Despite Fiona’s low tone, her words carried effortlessly through the serene stillness surrounding the well, aided by the gentle caress of the cool morning breeze. The sound reached Orion’s ears, prompting him to gracefully rise from his seated position as she swiftly approached.
“As expected, you’re always early,” Orion remarked, lifting his gaze slightly to meet the towering presence of the woman before him.
Meanwhile, Fiona found herself at a loss for words, unsure of how to respond to the unexpected situation. Yet, with Orion patiently awaiting her reply, she nodded in acknowledgement and managed to utter, “You’re early too.” Orion reciprocated the gesture, silently stooping down to retrieve the Kalna fruit from his clay pot before presenting it to her. “Here’s your payment.”
Though a nagging doubt lingered in the depths of Fiona’s mind, suggesting that the young man would persist in troubling her, even after she had admonished him, she only experienced a slight surprise at his early arrival. However, the fact that he chose to act as though yesterday’s events hadn’t occurred left her pondering whether he had chosen to take her words seriously, no longer finding a need for their association, or if he was simply feigning ignorance. Nevertheless, as long as she wasn’t reminded of her imposing lack of attractiveness, she deemed the situation tolerable.
“Alright,” Fiona nodded, her steps gracefully carrying her around Orion. She delicately positioned the kalna fruit at its regular spot by the side of the well before carefully placing the bag she carried at the back. Once in her designated position, ready to harness her gift, she gestured for Orion to bring his clay pot closer. Understanding her unspoken command, he promptly retrieved the pot and approached.
As Fiona activated her gift, tapping into her innate ability to draw water from the very depths of the sand, she anticipated that Orion would call out to her or attempt to capture her attention in some manner. However, to her astonishment, a profound silence enveloped their interaction. Orion remained intent, neither speaking nor making any discernible movement, as if his sole purpose was to patiently await the completion of her task so that he could retrieve his clay pot and depart for home. The absence of his usual banter or attempts at engagement left Fiona puzzled, yet suspicious by his stoic demeanour.
Regardless of the lingering questions in her mind, once Fiona finished filling up Orion’s clay pot, she found herself unable to contain her curiosity any longer. As she observed him attempting to bend down and retrieve the pot, preparing to balance it atop his head, her lips parted with a burning inquiry. “What is it?” she inquired, her gaze wandering across his form before settling on his eyes with an intense focus.
Orion’s brow furrowed, displaying a mix of confusion and curiosity. “What is what?” he questioned; his voice tinged with genuine perplexity. Fiona’s eyes narrowed in response, a flicker of suspicion dancing within them. A multitude of thoughts raced through her mind, intertwining and unravelling until she finally came to a halt. With a resolute exhale, she voiced her observations aloud.
“You’ve remained unusually quiet, hardly uttering a word,” Fiona began, her tone laced with suspicion. “Based on what I’ve observed over the past few days, this is not typical behaviour for you.” Pausing for a moment, she continued, her voice tinged with a mix of intrigue and uncertainty. “So, it’s either that you’re honestly not planning anything, or this quiet demeanour is merely an act.”
Internally, a triumphant smile spread across Orion’s lips, unable to be contained. Originally, he had intended to engage in conversation with Fiona shortly after her arrival. However, upon careful consideration, he decided that maintaining silence would yield a more revealing outcome. Curiosity drove him to observe how she would react to his uncharacteristic quietude. If she failed to call out to him before his departure, he had concocted a plan—a grand ruse involving a staged mishap that would provide the perfect opportunity to disclose his identity as a warrior. Confident in the foolproof nature of his scheme, Orion anticipated that his carefully chosen words would seize Fiona’s attention, compelling her to reassess her perception of him, since she herself was a warrior.
“Weren’t you the one who suggested that we go back to the way our conversation began?” Orion’s voice carried a tinge of confusion, his brow furrowing into a perplexed frown. It seemed as if he couldn’t grasp the sudden question posed by Fiona. His expression hinted at his genuine lack of comprehension, as if her question lay beyond his realm of understanding. 𝓫𝒹ℴ𝓿𝓵.𝓬ℴ𝓶
As Orion’s words hung in the air, Fiona found herself staring at him with wide eyes, momentarily taken aback. His response resonated with an unexpected authenticity that caught her off guard. In the tranquility of her hut later that day, as she sought solace and contemplated the argument she had shared with Orion, Fiona experienced a moment of clarity.
Replaying their interactions in her mind, Fiona acknowledged that Orion was indeed the first person to show genuine curiosity about her gift since she had started working at the well. He approached her with an unquenchable thirst for knowledge, akin to a curious child whose curiosity only grew deeper the more she tried to satisfy it. Lost in her thoughts, Fiona realized that Orion’s words may have held genuine meaning after all.
Yet, despite Fiona’s lingering doubt, she couldn’t shake off the possibility that Orion, a young man, would genuinely perceive her, a towering, curvaceous, and muscular woman, as beautiful without harbouring any ulterior motives. The notion seemed both bewildering and questionable, casting a veil of uncertainty over her thoughts. Uncertain of how to react, she found herself at a loss for words, her lips sealed tightly in contemplation.
Observing Fiona’s struggle to hold back her words, as her eyes roamed his body in an attempt to restrain her thoughts, Orion couldn’t resist going further with the roughly sketched plan. With a theatrical disappointed sigh, he let out an exaggerated expression of frustration. Shaking his head, he pretended to be disheartened as he bent down to retrieve his clay pot once more.
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