Between Love and Pages (Roni's love story)

Chapter Four - Victor's Perspective

Victor Vaughn

In the opinion of Victor, coming across a soul that gifted him genuine interest was a chance that was slim to none. He could count on one hand the people that truly intrigued him, his father being included in that amount.

Hearing Roni speak had certainly spiked his interest and curiosity. She was different than most people he had to converse with on the day to day. She spoke to him as though she were the most self-assured woman in the world, though that probably wasn't true. He was impressed by her poise as he watched her neatly sit up in her chair and hold her tea cup with her pinky slightly open. He believed that she spoke with intellect and insight, which made it hard for him to determine her age—she could've been in her early twenties or thirties, he wasn't sure. He was secretly conjuring up a way to ask her without seeming creepy.

They had been conversing for a long while, Victor having gone through three cups of tea and a few biscuits that they had shared, which had him impressed with the taste. It was rare for him to find tea and biscuits in America that compared to having it back home, in England.

Over the course of their conversation, Victor had learned a few things about Roni. For one, she didn't like her knees being touched—he found that out the hard way. She was quite easy to talk to, and even easier to debate with. He didn't think they had a fierce argument, but they had gotten into a conversation that required both of their viewpoints, and she handled it rather well, in his opinion.

"Victor?" Roni asked while placing a hand atop of his, pulling him out of the deep thoughts he got himself into.

"Oh—uh, I'm sorry Roni." His eyes widened slightly in embarrassment—he realized he had been staring at her in a dazed manner as she was speaking about something. He could not help it—he thought her quite beautiful and pleasing to the eye.

"Victor, darling, don't apologize!" She gushed, smiling. He couldn't help but let out a laugh at her choice of an endearing word. "I was just asking you about your accent. Where are you from, exactly?"

"Well, I grew up in Bibury, with my mum." He explained, a smile making its way to his face at the memory of his mum.

"Oh, Bibury! How lovely!" She said fondly, taking another sip of her tea.

"Yes, I miss it quite a lot actually. America is nice, but nothing compares to the comforts of home."

The thought of Bibury had sent a warm feeling to his heart. He hadn't been home to see his mum in quite awhile, and knew deep down that he should pay her a visit soon. Work had become tragically busy, Mr. Forester pulling him left and right, but he wouldn't use that as an excuse.

"I don't mean to pry, but can I ask why you moved to America?" Roni asked, looking at him with those dark and intense eyes. He seldom felt intimidated in conversation but the woman in front of him had eyes that God must have carefully carved; they were windows to her soul and contained such intense emotion. He had previously seen Egyptian women with eyes similar to hers, but none of them could compare to hers.

"Uh-" He had to clear his throat, "-some years back my uncle, who lives in Boston, fell ill for a time. I came to live with him and tended to his needs. After he recovered, I chose to stay. Mr. Forester was, still is, a good friend of my uncles and offered me a high paying job I couldn't resist."

"I'm glad that your uncle recovered—I thought for a moment that your story would take a turn." She admitted, pretending to wipe sweat from her brow. "I still have yet to figure out what kind of man Mr. Forester is, and why you would work for such a man."

Victor let out a chuckle, leaning back into his chair. "He's a good man, but I find that he gets, well, overly passionate."

"If you call overly passionate sending threats to someone's inbox, then I thoroughly agree." She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest, a look he read as annoyance etching its way onto her face.

He couldn't help but squirm in his seat, conjuring up a way to delicately confess his next sentence. "Technically, I'm the one who sent the email."

Those intense Egyptian eyes found his again, holding a mixture of confusion and betrayal. "Excuse me?" Her voice came out quite rough, sending his heart into overdrive.

Bollocks, Victor! Why would you confess such a thing? He thought, realizing how stupid he was.

"I-I sent the email, at Mr. Forester's request." He cringed at his own words, wishing he could take everything back so Roni wouldn't stare at him with such fury.

She stayed silent for a moment before letting out a quiet scoff, coming to a stand while pushing her chair back. "Good day, Mr. Vaughn." She held an icy gaze, sending his soul into an arctic tundra, and he couldn't help but watch in befuddlement as she grabbed her things and headed for the door, slightly stamping her feet as she went.

•••

Dear Roni,
I couldn't help but laugh at how utterly  hilarious the end scene was to write. you're so passionate and are never afraid to leave when you feel it necessary.