a book,though she doubted he would ever turn one down.

And better yet it would be a great excuse to meet up with her closest friend, Maddy to assist her in possibly doing so in the near future. She had always desired to better her skills since her friend far exceeded her abilities. And of course, they could have a chance to catch up on some light gossip. Maddy had been utterly thrilled to hear about John visiting her when they last spoke and would never forgive Lia if she took too long to get back to her with today's happenings.

But for now she leaned close against John as they stopped briefly on a landing. She peered out the quickly fogging window panes to see through the maze of buildings a slice of the sea beyond.

“Did I ever tell you how much I love sunsets?” Ophelia found herself saying wistfully before starting to move and John following.

“More times than I can count... but none possessing your allure” he said the second bit to himself and based on how he too was looking out the window. She was honored to hear such a thing but didn’t wish to embarrass him as she often knew the feeling. Instead she asked,

“So then I assume the sea reminds you of the cliffs near the village then too?” The woman laughed,

“You certainly got me there. Suddenly you can read my thoughts then?” She asked jovially. She was glad to note, he was able to keep a calm demeanor as they made their way down the stairwell. He so often seemed to simply shrink into himself when going to any public area.

“I wish. You talk so often of that place I can see it as if I was actually there.” Lia felt a blush rise rise in her cheeks once more. They reached the bottom of the stairs and John went to open the door for her. Before she went through it she asked,

“ Am I really that bad?” John kept his voice in a quieter tone but still a bit playful as he closed the door behind them. Lia gripped his arm a bit tighter with her own,

“How could you say such a thing? It is a gift for sure, if anything.” He took a breath, nodding as if to acknowledging the self-deprecating statement for what what it. He moved on, putting it behind him,

“You'll have to take me there one day. You said before there's a train to a nearby town to the village?” Lia leaned in a bit closer to the man’s side enjoying the protection against the winter wind and led the way towards the Thames River.

“After Folkestone it's not terribly far. Just two hours by carriage. But once there you always feel like you've traveled back in time and place where the world is a more innocent state… I also have more then enough friends there who could lend us a more private place to stay.”

As they went towards the correct road, starting to be surrounded by the flow of people once more the woman felt John's arm’s tense, she heard the soft but audible gulp. She took her free hand rubbing it against his arm, leaning her head against it as well understanding his concern. Yet she felt herself laugh just as bit in happiness that they would walk as any other couple along the thames that evening. After a few minutes they reached the sidewalks on the river`s edge and all had dimmed to a calm twilight before John finally responded,

“I should like to go then, one day. Never been on a train before either...Seems terribly public you know?"

“I could arrange a private carriage for us on it. Aron and I have done so a few times over the years when we go back to visit. He still has a lot of friends back in Sandgate as it is.”

“ You said he worked on a harbor there as well?”

“And a few other odd jobs in the village as well. We always try to go back for the festival every summer at least. The sisters always need help with plans.”

“Sounds like a wonderful time,” the man said distantly, it seems envisioning the event. Lia herself could see it, and felt excitement slowly gaining at the realistic prospect of actually going.

“You'll love it when we go one of these years.” The man scoffed a bit in disbelief.

“I`m glad in your confidence of the future.” The woman turned and pressed a kiss against his shoulder, but then stopped and turned to face him. She used her free hand to place a hand to his scarred
cheek, making sure he was looking at her instead of eyes darting around to all the people.

“Perhaps I’m just a psychic then. And I can see how much romantic it will be having you dance with me under the moonlight when we go.” The man smiled down at her, expression relaxing,

“From your spying, my little mouse, I’m sure you saw I can hardly dance.”

“You only tempt me to make you practice with me then like you did once with Miss Ives.” The two kept up the banter as they started passing through a nicer area and the people around them shifted from sailors and other workers heading home to rich couples strolling along the plazas and department stores, their glittering electric lights starting to make the whole area feel like a dreamed day instead of the definite night. Ophelia felt herself slow , and sat on a rock wall by the river’s edge , in between the lights to be just in shadow. John stood nervously shifting beside her but tried to maintain calm for her sake. He simply asked,

“Are your legs tired?”

“Just drinking in the atmosphere. Join me. They aren’t going to be looking at us,” she said reaching out and pulling him to sit beside her. He motioned to pull his collar up but as he moved his arm to do so, the woman gently stopped him, pulling his hands into hers. He looked around nervously but within a few moments he seemed to relax taking in the truth of her motioning. She noticed only a few curious glances in their direction but never for long. John leaned a bit back on her and started speaking quietly,

“Science! true daughter of Old Time thou art!
Who alterest all things with thy peering eyes.
Why preyest thou thus upon the poet’s heart,
Vulture, whose wings are dull realities?
How should he love thee? or how deem thee wise,
Who wouldst not leave him in his wandering
To seek for treasure in the jewelled skies,
Albeit he soared with an undaunted wing?
Hast thou not dragged Diana from her car,
And driven the Hamadryad from the wood
To seek a shelter in some happier star?
Hast thou not torn the Naiad from her flood,
The Elfin from the green grass, and from me
The summer dream beneath the tamarind tree?” Lia took in his soft spoken words.

“Poe, then?” He nodded.

“Such overexposure to light or Forbidden knowledge, to me ,does nobody any favors; It hides the mystery of the stars does it not?”Lia looked up and indeed she could not see beyond the glare of the lights nearby. But she felt a stitch of pain at such a revelation.

“It isn’t all bad you know. A beacon calls the lost from the sea. A lamp can light the midnight hour of creativity better than a single candle, does it not? It must all be slowly taken in stride, to be able to bathe in the warmth of light without forgetting what the constellations look like.” John certainly took on an amused expression at her counter to him.

“Are you my beacon then, leading me gently to shore?”

“On a stormy night when the stars can’t guide you I would be there waiting to bring you to my shore... where my arms like paths would lead you home... to where my heart lies forever waiting for your return.” she said taking time to pick out the right words,”if that’s what you mean?,” she said back with the sweetest grin she could muster. But the man’s breath hitched as he looked at her with a deep longing and then moved to pull her close and kiss her head and they stayed like that for a moment. Lia moved her arms around him, anyone watching be damned. When he released her John seemed totally at ease. They both got off the the rock wall silently, contently and started walking again as both noticed the attention being sent in their direction. As they reached the high beam of the next lamp John suddenly tensed up again, his head starkly turned to look across the street and to the shops beyond.

Lia peered around him but only saw a particular couple, rich and snobby as any of the others, stopped and watching it felt like. It felt piercing and John acted as an animal in the crosshairs of a hunter. Then moved swiftly with Lia barely having time to process what just happened , keeping her firm grip on him as John moved with that piercing gaze at his back, it felt like. But such a predatory gaze hadn’t escaped Ophelia either. Never had she felt anything quite like it and was eager to ask,

“ Do you know them?” her voice soft and slightly out of breath, as they had escaped the last of electric lights. But he said nothing at first and the woman at least waited till there was an even darker area before stepping in front of her partner making him stop his eyes slowly focusing in on her. He still anxiously shifted about foot to foot seeming to want to get as far from the perceived threat as possible. Had one of those people done something to him? LIa remembered the woman more, this sense of calling from afar.That inner part of her smelling blood knowing it's source. She felt a shiver run through her as John finally spoke,

“It’s naught but a nightmare and it’s over.” He seemed to note to himself as much as he did to her. Lia stroked his cheek comfortingly finding it strange to see such an immediate change but dare not ask any further. Not now.