my pronouncement, the smile slowly fading from his face.
“I don’t think you are,” he argued softly, almost sadly. “But you’re right – we’ve got to start somewhere. Let’s go to the park. Do you want to take your car or my bike?” It was then that I really took notice of the leather jacket he was wearing. I fought the sudden surge of panic.
“No – no motorcycles. I’ve never been on one and I’m not supposed to…” I let my feeble objections trail off as he smirked at my reaction. “We could walk,” I suggested, hopefully. It was a warm enough day for November and I was enjoying being outside.
“We could,” he considered, his lips pursing together thoughtfully. “Alright, let’s go.” He started walking as soon as he decided. I had to hurry to catch up.
It took us nearly forty-five minutes to walk from the harbor, past the impressive stone government buildings and the Provincial museum and up to the outskirts of Beacon Hill Park. We walked slowly, at a comfortable, leisurely pace, and even stopped to buy coffees and muffins along the way at a little café. I tried not to scarf my muffin down – it was the first carbohydrate I’d had in nearly a week. I enjoyed it almost as much as the company I was keeping.
Sebastian was, as always, completely interesting, thoroughly enthralling and absolutely confusing and strange. He did most of the talking as we walked, telling me his views on happiness and his philosophy to life. For the most part it seemed he did what he wanted, when he wanted; he listened to his heart, followed his instincts, indulged his desires. He didn’t care about what others thought, only what he thought of himself. It was selfish to some extent but it also seemed to be a strangely satisfying and enjoyable existence. I was happy enough to listen to him chatter away. Sometimes I added my own thoughts and, more often than not, my own objections. He always had an answer though, always explaining his thoughts to me patiently, if not confusingly with an ancient wisdom to his tone. It was nice to discover that though we were very different people, we still shared many values and beliefs. We both had strong morals and spiritual faith even though some details of our beliefs differed. We both valued honesty, creativity and kindness, and we both felt the world was a magical place, full of infinite possibilities. Outwardly, Sebastian was my complete opposite but at our cores, we were the same.
For most of our walk, I found myself just listening to him, allowing his words to wash over me in their smooth, musical pattern as I absorbed the emotion and intensity behind them. Other times I carefully dissected each thought, each sentence, allowing his ideas to really sink in, to reflect upon and question my own life. He gave me a lot to think about. He was obviously very intelligent and seemed to have much more experience and wisdom than his eighteen years had given him. Our conversation was enthralling and his company was just as compelling. I could hardly take my eyes off him as he spoke, becoming lost in studying the smooth contours of his face.
I suddenly realized Sebastian had fallen silent. He was staring back at me now, an amused smile on his face as he caught me admiring him. I looked away in embarrassment. That was when I noticed we had arrived at Beacon Hill Park.
“So we’re here – what now?” I asked, brusquely, still feeling a little embarrassed. He grinned back at me as we walked past the park’s large, carved sign that announced its name and into the quiet and peaceful woods.
“I want to show you something,” he told me quietly, his dark eyes mysterious and amused. The wind began picking up as he spoke, swirling the fallen leaves around us and making the hairs on my arms stand on end. I waited for him to say more, but instead he merely stared at me in silence, a small smile on his face. The wind blew even harder, its intensity increasing with the emotion in
“I don’t think you are,” he argued softly, almost sadly. “But you’re right – we’ve got to start somewhere. Let’s go to the park. Do you want to take your car or my bike?” It was then that I really took notice of the leather jacket he was wearing. I fought the sudden surge of panic.
“No – no motorcycles. I’ve never been on one and I’m not supposed to…” I let my feeble objections trail off as he smirked at my reaction. “We could walk,” I suggested, hopefully. It was a warm enough day for November and I was enjoying being outside.
“We could,” he considered, his lips pursing together thoughtfully. “Alright, let’s go.” He started walking as soon as he decided. I had to hurry to catch up.
It took us nearly forty-five minutes to walk from the harbor, past the impressive stone government buildings and the Provincial museum and up to the outskirts of Beacon Hill Park. We walked slowly, at a comfortable, leisurely pace, and even stopped to buy coffees and muffins along the way at a little café. I tried not to scarf my muffin down – it was the first carbohydrate I’d had in nearly a week. I enjoyed it almost as much as the company I was keeping.
Sebastian was, as always, completely interesting, thoroughly enthralling and absolutely confusing and strange. He did most of the talking as we walked, telling me his views on happiness and his philosophy to life. For the most part it seemed he did what he wanted, when he wanted; he listened to his heart, followed his instincts, indulged his desires. He didn’t care about what others thought, only what he thought of himself. It was selfish to some extent but it also seemed to be a strangely satisfying and enjoyable existence. I was happy enough to listen to him chatter away. Sometimes I added my own thoughts and, more often than not, my own objections. He always had an answer though, always explaining his thoughts to me patiently, if not confusingly with an ancient wisdom to his tone. It was nice to discover that though we were very different people, we still shared many values and beliefs. We both had strong morals and spiritual faith even though some details of our beliefs differed. We both valued honesty, creativity and kindness, and we both felt the world was a magical place, full of infinite possibilities. Outwardly, Sebastian was my complete opposite but at our cores, we were the same.
For most of our walk, I found myself just listening to him, allowing his words to wash over me in their smooth, musical pattern as I absorbed the emotion and intensity behind them. Other times I carefully dissected each thought, each sentence, allowing his ideas to really sink in, to reflect upon and question my own life. He gave me a lot to think about. He was obviously very intelligent and seemed to have much more experience and wisdom than his eighteen years had given him. Our conversation was enthralling and his company was just as compelling. I could hardly take my eyes off him as he spoke, becoming lost in studying the smooth contours of his face.
I suddenly realized Sebastian had fallen silent. He was staring back at me now, an amused smile on his face as he caught me admiring him. I looked away in embarrassment. That was when I noticed we had arrived at Beacon Hill Park.
“So we’re here – what now?” I asked, brusquely, still feeling a little embarrassed. He grinned back at me as we walked past the park’s large, carved sign that announced its name and into the quiet and peaceful woods.
“I want to show you something,” he told me quietly, his dark eyes mysterious and amused. The wind began picking up as he spoke, swirling the fallen leaves around us and making the hairs on my arms stand on end. I waited for him to say more, but instead he merely stared at me in silence, a small smile on his face. The wind blew even harder, its intensity increasing with the emotion in
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