I've Always Felt Your Heart

Love can hide, and not be discovered for a long time. But it's there. it might just take you a while to notice it's there. This is the story of a girl and boy, growing up and sharing their lives together. But just as friends. Well, I can't really say. It's complicated...

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1. 8th September 2001

Children's laughter filled the air, entwined with a warmth, like freshly baked bread in a winter's morning. The first day back at school, always joyful, whatever age they are. For the younger ones, it's the most exciting, nerve racking thing they've done served up in one day. Little girls in their red and white checked dresses, and little boys in their white polo shirts and black shorts. All of them running around, bursting with energy. Some of them playing with others, some of them just as happy playing on their own. They were all smiling away, shining like the sun rolling high in the sky.

 

There was a field, that during the summer, the children were free to play on. They were all there, chasing each other, playing games with their unrealistic but creative imaginations. Some used nothing but themselves, some played balls games on the short cut grass. There was a large area of grass, cut short of balls games and group activities. Then a few trees are dotted along the side of it, opening up into the long grass grass, with a path of short grass like a racetrack. On the far side, there was another path, similar to the other, just wider. But a tree has planted itself in the middle of the path, a surrounded the ground around it with dry dust like dirt. In the corner furthest from the concrete playground was a very large oak tree, with a resident home of birdhouse settled high upon it. From the oak tree, stretched across alongside with the short cut area was an actual racetrack used in sporting activities. Quite a few children racing along it, some in their shoes, some not.

 

One boy wasn't in amongst any of these games, he was sitting there, on his own. Underneath one of the trees next to the football area on the grass, watching others play. Brushing his hands along the dry dirt burying the tree's roots, disbursing small clouds of brown dust into the air. He flickered his blue eyes back and forth between the football game, and the dust sticking to his hands. He wasn't too bothered about the ever growing amount of dirt on his hands. Just brushed it on his trousers, and continued with the repetitive motion of his hands along the Earth. It was then a shadow was cast upon his hands, curiously, he looked up.

 

Standing in front of him was a girl, of the same age as him, looking at him. She wasn't like all the other girls, she was the only one not wearing a dress. She was dressed the same as the boys, a polo shirt and shorts. She didn't say anything, she just watched him, wonder growing in her grey eyes. After a minute of observing, she sat down opposite him, words still not passing her tongue. The boy didn't look up into her eyes, just kept his eyes plotted on his hands no longer increasing with dirt. Them just awkwardly laying on the ground, with blasts of dirt on his palms and fingertips. The girl tilted her head, confused. Her head lowered slightly to his hands, trying to suss why so much dirt was gathered on his skin.

 

“Why are you dirty?” she asked, finally breaking the mute status between them. He was surprised at this moment in time, both at her being there, and her actually speaking to him. He opened his mouth, but shyness took over, then clinched his mouth close. He might not have enough courage to speak, but he had enough of it to look at her. Carefully, he glanced up at her, like a tortoise in it's shell, just peeking out. He almost surprisingly jumped. She was smiling at him. He shyly smiled, while his cheeks grew in saturation of rosiness, but hid in his shell. But the girl saw his blushing, smiling face and giggled, displaying one of her front teeth were missing. Hearing her laugh gave him a sense of friendliness from her, so he sat up.

 

“My name's Freya, what's yours?” she said while sticking her hand out, waiting for a reply. He looked at her hand for a moment, unsure if it was there by the looks of the wideness in his eyes. He quickly slapped the dirt off his hands and gently placed one of them into her grip. Happy, she shook it slowly. Her skin was cool on his rather hot palm. He smiled. “Blake,” he finally uncovered, still shy though. He wasn't quite sure why she was talking to him, but he was glad.

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