A Peculiar Time in 1944 - A Millard Fanfic (Miss Peregrine's Home) #wattys2020

Chapter 7

Aurora spent the following day in a haze, she found herself frequently thinking back to last night as her fingers traced her lips. Her father spent most of the morning telling her to snap out of it and be careful not to burn breakfast. She tried not to get too caught up in her daydreaming but her mind seemed determined to keep all of her thoughts focused on Millard. It wasn't just the kiss that was new, she realized, she now had a better understanding of what he actually would look like.

When she had her fingers in his hair she could tell it was short, cut like any other teenage boy in the forties, and it was soft, she briefly wondered what color it would be blonde? Black? Brunette? Ginger? When she'd cupped his face in her palm his skin was smooth and soft, his jaw line strong and defined. She wanted to touch more of him, to be able to fill in the blank spaces to the picture her mind had created. She turned to the clock on the wall and took a deep sigh, it would probably be hours until she saw him again.

oOo oOo oOo

Millard ended up tapping on her bedroom window just after supper. He helped her off the ledge and onto her feet before taking her hand.

"I found someplace I want to show you."

He led her through town block by block refusing to answer her question.

"Where are we going?" she would ask giggling. His reply was always the same, "You'll see."

Eventually they came to an old abandoned house, Millard led her around the side through a white picket fence covered with ivy. In the backyard was what used to be a garden but since the home's abandonment the flowers had grown and completely overtaken the yard. Everything was in full bloom, the roses, lilies, sunflowers, orchids and tulips; in every color you could imagine, and in the middle of it was a large willow tree with a simple swing tied to one of its branches.

"Millard this is incredible!" she said as she walked through the plants, running her fingertips gently along the colorful petals.

"I'm glad you like it." He said as she pulled the curtain of leaves from the willow apart and sat on the swing, looking around the garden. Millard came up behind her and placed his hands on her hips causing her to gasp in surprise.

"May I?"

"Please."

He began to gently push her back and forth, after a few minutes passed he stopped pushing and wrapped his arms around her waist resting his chin on her shoulder. She wrapped her arms around his and relaxed in his embrace.

"Je n'ai jamais été aussi heureuse." She said and heard him chuckle.

"I still don't know French." She gave a tiny giggle. "Will you teach me?"

She bit her lip as she considered it, "On one condition."

"Mmm?"

"You teach me you're language."

"My language?"

"The one you were telling me about the other day."

"Old peculiar?" she nodded, "I don't know much. It's an old and rare language, I only know a few words."

"So an eye for an eye, a word for a word?"

He chuckled again, "Deal."

He sat next to her on the swing, it was just wide enough for both of them to fit snuggly.

"Alright," he began, "Let's start with something simple, coerlfolc."

"Co-er-l-fol-ck." she repeated doing her best to pronounce it correctly.

"Very good." Millard nodded.

"What does it mean?"

"Common folk. What would it be in French?"

"Gens du commun."

"Jon-du-commah."

She smiled, "You catch on quick."

"So do you, alright try, syndrigast. It translates to peculiar spirit, but it's also a branch of humanity. For example, I am a syndrigast, one of many syndrigasti."

"Syndrigast. Syndrigasti."

"Correct."

"You're a good teacher, Millard."

He looked down at his hands in his lap and she remembered what he had said about wishing he could teach one day if he had been normal.

"Esprit particulier." She translated to French and tried to get his mind off of what never could be.

oOo oOo oOo

They continued back and forth exchanging French and old peculiar, every now and then Aurora would have a question like 'what does ymbryne mean?' and Millard would dive into a full explanation of it's peculiar history. She ended up with a full knowledge of the term ymbryne and a new understanding of just how vastly important they were to peculiardom.

Eventually, Millard ran out of old peculiar words, and Aurora rested her head on his shoulder while his leg pushed the swing back and forth. She listened to his even breathing until his breath hitched and she thought she heard a small sniffle. She looked up and saw wetness along Millard's face.

"Millard are you crying?"

"No." he insisted immediately, "Perhaps it's starting to rain."

"Millard." She urged as her thumb wiped away the tears beneath his eyes.

"Did I say something? Do something?"

"No! Not at all, it's just. . . I. . . I had given up."

"Given up what?"

"I'd given up hope that I'd ever have something like this. Someone like you. It's not much, we mostly just talk, but. . . it means everything to me, you can't begin to understand what that's like."

Aurora couldn't keep the smile off her face, "Tu es la meilleure chose qui m'est jamais arrivé."

"What does that mean?"

"You're the genius. I'm sure you'll figure it out." She said playfully making him chuckle again. Then she pulled his face to hers and they kissed in their hide away in the leaves of the willow tree.

French Translation via google: Je n'ai jamais été aussi heureuse – I've never been so happy

Tue s la meilleure chose qui m'est jamais arrive – You are the best thing that has ever happened to me.