Miles of greenery are contrasting with the cerulean sky, and Anastasia finds herself once again standing in front of the two. She recognizes the fluffy white clouds she has been staring at not long ago, but the rest is very different.

Here, the green is tidy and defined. Rows of perfectly lined up bushes are alternating with aisles of sandy brown, and the green leaves are trapped between thin branches and thick supports. The ensemble is forming a sea of parallel lines, except for a few rebel branches breaking free in various directions and disturbing the harmony, and staring at this straight order for too long, her head is starting to spin.

She blinks and glances to the sides, but the vast rectangles of green, yellow, or brown are as dizzying, and wherever she is looking, this vertigo feeling might come more from the inside and these spiraling thoughts in her head. They are spinning so fast that she can't even catch them clearly and analyze the situation like she always does. 

She can't even catch her breath; she has come here by car, yet it's as if she has just run all the way.

"Hey, Ana!"

Actually, she is the one that feels caught at the call of her name, the jump out of her daze being quite literal, once more, and as she turns to meet Fergus's lifted eyebrows, she realizes how crazy she must look, starting like she has just been trapped by a dangerous stranger, when his steps on the gravel path have announced him, and especially when they have been supposed to join here.

She is getting more and more on edge today, and she really has to steady her jumpy heart, nerves, and mind before it can lead to her downfall.

"Let me just put that down." Fergus nods to the sheaf of branches he is holding, pulling her out of her thoughts once again, and this time, she tries to stay there, on earth with him.

"You've already started? I thought we were supposed to start at half-past five?"

She has just checked the time when she has arrived, and she has no doubt she is already early. She could have stayed these five minutes Nathaniel has pleaded, maybe even ten. But everything has been too overwhelming, and she has just needed some time to calm down, which she still hasn't managed yet, and it seems like it will have to wait for later again.

"Yes, but on time is already late, and I like to be early." 

She stares at him, barely reacting as he comes closer, giving her a pruner and a kiss, and she accepts both mechanically, while inside, this familiar saying resonates through the bit of order her brain is seeking.

"Let me show you." He is already grabbing two sacks, leading her to the fields, and she takes this time to really observe him as he starts explaining, "It's simple: we prune the branches that are sticking out, the ones that don't follow the support frame."

She follows his figure dressed in dark green overalls rolled down by his waist that let appear a beige tank highlighting his svelte shape and tanned skin, and when he stops and turns to her, she takes in his driven smile and the sparkle of passion shining in his eyes, the same she has every time she defends causes close to her heart.

"You cut right here. You use the tape measure to trim half an inch from the base like that." He demonstrates easily, and she understands immediately.

The words he is using, and his straight and precise ways to work, it is exactly how her brain functions. It's in moments like these that the 98% hit her.

"Your turn." He doesn't let her time for thinking more, already pointing to the next bush, and in a way, she is thankful for that.

"This one?" She furrows her eyebrows, stopping her pruner an inch away from the only branch standing out as she catches sight of the few buds growing on it.

"Yes. If we let it grow, it will unbalance the rest of the plant. We have to sacrifice a few buds to get the best fruits." He smiles, delighted to show his knowledge in front of her hesitation.

Yet in spite of his assurance, her hands are still shaking as she cuts off the small branch, the low click sound of the tool echoing deep within all her haunting doubts.

"Good." He gives her a sack as he is already focusing on the next row of shrubs, and she does the same, occupying her hands to shut down her thoughts and the deafening impressions coming from her body.

Two hours later, blisters are burning Anastasia's fingers from gripping the pruner firmly, maybe even tighter than necessary, and the muscles of her neck are painfully strained – though they have already been before with all the tensions weighing on her shoulders. However, through all those unpleasant sensations, she feels better. It is not that her worries have shut down, but the soreness is just screaming louder.

She trims the last branch, now disregarding the possible shoots in the sack like her problems in the back of her mind, and the sound of her sigh is covering the faint click of the pruner.

She is almost regretting that they are already done. Yet she doesn't even take another second to breathe, or admire the setting sun lighting fire on the harmony of blue and green. She grabs the heavy sack and joins Fergus by the barn.

Though when she passes the wide entrance of the barn, all her efforts and the kilos from the sack weighing on her tired muscles aren't enough to outweigh the pressure pushing on her chest with the memories of the last time she has been here.

At the time, she has barely known Nathaniel; things have been different. But they have still recklessly given in to this irresistible attraction, and they already have been so close to getting caught.

"Already finished?" Fergus appears in front of her, making her jump once again, and just this jolt of her heart and being caught in her thoughts bring back the freezing shivers of all those 'almost' times where they have taken too many risks, risks for their lives.

"Yeah," She barely finds her voice, but luckily, Fergus is oblivious to her tensions.

"It's so much faster than working alone!" He smiles, grabbing her sack. "And it's nice to spend time together! I really liked it."

His natural confession catches her breath, and this time, it isn't only because her mind has been elsewhere, but because she is preoccupied with so many things these days, and every time she thinks of Fergus, the decisions he wants to impose on her are the only things appearing to her. She hasn't really considered their couple and everything between them. So now she doesn't know what to reply.

"Really?"

"Yes, of course." He puts the branches aside and comes back to her. "We're perfect for each other. The compatibility... everything... it's just easy and nice when we're together."

"Easy..." she repeats, blinking slowly at him as he wraps his arms around her waist.

His hazel eyes are shining at her, and he is so close that she can see clearly every green, brown, and golden shade. It reminds her of their surroundings: the verdant fields, the moist soil, and the wisps of straws here and there; even the rest of him is perfectly matching, she muses, her gaze sliding on him and around. His clothes, his hair, all of him... he is fitting perfectly in the simple and natural scenery.

Whereas, she can still picture Nathaniel's intense presence here, his dark eyes and white tank top contrasting sharply in the plain barn. Actually, he might stand out everywhere he goes because she remembers vividly that even in a fancy ballroom or in a military troop, he has never blended into the backgrounds.

Nathaniel and Fergus are two polar opposites; Nathaniel and she are two polar opposites, while Fergus and she are perfectly matching, easily...

Her gaze lands on him again, now closer than before, as he is leaning in, and the nice and easy thing appears to do it too. Their lips are almost touching in what should be a 'natural' gesture, yet the fluid moment is broken by the strident sound of her phone, and she doesn't even need to look to know who it is.

"Again?!" Fergus groans. "Who is it?"

"Nothing important." She shrugs it off, even though the contrary is resounding with her heartbeats inside, and the ringtone resumes a second time after barely a second of silence to prove the point.

The shrill sound isn't even as loud as her heart, though it is more blatant to Fergus, and under his persistent gaze, she resolves to pull out her phone, making sure to incline the screen away from her future husband.

'Nathaniel', she has been expecting his name, and it only flashes a second on the screen before she turns it off, but it's enough to take her breath away. The notification message of dozen of missed calls and texts is inked in every part of her, and it requires her an incredible effort to just push back the phone in her pocket.

She can't shake the sensation that it feels so wrong to turn down his call, yet like for all his previous calls and texts, she can't; with Fergus around, it would be too many risks, again. They can't keep acting so recklessly. She has to be reasonable.

"It's just my brother annoying me with some stuff..." She forces a smile to dismiss Fergus's questioning stare. "It's... complicated." 

That is the word, and she gulps realizing the truth of it through all her lies. 

Though she isn't ready for Fergus to ask more, and before he can open his mouth, she surprises herself with a flirty look to distract his attention, and maybe also to seek some easiness in all the turmoil happening inside.

"Where were we?"

It works, at least to divert his attention away from her strange behavior as his lips land on hers almost immediately, though, for the rest, it isn't as easy.

His lips are smooth and nice on hers. The kiss is pleasant, and as he dives his tongue through her parted lips, she can sense it growing warmer. Yet it doesn't burn like a fire; it doesn't feel like she would die out of thirst if she leaves his lips. It doesn't feel like Nathaniel, and those observations make her deepen quickly the kiss until she finds herself lying on the straws covering the ground of the barn like she has been not long ago with Nathaniel. 

She almost groans as she is reminded of him through everything, and she grips Fergus's shirt harder like it could bring her back to the present moment.

She is perceiving all the sensations from her body: Fergus's lips sweet and demanding on hers, the warmth of his body brushing hers, the tickles of his hair along her neck, and his firm chest under her fingers. Yet her mind is so far away, lost in a blur of thoughts that are all wrapping around one name: Nathaniel. 

He is like a drug infiltrated through her veins, and she is desperately searching for a substitute to bring her this high as she intensifies the kiss with Fergus. But nothing equals.

She is mad at herself for feeling like this, and soon, she feels like she is going mad, her hands and lips becoming frantic for an answer in all of this.

Fergus is her fiance, her future, and he should be the only one in her mind. Yet no matter how much she tries to focus on him as she lifts up his shirt and trails her lips along his collar bone, his heart racing under her mouth and his shallow breaths aren't overwhelming all her senses, and in spite of the 98%, her body isn't in sync with his.

Through all the 'complicated', the risks, and the impossible, Nathaniel offers her something Fergus can never. This realization appears like a cold shower calming down her frenzy, and it is maybe even an icy shower because her blood is freezing. Whatever 'nice' and 'easy' sensations Fergus has roused in her body, it all turns to ice, and she is left with the iceberg of all her worries, her cool head coming back. 

Nathaniel and she have no future; they barely have a few weeks left. They should never be. She knows it will end, and she fears that it will be worse than what they have expected.

On top of this freezing crash back down to reality, that's the same moment Fergus chooses to slide his hand in her open pants, which she hasn't even realized have been undone, and it echoes the shock of every overwhelming emotion she has felt today like a gong, bringing her fully back to consciousness. 

She immediately pushes his hand away as if it is burning her, though maybe the problem is that it isn't.

"I think we should stop." Her move has been impulsive, too impulsive, like everything before actually, and now, she has to face it as she slowly lifts up her gaze to meet Fergus's.

Her breath gets caught in her tight throat in front of his lust-filled eyes and the darkness she has never seen in the clear hazel shades, and the shivers running down her spine are not out of desire as the weight of his body is hovering over her.

"I... I don't feel ready..." Her voice is wavering as she tries to sit up, but he still doesn't move, and she is reminded once again of who holds the power in the couple with the crippling chills now spreading all over her skin.

"You're the one who's started it." He sighs heavily through his still-ragged pants, yet he pulls away, and she realizes how paralyzed she has been as the relief washing over her turns her muscles into jelly. 

"I know... but don't you think it's better to wait for the wedding?"

She is postponing the issue with all the others piling up inside to this deadline that is only inching closer. But she doesn't have the strength to treat anything at this instant. She doesn't even have the strength to stand as Fergus straightens up, grabbing his tank, yet not offering her his hand, and she stays on the floor, her legs still shaking.

There, she has a clear view on the bulge of his pants, making her widen her eyes and divert them quickly. However, unlike with Nathaniel, she doesn't have this itching curiosity to see it, to feel him. The flash she has got is only twisting all the bile and bad feelings piling up in her stomach, and while she doesn't blink away from the wisps of straw by her feet, her mind is taking off too far.

After all, she is the one who has driven him in this state while she has been using him in her search for sanity, or at least distraction. This is the first time they go this far, and this bulge she doesn't dare to look at is just a glaring reminder that sooner or later they will have to step much farther. Yet just at this idea, her legs are becoming restless with an urge to run back in someone else's arms.

"Um, I should go home... It's getting late, and my parents will start to worry..."

"Yeah," he replies, the simple and sharp syllable making the silence in the barn more deafening.

Even the crickets have shut down, and as she stands up and adjusts her clothes, the slightest rustle of straw under her feet is accentuating the heavy quietness.

"I think it's better this way..." She walks closer to him, her steps hesitant and slow under the tensions in the air and also the weight inside her stomach, and although he is nodding, his doubtful lifted eyebrow and the still dark look it's highlighting are stopping her feet as she adds, "I mean... who have their first time on the floor?"

***

"Ana? Are you here?"

The familiar voice pulls Anastasia out of her thoughts, which still haven't cleared. Nevertheless, she has managed to calm down, and the tempest spinning in her mind has given way to a knot of thoughts she is still trying to untangle. 

Apparently, it will have to wait a little bit more as she refocuses her frown on the one from whom she has inherited those two little lines.

"Um, yeah?" 

"Archie just told us about his day, and now, I was asking you about yours. It's been a while since we haven't shared our interesting facts of the day."

Their typical 'share your interesting fact of the day', it is a kind of tradition during their family meals that she has herself established since she has been little. But it's true that they haven't done it for a while now, approximatively since her 'interesting facts of the day' have become forbidden.

Still stuck somewhere in her thoughts, she turns her head to her little brother across the table, blinking a few times as if she had just landed there in the middle of the dinner, and the only thing that seems to prove the contrary is her empty yogurt pot and the spoon her fingers are playing with.

"Um... There is not much to say..." 

It is the contrary: there has been too much, yet she can't say anything once more.

"She's probably just tired after her long day."

Anastasia glances to her right as her mom gently brushes her back. She can't even imagine how welcomed the soft gesture is, but more than on her sore muscles, it is in her stomach and brain where it loosens the knots, reminding her much simpler times where she has had no other worry than school works to achieve her dreams of defending an idealistic world.

"And it's hard to beat your 'interesting' error discovery of two decimal points down!" Archie lifts up his eyebrows, and apparently, Anastasia is the only one who catches the sarcasm dripping off his words.

It is always relaxing to be home, even if her accountants of parents are boring them with numerals, and as she catches her little brother's sparkling glance, one more muscle loosens up, this time, in her cheeks, where she stifles her smile.

"Two decimal points and a wrong round number," their mom points out. "You should have seen Harriet's face!"

"Yes!" Their dad shakes his head at the memory before coming back with his attentive frown on his daughter again. "Anyway, everyone's fact is interesting."

She can see in his caring hazel eyes that he just wants her to share something with them, and inside, everything is ready to open up in the familiar comfort of the family dinner. She may not be able to let out the most important and dangerous, yet it still springs her confidence to speak up what has been swirling in the back of her mind and on the tip of her tongue. 

"Well... à vrai dire... It's not a fact... but I've thought about a question..."

Her dad nods, encouraging her to continue, though the determined glint in her eyes is proof that she wouldn't stop anyway.

"I was thinking about our grandparents... I mean your parents, since I've never known them..."

He has told her and Fergus a few things about them, but he isn't one to talk much about the past; he prefers numerals and calculations. So apart from some basic facts and their photo hung in the living room, for her, they are still strangers gone too soon.

"If I remember correctly they were married before the Decree 123-51316?"

Her dad straightens up on the last word, the light crease between his eyebrows morphing into deep lines, and she tries to keep her voice just curious and remote, tasting and weighing each word as carefully as if she was standing in a courtroom, while inside, her heart is jumping even more impatiently for answers.

"And I was wondering if they were really different and how they got along?"

"What is that question?!" her dad retorts instantly, freezing her heart in midair, like her open mouth and all of her when his gaze turns severe and sharp as if he was trying to pierce through her soul to find her guilt, and she has to look away.

"I-I just –"

"It's the past. It doesn't matter anymore." He gets up, his chair squeaking on the floor and his merciless tone echoing in the silence that not even a breath is interrupting. "There is nothing to talk about. Now the Decree is there, and we have to follow the law."

He leaves the room before Anastasia can say anything, and she wouldn't be able to anyway. She is speechless and breathless, and her frozen heart is dropping down with any hope to get answers. Instead, it's burning tears that are climbing up behind her lost eyes, yet she fights to keep them inside with everything else. 

This has just been an example of why she shouldn't let anyone see what she is struggling with inside, and it has only tightened the knots from her stomach to her brain and everything in between.

"What... Why is he so angry?" she finally stammers, blinking her eyes between her mom, Archie, and the now-closed door they are both still gaping at.

Her little brother shrugs, not daring to speak in the heavy silence their dad has left behind, and as it is clear that the simple gray paint won't give her a clue, neither will it reopen, she turns to her mom. After all, she is his match, and she knows her husband better than anyone else.

However, her long sigh and the compassionate look following might be even more alarming for Anastasia than her dad's outburst.

"I think he's just worried..."

It's Anastasia's turn to furrow her eyebrows, though she isn't moving an inch.

"Since you've defended the rebels the other day," her mom continues, and if Anastasia hasn't got the time to see it in her dad's eyes, she catches clearly the concern in the green of her mom's.

"I wasn't defending them..." Was she? "I was just pointing at the fact that I'm not more in danger at school than anywhere else." She looks down at her yogurt pot again, although she still senses the weight of her mom's gaze on her.

"You've changed lately, mon ange," her mom replies, pausing with a sigh, while Anastasia's heart stops for a second of silence where everything inside is echoing, everything that hasn't been there not long ago.

"You're different."

So do you agree with her mom? Anastasia is changing? 

And please don't hate me for this steamy moment between Anastasia and Fergus! I had to do it for the Fergus and Anastasia's shippers 😅! No, more seriously, I think it's important for the story and the changes happening in Anastasia 😉

Tell me what you think of this chapter, and vote ⭐ if you liked it despite the cringy make-out 😬

Now, for my little French lesson: A vrai dire = in fact/actually and Mon ange= my angel 🤓

PS: Can we talk about the "I mean... who have their first time on the floor?" 😏 Who? yes, Anastasia, who? 😅😈

LOVE YOU ALL, MY LITTLE RAYS OF SUNSHINE 😘❤