Stefan’s Diaries: Origins Chapter 7

The next hebdomad passed in a blur. I ran from fittings at Mrs. Fellss stage shop to visits with Rosalyn in the C artwrights faithful parlor to the tavern with Damon. I well-tried to forget Katherine, leaving my shutters closed so I wouldnt be tempted to look crossways the lawn at the carriage house, and forcing myself to smile and vagabond at Damon and Katherine when they explored the gardens.Once I went up to the attic to look at the depicting of M opposite. I wondered what adv nut case shed view for me. Love is patient, I remembered her saying in her lilting French accent during Bible hire. The notion soothe me. Maybe love could come to me and Rosalyn. later that, I tried to love Rosalyn, or at least garner well-nigh kind of affection for her. I knew, nates her quietness and her dishwater blond h ambiance, she was simply a sweet female child whod mark a doting wife and m another(prenominal). Our most new visits hadnt been awful. In fact, Rosalyn had been in remarkab ly heavy spirits. Shed gotten a new dog, a slick black beast named Sadie, which shed taken to carrying everywhere lest the new puppy suffer the akin fate as Penny had. At ace point, when Rosalyn looked up at me with cordial eyeball, asking if Id prefer lilacs or gardenias at the wedding, I almost matte fond of her. Maybe that would be enough.Father had ineffectual no time in cookery another troupe to celebrate. This time, it was a barbeque at the estate, and Father had invited everyone within a twenty-mile radius. I recognized only a handful of the young men, pretty girls, and all(a)ied soldiers who milled to a greater extent or less the labyrinth, acting as if they confessed the estate. When I was younger, I employ to love the parties at Veritasthey were always a chance to gush down to the ice pond with our friends, to play hide-and- hitchk in the swamp, to ride horses to the Wickery Bridge, then dare for each one other to dive into the icy depths of willow tree C reek. Now I in force(p) wished it were over, so I could be alone in my direction.Stefan, care to share a whi tilt with me? Robert called out to me from the makeshift bar right up on the portico. To judge from his cockeyed grin, he was already drunk.He passed me a sweating tumbler and tipped his own to mine. Pretty soon, there will be young Salvatores all over the grade. empennage you picture it? He swept his pass on expansively over the grounds as if to show me conscionable how much room my imaginary family would have in which to grow.I swirled my whiskey miserably, unable to picture it for myself.Well, youve make your daddy one lucky man. And Rosalyn one lucky girl, Robert said. He lifted his methamphetamine hydrochloride to me one last time, then went to tattle with the Lockwoods over conr.I sighed and sat down on the porch swing, observing the merriment occurring all round me. I knew I should feeling happy. I knew Father only wanted what was beaver for me. I knew that there was nothing malign with Rosalyn.So why did this plight feel like a death meter?On the lawn, people were eating and express emotion and dancing, and a makeshift band do up of my childhood friends Ethan Giffin, Brian Walsh, and Matthew Hartnett was playing a version of The Bonnie Blue Flag. The sky was cloudless and the weather balmy, with just a slight nip in the air to re take heed us that it was, indeed, fall. In the distance, schoolchildren were lilting and shrieking on the gate. To be around so much merrimentall meant for meand not feel happy do my heart thud heavily in my chest.Standing up, I walked inside toward Fathers study. I shut the door to the study and take a breath a sigh of relief. Only the faintest bombard of sunlight peeked through the heavy fancy curtains. The room was cool and smelled of well-oiled leather and musty books. I took out a repress raft of Shakespeares sonnets and turned to my favorite poem. Shakespeare calmed me, the run-in comfor t my brain and reminding me that there soothing my brain and reminding me that there was love and dish in the world. Perhaps experiencing it through art would be enough to sustain me.I settled into Fathers leather club hot seat in the corner and absentmindedly plane the onionskin pages. Im not sure how broad I sat there, letting the spoken language wash over me, but the more than I read, the calmer I felt.What are you schooling?The voice startled me, and the book slid absent my lap with a clatter.Katherine stood at the study entrance, wearing a simple, colour silk dress that hugged every curve of her body. All the other women at the party were wearing layers of crinoline and muslin, their skin guarded under thickset fabric. only when Katherine didnt seem the least crisp embarrassed by her exposed white shoulders. Out of propriety, I glanced out.Why arent you at the party? I asked, bending to hook up my book.Katherine stepped toward me. Why arent you at the party? Arent you the guest of honor? She perched on the beef up of my temper.Have you read Shakespeare? I asked, gesturing to the open air book on my lap. It was a maim attempt to change the conversation I had yet to meet a girl versed in his works. Just yester mean solar twenty-four hourslight, Rosalyn had admitted she hadnt level(p) read a book in the medieval three years, ever since she had graduate from the Girls Academy. Even at that, the last volume shed perused was merely a primer on how to be a dutiful associate wife.Shakespeare, she repeated, her accent expanding the word to three syllables. It was an amusing accent, not one that Id heard from other people from Atlanta. She swung her legs rear and forth, and I could see that she wasnt wearing stockings. I tore my eyes away.Shall I compare thee to a summers day? she quoted.I looked up, astonished. Thou art more lovely and more temperate, I said, act the quote. My heart galloped in my chest, and my brain felt as slow as molas ses, creating an crotchety sensation that do me feel I was dreaming.Katherine yanked the book off my lap, closing it with a resounding clap. No, she said firmly. provided thats how the next line goes, I said, annoyed that she was ever-changing the rules of a game I public opinion I soundless.Thats how the next line goes for Mr. Shakespeare. just I was simply asking you a question. Shall I compare you to a summers day? Are you worthy of that comparison, Mr. Salvatore? Or do you need a book to determine? Katherine asked, grinning as she held the volume just out of my reach.I cleared my throat, my mind racing. Damon would have said something witty in response, without even returning about it. But when I was with Katherine, I was like a schoolboy who tries to impress a girl with a frog caught from the pond.Well, you could compare my brother to a summers day. Y ouve been spending a dish out of time with him. My impertinence reddened, and instantly I wished I could take it back. I sounded so jealous and petty.Maybe a summers day with a few thunderstorms in the distance, Katherine said, bowleg her eyebrow. But you, Scholarly Stefan, you are antithetical from Dark Damon. Or Katherine looked away, a glistening of a grin crossing her faceDashing Damon.I can be dashing, too, I said petulantly, before I even realized what I was saying. I shook my head, frustrated. It was as though Katherine someway compelled me to speak without speculateing. She was so lively and livingtalking to her, I felt as though I was in a dream, where nothing I said would have any consequence but everything I said was important.Well, then, I must see that, Stefan, Katherine said. She placed her icy hand on my forearm. Ive gotten to know Damon, but I hardly know you. Its quite a shame, dont you think?In the distance, the band struck up Im a Good Old Rebel. I knew I needed to get back outside, to smoke a cigar with Mr. Cartwright, to twirl Rosalyn in a first waltz, to toast my place as a man of underground Falls. But instead I remained on the leather club seat, wishing I could stay in the library, breathing in Katherines scent, forever.May I make an utterance? Katherine asked, leaning toward me. An errant dark arch flopped down on her white forehead. I had to use all my strength to disagree pushing it off her face. I dont think you like whats happening right now. The barbecue, the engagement My heart pounded. I searched Katherines brown eyes. For the past week, Id been trying desperately to hide my feelings. But had she seen me pausing outside the carriage house? Had she seen me run Mezzanotte to the forest when she and Damon explored the garden, desperate to get away from their laughter? Had she somehow managed to read my thoughts?Katherine smiled ruefully. Poor, sweet, sloshed Stefan. Havent you learned yet that rules are made to be broken? Y cant makeou anyone happyyour father, Rosalyn, the Cartwrightsif youre not happy yourself.I cleared my throat, ach ing with the realization that this cleaning lady who Id known for a matter of weeks understood me better than my own father and my upcoming wife ever would.Katherine slid off the chair and glanced at the volumes on Fathers shelves. She took down a thick, leather-bound book, The Mysteries of Mystic Falls. It was a volume Id neer seen before. A smile lit her rosy lips, and she beckoned me to join her on my fathers couch. I knew I shouldnt, but as if in a trance, I stood and crossed the room. I sank into the cool, buggy leather cushion next to her and just let go.After all, who knew? Perhaps a few moments in her presence would be the balm I needed to break of serve my melancholia.