The New Ways [Closed; Jac]

[Nona Constantine]

Note: Any quoted text in this post which appears italicised has been spoken in French. I suck at it and am too impatient to translate it, and I’m sure you would be too!
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The sun had started to set over the rolling hills as the old, rattling bus struggled down the country road from the bustling city of Marseille to the tiny village of Sanglignée. The velvety pink and orange glow of the sky turned the verdant fields and thick forest in the distance a vivid emerald shade.

Nona Byrne slouched lower in the reclining window seat on the bus, folding her arms under her chest as though holding herself together. Nerves of excitement plagued her body. She was going home. It was a journey she hadn’t planned on making for a while longer, but her heart and her feet were working against her and three days ago she found herself handing over the last of her cash for a one-way ticket from Moscow, Russia, to Marseille, France.

Leaving was easy. She had never felt completely at home in any of the places she visited and Moscow was no different. She had liked the food and a few of the people she met on the way, but nothing was holding her in the huge, beautiful, busy city. She had stayed there a week before the idea of going back to San crept into her thoughts, and she wasn’t exactly sure at what point the idea turned into a definite decision.

The fact that she hadn’t really thought it through completely made her nervous. What if she came back and no one was there that she knew? What if her brother had taken off and hadn’t told her; where was she going to stay? She hadn’t told anyone she was coming back. She hadn’t had the time to at first but with the passing hours as she sat on the train that first day, she toyed with the idea of not giving Keiran a bit of a warning. Everyone loved surprises, right?


It took just twenty minutes for the bus to pull into Sanglignée Square and the driver flicked the lights on in the ceiling. Nona was already on her feet, hauling her bag from the compartment overhead and trying not get in anyone else’s way. It took her a few seconds to realise she was the only one getting off the bus. With a nervous smile she thanked the driver and climbed down the perilous looking steps to the pavement.

As soon as the bottom of her shoe touched the ground it was like a firework exploded in her stomach. Relief coursed through her and exhilaration bubbled in her veins. It had been almost a year since she had set foot in the sleepy village. She had seen her brother since then, of course, but it was when he came out to see her and not because she had come back. For most of that year she had spent in Paris, doing to one thing she had set out not to do; staying put.

As the bus pulled away from the pavement the entirety of the square revealed itself. Bathed in the slowly fading light of the late evening, Nona quickly realised that nothing about the place had changed. It brought a smile to her lips. Everything was the same as it had been before. The little shops, the Hall, Cafe Beau, The Sticks...

Le Fleuriste.

The painted lettering above the old, glass-panelled door made Nona stop in her tracks. The flower shop. The only one in San village. She looked across the square at the Sticks and her breathing turned shallow in her chest. Some part of her had forgotten that it wasn’t just her brother she had to visit in the small village. It had been months since she had seen or heard from the girl she considered her best friend.

Jac had found her in Paris, a month or so after her arrival. The slim, blonde woman had been working at a bar Nona happened to stop in, and much like her trip to San she hadn’t planned to stay in the bar until closing time. She hadn’t expected anyone to take notice of her, especially when she had a few drinks down her throat, but one Jacqueline Prideux did exactly that. It was the start of a very strange, almost backwards relationship. It began with Nona moving in with Jac and her cousins, and ended with a tearful goodbye as Nona let go of the girl she most definitely loved.

That swelling ache she hadn’t felt since Jac left her seven months ago threatened to fill her chest again, but she beat it down. That was then, and this was a new start, a new-old town, and Nona had some making up to do.

Chewing on the inside of her cheek, she watched The Sticks for a long moment. Artificial light poured out of the dusty windows and she could have sworn she could hear music of some sort tainting the stifling evening air. Keiran didn’t know she was coming... so he wouldn’t even mind that she didn’t go to him first.

Mind made up, Nona hauled the strap up over her head and across her body and took off at a trot towards the florist. Her heart pounded in her chest as she reached the door and peered through the glass. Immediately she spotted her, fair hair framing her narrow featured face. Barely containing her excitement and hiding it behind a carefully guarded smile, Nona straightened her jacket, tightened her ponytail, and pushed the door open.

A bell chime made her jump and she fully expected Jac to look up from the bulky computer screen her spectacle-shielded eyes were poring over, but the girl didn’t budge. Nona stood there in the middle of the shop floor and tugged the strap of her bag. She wanted to disturb her. She wanted to climb across the counter and wrap herself around her. But there was something peaceful about the way Jac’s eyebrows pressed together in concentration that Nona found beautifully uninterruptable.

So instead she turned and veered off to the wall laden with baskets and vases of flowers. Her fingers glanced across the petals and buds of those nearest, but her eyes stayed focused on the blonde head behind the counter. She smiled, for a moment loving the idea of being so close to her and she didn’t even know.

Eventually impatience got the better of her and Nona plucked a long-stemmed orange zinnia from a bunch of its clones, and carried it carefully towards the counter.

“Excuses moi, madam,” she uttered politely quiet, pressing the flower to her nose and hiding her smile. “Can I borrow this? I'll give it back.”

[Jacqueline Prideux]

Author's Note: Pretend my post is in beautiful French, especially when Jacqueline speaks, instead of the crappy English you're actually getting. This is my way of telling you she's speaking French without having to write it every time she opens her mouth. Carry on.

Thursday nights never held any particular meaning; it was just like any other day of the week working in the flower shop. Jacqueline would input orders into a computer that was at least a decade old, and then she would clean up the back room and take all the excess trimmings to the dumpster. After that she would sweep the front room and make sure all the flowers were arranged nicely. Lastly, take the money from the till and put it - along with that day’s receipts - into a small safe so the next morning she could take them to the bank. It sounded like a lot more to do than there really was considering she could take her time and stay as long as she wanted.

Currently the young woman was sitting on a stool behind the counter, her feet resting on the top rung and a pile of written order forms stacked on top of her lap. She sighed audibly and instead of staying a sigh it turned into a low growl of frustration. The one thing Jacqueline hated about working in the store was the computer. Not because it was slow, not because she typed slower than a Tyrannosaurus Rex. But because it was technology. The most technologically advanced thing Jac owned was a Polaroid camera. This thing, on the other hand, was completely useless in her opinion. The only reason she didn’t throw it out was because her family had put all of the orders in there from however long ago they could find. If she destroyed the computer, she’d be destroying all of their records. Well, they had backups anyway… right?

Jacqueline pushed her glasses up her nose and furrowed her brow slightly as she tried to read the words on the screen, some kind of error had popped up. She ran a hand through her hair just before resting her chin in her palm and placing her elbow on her knee. She looked down at the stack of forms on her lap for a brief moment before looking back up at the screen, for some reason thinking maybe they could help. When the bell chimed marking the entrance of a customer, the woman didn’t break from her concentration. She had long since discovered that there were two types of customers in the florist world. Those who liked to browse about a bit and those who knew exactly what they wanted. The first were likely to smell the flowers and look around, only half the time coming up to the counter. The second came straight away and would get your attention. Either way, she only ever looked up when someone was standing next to the counter anymore, especially in the evenings.

She moved her face slightly closer to the screen, her free hand going to the mouse and moving to click ‘okay’ or ‘ignore’ or whatever it was. As long as the thing didn’t shut itself down on her she would be fine. Another message flashed up on the screen just as she heard an ‘excuses moi, madam’ and her attention turned rather sharply to the intruder. The face seemed all too familiar and it took her a few seconds to process who was actually standing before her. Her mouth dropped open just slightly and her eyes widened a bit as well before her lips curved into a smile. Jac took the forms that had been sitting in her lap and shoved them onto the counter before hopping off the stool and walking around to where Nona stood.

Before she could really even think to do anything else, Jacqueline had wrapped her right arm around the other girl’s lower back, her left hand lifting up to wrap around the back of Nona’s neck and thread her fingers through her hair. Then she was kissing her. Jac turned them and leaned Nona back up against the counter and continued for a long moment before she heard the distinct sound of the front door’s bell. She broke contact only to press her forehead against Nona’s, her eyes still closed. “We’re closed, go away,” she said, loud enough for the person to hear, but not to yell in the face of the woman she hadn’t seen in months.

Jac inhaled deeply though her nose and let her smile widen slowly into a grin before she tilted her face back to place one more kiss on Nona’s lips. For some reason it didn’t occur to her that it had been seven months since they had seen each other. What if Nona was seeing someone else, what if she didn’t want to be assaulted the moment they said their hello’s. Actually, before they had even really said their hello’s. Not that it really mattered, too late now. Jacqueline looked at the other woman, still not being able to calm her smile. “What are you doing here? It’s been forever. Weren’t you in Russia?” she asked.

[Nona Constantine]

Jac’s face when she noticed who was in the shop was perfect. Nona couldn’t have planned it better. She beamed at the blonde woman and watched with intense interest as her face blended from one expression into another; confusion, shock and then happiness. Jac’s huge grin brought the lightest of laughs to Nona’s breath and she took half a step backwards, clutched her flower in her right hand and she dropped her arms to her side as Jac hopped up from her stool. Excitement buzzed through her faster than it had been before and Nona rolled onto the balls of her feet before taking a lunging step towards her friend as she rounded the counter.

She intended to hug her, nothing more. But ever since the day she met her, Jac surprised her and Nona always went with it. The older woman always had some sort of influence even on a subconscious level and almost every time Nona had thought out a situation, Jac would take it one step further. It was something Nona admired in her. Whether or not they would have become friends if it wasn’t for Jac’s initiative could be debated, but Nona knew for certain that it if it wasn’t for Jac actually doing something about it in the first place, they probably wouldn’t have been lovers.

Nona hadn’t the chance to deliver the hug she had meant to and found herself closing her eyes the moment Jac’s fingers threaded through her hair. Her left hand clutched Jac’s shirt at her side, pinned there by the arm that wrapped around Nona’s back. Her right arm, still holding the flower, draped loosely around the other woman’s waist. It had always been like that; so easy for them to fit together. Like one of those wooden puzzles that if the pieces were placed together at just the right angle they simply fell into place.

The flower fell to the floor as soon as Jac pushed her back up against the counter and the kiss, which had a smile on Nona’s lips even as they pressed against Jac’s, deepened. With both hands now resting heavily on Jac’s hips she pulled her solidly against her. She wanted to be as close to her as possible – closer still if it was possible – and in the back of her mind she wondered how it had been possible to say no when Jac asked her to stay with her all those months ago.

Air rushed into Nona’s lungs the moment their kiss parted and her smile crept back onto her lips. Jac’s kisses always tasted sweet. The door chime that had forced them to stop tinkled into silence and Nona moved her head an inch so she could squint past Jac’s ear with one eye to see who it was. She didn’t recognise the elderly man who gaped open-mouthed at them and adjusted the glasses that rested on the bridge of his nose. He looked like he was about to have a heart attack as he puffed and fumbled his way back out of the shop again. Nona watched him go with a devilish smile turning up the corners of her lips, and her gaze was still focused on the door when Jac kissed her briefly again. Nona’s eyes snapped back to Jac’s and she couldn’t help but grin.

“I was in Russia,” she answered, her broken Irish accent sounding odd as she answered Jac in her own language. “But it felt like it was time to come back home again. I missed you!” She ended on a squeak, bouncing gently between Jac and the counter before biting down on her bottom lip. Her eyes darted quickly over the delicately pale skin of her face as though trying to soak in every detail of her features as fast as she could without missing a single one. She hadn’t forgotten any of them over the months, which was no surprise. Jac’s face was the one Nona looked at more than any other when they were in Paris. She knew her face better than her own.

Lifting one hand she rested her palm so gently on Jac’s cheek, letting her fingertips touch the soft, fair hair that hung loose before running her fingers softly down through it to the ends. “Your hair is getting long,” she mused, “and your skins getting a bit darker. I’m surprised you haven’t burned down here.” She looked into Jac’s crystalline eyes and grinned so wide that the corners of her eyes wrinkled. Placing both hands either side of Jac’s face then, she widened her eyes and let flow all of the questions that had been building up since the moment she walked through the door.

“How have you been? How’s your family? What have you been up to? Have you seen Keiran? Is he OK? How’s the shop? Have you been busy? Has anything changed?”