"Sometimes the small pleasures in life are the sweetest."
-Karen Marie Moning-
***
The next few days Raphael managed to keep himself busy with the books he found on their library and the newfound admiration he discovered. He ended up following Clara in secret whenever she sneaked out from the house to play, he would hide behind trees to take glances at her. Sometimes the other girl would accompany her, sometimes she was all by herself. When she was on her study room, he would look at her from the window, almost making himself look like a stalker. But he could not find the courage to talk to her.
It was one day in the middle of his stay he finally bumped into her. That time she was holding a large canvas in her hand. He wanted to just run away when his shoulder hit hers. The canvas fell on the floor and he quickly apologized.
"Pardon, mademoiselle."
"It's okay."
He tried to help her pick up the canvas, taking it in his hand and straightened his back. He was taller than her by four inches then.
"I'll help you carry this." Clara did not reject his offer. He ended up carrying her canvas to the art room. Clara spent the vast majority of her time in the library or the art room. She was quite an artistic girl. She could find herself deeply immersed with her paintings for hours, her art room was painted soft beige with wooden accent all around. It was rather clear the whole place was well thought of.
He was asked to put the canvas on the easel and Clara sat down on the chair in front of it.
"Thank you for your help, would you like to accompany me here while I paint?" Clara asked the question because she had noticed him following her around, she would never tell him that though, it might make him feel guilty about it.
"Sure, I'd love to." He had not had any second thought about it.
The two ended up spending their time together in the art room. Clara had mixed several shades of her oil paints and started painting on the already primed and outlined canvas.
Admittedly she had to take several breaks to straightened her shoulder. Raphael was just sitting beside her watching her moving her brushes across the surface smoothly creating different kinds of three dimensional textures. It was a rather pleasant experience, it was like a therapy for her and a tranquil moment for him. They did talk a bit and Raphael was able to joke around a bit with her, mostly about her painting. It was a painting of a oak tree silhouette during sunset, right under the tree was painted a swing, and a little girl was seen seated on it while a boy was seen kneeling in front of her with a bouquet of flower in his hands
"That looks like you and me doesn't it?" He asked her.
"Maybe." she laughed.
***
Throughout his stay afterward Raphael and Clara has plenty of opportunity to see each other. Although she was still a little bit childish compared to him, he really enjoyed being with her.
Sometimes when walking passed the hallway, Dennis could see his daughter and Raphael together in the library through the glass and he was often seen picking up a book on the higher section of the shelf where she could not reach without a ladder. He would hand it over to her and both would be seated beside each other without exchanging words, yet it was clear that Raphael had stolen a few glances toward her during their reading time.
Some other times, both would be seen in the backyard playing with each other. It was a strange sight considering they were not exactly little children yet they did not seem to care. There was one moment when the wild deer from before came back at another time and this time instead of hiding behind the tree, Raphael was beside Clara and together they got to touch the deer's snout and Clara was able to caress his fur.
It was a magical experience for her, but it was even more magical for Raphael. Both exchanged happy grins at each other when the deer came closer to them in a friendly manner. They ended up playing with it for another five minutes before it ran off into the woods. in short, Raphael had completely forgotten he was a wealthy city boy just a few weeks after his arrival.
Archard had noticed the difference in his son's behavior as well since his stay there, he was a little bit more approachable and brighter. At the time he had no idea what made his son appeared more agreeable, but whatever it was, he was glad it happened.
But like all good things it must came to an end, after a whole month together, it was time for him to go back to Paris. The day before their departure Raphael had met Clara in the art room for the last time, this time she had just finished another painting, it was a painting of the wild deer, she was so fascinated by it she had to make a portrait. Yet unlike the usual happy chattering the air felt a bit gloomy that night. Raphael was sitting on the chair beside Clara like usual. The whole time she tried not to look at his face, she had no idea why, she just did not want to.
Maybe deep inside she knew she felt a pang of sadness, but why? She had always known he would have to go back to Paris sooner or later, there was no preventing that. Perhaps she was just a bit too accustomed to his presence, that days without him would not be as playful and cheery as usual.
"I will go back tomorrow." He spoke lowly.
"I know." She replied shortly.
"But, I promise I will come back here one day." She turned to face him, searching for sincerity on his expression, but she was not the best at reading people.
"Clara, I promise you, one day, I will come back here for you." young Clara did not fully comprehend what he meant. Why would he come back for her?
"You don't have to, because chances are, you will forget about me after you live. I understand. It's okay, I really enjoyed our time here together" There was a brief sense of pain which resonated through his heart from her words. Raphael was speechless for a moment. Yet he ended up grabbing Clara's wrist and wrapped her hands on his own. The brush she was holding fell on the floor, but no one was paying attention to it.
"Clara, I swear, one day, I will marry you. When I come back here, I will take you with me to Paris" at the moment, Clara thought he was joking. Who wouldn't? His words sounded like something which came out of a romance novels Clara used to read when she was younger. Yet his tone was so serious, she wished she could laugh about it, yet she could not somehow, perhaps it was the determined look on his eyes which made her tremble slightly, but whatever it was, he definitely was not joking.
After Raphael left the room, Clara remained in her art room and decided to clear her mind a bit by opening up the window. The night breeze was colder that night, perhaps it was because winter was approaching. Her favorite season, which was fall, had passed by so quickly. She looked above to the sky and could see a few little stars floating around beautifully. Whenever she felt slightly suffocated with life, she would just stare up at the sky and felt like she could breathe again.
After pondering around for fifteen minutes, she decided to sit down or her craft table and pulled out her modeling clay which she had not used in a while. She picked up a bit of the clay and started molding it into a pair of antler head. She placed it near the window for dry it down faster and pulled out her acrylic paint set. At the time she pulled out a roll of silver wire from her shelf and measured it to cut.
It only took thirty minutes for the clay to dry on the temperature, and since it was a smaller and thinner piece she did not have to wait all night before painting it burnt umber at the bottom which gradually became yellow ochre shade at the top. Later on, the piece was attached to the silver wire which was wrapped around a key chain top.
When she was finished, she felt it with her hand. It was quite good for a handmade item. Her talents were definitely proven useful when she needed them. Wrapping it in a black satin pouch, she put it inside a small wooden box which she liked to collect. Just when she was done she heard a knock from the door. It turned out to be her father.
"Clara, why are you still awake this late at night?" Clara moved the box over to the side and turned to face her father.
"Nothing, I just finished something here, I'm heading to my room now, good night, Papa!" she kissed Dennis on the cheek and speed walked to her room. Confused, Dennis sat on the chair and turned his attention to the painting she made, yet his mind was elsewhere.
"Good, now my daughter is keeping secrets from me, it seems I am getting old."
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