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2. Henotia

I winced as a small needle went through the thin skin of my neck.

“It wouldn’t poke you if you could stand still for a moment.”

I looked straight ahead in the tall mirror we brought out of the boudoir next to the old woman’s bedroom. My arms were stretched out, up in the air waiting for Merille’s friend to take my measurements.

It turned out all the clothes Merille had dug out of her storage were too big for me, with the exception of a long tee I had turned into a dress. A few pants and coats that looked fancy and precious looked ridiculous on me; but had given us a good laugh when I had tried them on the night before. She also had a few boxes with slimmer dresses and sweaters and the tailor here today had proposed to fix them up to fit me.

Every now and then Merille poked her head back in the master bedroom where we were and asked if things were going smoothly. When I was trying something on, I wasn’t allowed to move too much or turn to face the door, so I just nodded in excitement.

The man was focused and working hard, I could tell. Sometimes he took the measurements twice, asking me what felt comfortable or too tight. Merille had introduced him as an old friend that lived closeby, next to the city. When he arrived this morning, he greeted me with a smile, saying his name was Primose.

“Merille told me you live close to the city? Is it far away?” I asked, bending my neck just enough to lay my eyes on him without stabbing myself.

“I do! I share a house with my brother, close enough to the capital that we can see it in the distance from our window” His voice was calm and low. He didn’t look anything like the men I saw in passing in the Orphanage. His hands were steady, and every time he picked a needle from the little cushion tied to his vest, he pinned with precision.

“I’ve never been in a big city really. I’ll ask Merille to visit you one day!”

“I’d love that of course, maybe when you have more to wear” He concluded with a smile in my direction.

Primrose's face was kind and angular. His jaw was lined with a rusty bushy beard and his eyes were amber. During his interactions with Merille, I could tell that they had been friendly for a long time. They were comfortable with each other.

“Do you usually wear pants, or skirts?” He asked me as he walked to his satchel full of tools.

“I’ve never really had dresses so… I don’t think they’d be very comfortable.” I looked down at the big tee I was wearing, I didn’t really like how exposed my legs were.

“Fair enough. Do you spend more time inside, or out?” After putting down the ruler and notepad he was holding, he turned to me and rested his hands on his side.

“Hm,” I hesitated. “Outside.”

“Perfect! I have a few bolts that I think would make some great pants for you” He started, unpinning his pincushion from his lapel.

“I don’t really have a lot of money, or at all really.”

“You can rest now, I have everything I need” He smiled at me again, playfully this time. I let my arm fall on my side and he stepped forward to help me climb down the chest I was standing on. “Don’t worry about anything like this, focus on getting better for now.”

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I nodded, grateful for meeting another kind adult. I jogged and exited the master bedroom to check on Merille. She was making noise in the closet at the end of the hallway.

“What are you doing? Still looking for clothes?” I asked as I joined her in the small room. She was bent over a box larger than me, seemingly rummaging through items.

“You guys’re done?” Without acknowledging my question, she wiped the back of her hand on her forehead.

“We’re looking good. Give me a day or two and I’ll ship what I made for Florian.” Primose appeared behind me shortly after, and stood in the doorway holding his bag proudly. “I already have so many ideas, it’s a pleasure to create for such a youthful bundle”

“Thank you so much, I really appreciate you’re doing this. Let’s get something to drink downstairs.”

Merille passed me and led the man downstairs, but before I followed them, I looked back at the room I was in. At a second glance, it was much bigger than a closet, even with all the boxes still inside. There was a dirty window on the opposite side of the door and it seemed like it went on a little bit further behind the boxes and crates. While Primose and I were in the master, she had been moving and cleaning this area consistently, presumably after finding the old clothes.

Without giving it another thought, I followed them downstairs as they continued to talk. We made our way to the living room where a big couch and two seats of the same set were waiting for us. With a familiarity probably born from habit, Primose sat on the couch and crossed his legs, resting his ankle on the opposite knee. I sat in one of the seats facing the window, my legs barely touching the tiles on the floor.

“It matches your hair!”

I looked up at the man in front of me and once again at the seat I was sitting on. The fabric they were made of was a warm and heavy corduroy, of an old and worn emerald.

“It’s just a little darker” I replied, pinching a piece of hair in front of my eyes.

In many cases I had blamed the sun, shades and reflections bouncing off blond locks, but in reality, my hair was lime green and there was no way around that.

“Is it natural? It’s absolutely beautiful,” he continued.

Merille came back holding a tray and the smell of coffee embalmed the living room.

“Isn’t it? It’s the color of your soul believe it or not!” She added while setting the heavy tray a table in the middle.

“What do you mean by that?” I asked, taking the opportunity to learn more about this. “You said something like this before.”

“Well,” She started “The night I took you in? That's how I found you.” She set on the table three cups and a big press full of coffee.

“You never told me what color my soul is…” Primose interjected jokingly.

“You can see souls?” I continued.

“Well,” Merille explained while filling the first two almost to the brim “I’ve never seen you close to death, Prim. And to answer you, Florian, yes I can. You can call it my specialty”

“Fair,” The man concluded.

“I feel like you’re both pulling a joke on me” I finished, sitting further in the comfortable seat.

Before replying, Merille pushed the third cup closer to me and poured a lick of the brown mixture in. As it reached the top, it revealed a light, diluted color.

“I will never lie to you” She let out echoing her previous vow.

Primose took a sip off his cup as Merille sat in the second seat to my left side, suddenly the tone felt ceremonious and heavy.

“It looks like you ladies have a lot to talk about. But considering that little Florian here comes from… far away, it’s understandable.”

“There’s no rush”

“Oh, I wanted to ask you,” Primose jumped back, “I would need another batch for this month, I’m running low and my hands aren’t as steady as they used to, without your herbs.”

“Yes! I have a pouch ready in the kitchen. I knew it was time” She smiled.

They continued to talk without me, about anecdotes and stories I didn’t know about. I reached for the cup and grabbed it with both hands. It was small and dainty, completely different from the imperfect ones we drank from the night before. I looked at Merille and Primose again, trying to discern their expression. There was a peaceful fresh aura between the two. I had never experienced adults like that; warm and carefree while still seemingly carrying the weight of their lives and experiences proudly on their shoulders. If I could have chosen a family to be born in, I would have picked it just like that, most definitely.

I looked down and guessed what was in the warm cup, it smelled of coffee but was softer, probably cut with milk. I dipped my lips in the liquid and it comforted me as I drank. It felt like a hug in the middle of the night.

It was my first time trying coffee; I knew what it was but I had only smelled it in Mother’s office, an ephemeral place that seemed like a dream already.