Dandelions 2

If Viktor were to be honest, he did not expect to ever see the girl—Wynn— again. There were many reasons he could list, reasons why she would never return to this quiet outcrop he spent hours and hours of his days. For one, he could not jump and run and climb like the other children, so playing with him was difficult. He was also always busy sorting scraps, working on his little boat or drawing plans for the next thing he wanted to make, and he thought himself boring to be around because of it. What fun was there in sitting beside him, watching him do things that she did not understand? Even if he tried to explain, or tried to include her… well, it never really worked with the other kids. Surely, it would not succeed with her, would it? He would not have blamed her if she found herself growing uninterested in his presence, and even though he knew it would sadden him, he would understand if she did not ever come back. 

And yet. And yet, she had defied his expectations four days in a row. It was now the fifth day, and he found himself sitting in his usual spot, fidgeting with the cloth of his sleeve. He felt strange in these moments before Wynn arrived. Two conflicting emotions in his chest. Excitement and dread. Would she come today? Would she not? Then closely followed by all the reasons she would not come, then all the reasons that she would. In his mind, the former always seemed to outweigh the latter. Glancing around, looking at the pale rock all around him, Viktor tried to think of something else. That’s right, he had wanted to try his hand at making a dragonfly out of scraps. What parts would he need? Could he find light glass for its wings? How small could he make its motor? Would Wynn suggest putting a cannon on it too? The absurd thought caught him off-guard, and he shook his head in an attempt to steer his mind back on course.

“What are you thinking about so fiercely? You’ve got a wrinkled brow. Like a grandpa.”

In that instant, the dread that weighed down his limbs and heart vanished. Viktor could not help the smile that burst on his face as he turned to look at Wynn. There she was, tilting her head with her hands planted on her waist, brow raised questioningly. 

“I was wondering if you would ask me to put a cannon on a dragonfly” his answer produced a confused smile from Wynn as she grabbed the strap of her bag and pulled it off. “A cannon on a dragonfly? Wait, can you do that?” It was a genuine question, and Viktor could not help but laugh at how quickly her face changed from confusion to intrigue. It was strange how he felt when he looked into Wynn’s bright teal eyes. Like perhaps he really could do all the silly things they spoke of. “Maybe, but not on a real dragonfly.” Now that she was here, his brain felt like it could work again. Picking up his boat and bringing out his tools, he set about fixing the paddle wheels, and he couldn’t even remember why in the world he’d think she would be bored. Wynn was always full of stories, questions, silly little quips that he’d return. Up until now, he had worked in solitude and had enjoyed it, but he did not realize just how fun it could be to listen to stories and tell his own while he created things. Ever since he had met Wynn, he had not found himself in that solitary bubble that removed him from the world itself and nestled him in the depths of his mind. Yet he did not think it to be a bad thing. This was a different kind of bubble, one where he did not make things up on his own. One where cannons on dragonflies somehow existed.

“Oh right, before I forget!” Wynn sat up suddenly, then rummaged in the bag she had brought. A book. No, three books. Viktor looked at them, then at her. She pushed them gently into his hands, and he took them, staring at the covers. One was a vibrant red with golden vines swooping and swirling all along the edges, framing a picture of a boy with a tree that extended high into the clouds. The second one was baby blue and decorated with soft drawings of flowers and gentle animals happily dancing down a path. The third one…

Viktor squinted.

” ‘The Fundamentals of Physics?’ ” He questioned, and she beamed. This was the book she really wanted to show him. Settling down beside him, she stuck her nose up proudly and said, “I thought that you’d like this one the best. The other two are my favorite fairy tales. They’ve got all kinds of pictures in it too, but I think—knowing you—you’d love to fall asleep reading this one.” She said, pointing at the simple brown book. Knowing You. Three books that his new friend wanted to show him, things she wanted to share. Tangible proof that she thought of him, thought of the four days they had spent together and imagined what he would enjoy. Viktor turned to her, and he did not know what to say. His chest felt warm, like something bright was growing there. Knowing You. He could only smile, bringing his shoulders up as if he wished to hide himself just a little because even though he felt joy, he felt strangely bashful as well.
“Thank you, Wynn…” he began, unable to contain the smile that spread across his face. “I promise I’ll read them all, and we can talk about them. Ah, like…like the one you liked the most.” He felt awkward, like no words he could string together would tell her what he really wanted to say. I want to know you too. I want to know you just like you know me. How could he say these words to her? No, did he have to? Why did it feel like she somehow knew, even though he felt so clumsy?
She simply smiled at him—she always seemed to smile at him—and said, “You don’t have to, I’d rather you read the ones you like. But if you’d like to know, my favorite is this one.” She pointed at the red book with the boy and the tree, eyes sparkling with joy. “Will you read it and tell me if you liked it?” Viktor nodded immediately, vigorously, and clutched at the book closely. “I will, I promise.” Even though he was yet to open it, he knew that he would love that book greatly. In it lay something he had yearned after for a very long time, something he dreamed and daydreamed of without truly even realizing. Something he thought of every time he saw the other children laugh and play and speak.
Finally, he would know and be known.

Sometimes I wonder if i'm being faithful to what I'd imagined baby Viktor to be. I don't think he's necessarily shy through and through but I imagine he is a little nervous at being approached and someone being so forward with wanting to be friends with him. IDK! I will continue to try though <3