Yes, absolutely. There was a swelling in his chest, as if his heart was reacting to something good that was happening – finally happening – ( was that pride in himself? ) but it could have been just an intake of breath. He found himself breathing deeper when he was outside; it was old women’s knowledge that the forest air did one good, but he never believed it until he was surrounded indefinitely by it. That takes courage. He was just planting. Not even then, he was just trying it out. The words could easily be translated to something almost paternalistic, something to say just to get it over with, but he felt that someone like Laila always intended the best with what she said.
By and large, it was nothing compared to what she was doing right now. He’d wanted to return the favour, to have her feel as ( God forbid ) happy as he was right now, but from seeing the redness of her face he wasn’t sure if he had caused happiness or embarrassment. Whatever the case, he lowered his head, breaking his gaze from her and looking back at the plant in his hands.
“You shouldn’t compare yourself to the other people here,” was the first thing he said. Comparison wasn’t something he had experience in, having his own sort of confidence in himself, and he wasn’t at all sure what he could say, but he felt that it needed to be said. “Everyone is…interesting, in their own way. What you’ve done is more,” he smiled at her, lifting the pot between them. Exhibit A.
"Our own kind of secret garden,“ he echoed, smiling wider at the thought. Looking around them, it was hardly a secret. He could feel the energy of people buzzing about, someone walking behind him, trying to step around them. But the way she said it made him want to believe that, maybe, he could keep a secret here. He could keep it with Laila. "I like the sound of that.” Exhibit B.
Young placed the pot back on the ground, not noticing her quick movements ( he wouldn’t know what to think of them anyway; maybe there was a bee? ) “Effortless? No, I’m just used to it. I wore a tie for my school back in –” he paused, pursing his lips. “South Korea.” The last two words were the exact opposite of effortless. How could he have slipped in an anecdote like that so lightly? “Shall we work on your tie first? I can show you,” he tugged on his own tie, “or I can do yours for you,” he pointed at her.
For some, it was simpler to keep their thoughts tucked into briefcases and shelved until further notice. Alas, for Laila, it was not as such. She spoke what came to her head, unless it would let her get into a lot of trouble -- and even then, she did not understand when to curb it into quiet. What she did know not to say outright were things like this place is strange, I can blow up the lake from the bottom if I want to, and I want to go home ( although that last one could be said in quiet tears, knuckles brushing to cheeks, silence taking hold of their bedrooms at night. ) But if her thoughtless-thoughtful words could reach someone, well, then she had done something after all - something that no one could squelch.
And it seemed Young could do the same with his own. Even though he was a man of few words, certainly MUCH fewer than she herself, when he did say something, it was -- difficult to describe, what its effects were. Some might not bother with such little things, but Laila took all words and placed them to her beating heart, reminding them of their value as treasures. It might be her power, or her personality - but she understood the influence of words too keenly. And she liked what his said behind their ringing.
“I know,” she allowed, sighing. And she did know. You shouldn’t compare yourself. And then the lacking-discreetness appeared again. “But it is very difficult, especially when some of them seem rather -- determined to remind you themselves. And in school - not here, not in this kind of school, but, you know, regular school - that is how we all managed to get ahead of each other: by resulting to comparing and competing. It is hard to not retreat into that here as well.”
( For some, it was easier to be closed books - but she couldn’t bear it herself. )
But she did smile when he gestured with the pot. If he believed she did more, then perhaps she could wrap her head around it, think of it as more instead of less. All it took sometimes was just the thoughtfulness of a single person to change someone’s mind. “Well - perhaps in our secret garden, I will believe you. I will believe that I have done more today.” Our. Although it was customary to share things only with oneself, in this instance, it was quite nice to share it with someone else. These kind of experiences could not be treasured individually. “Although I have to say, I am glad you are here and that we could have this together.”
Of course she did not have to say it. She did not ever have to say much of anything. But if the things remained unsaid, then people would never know - and that simply wouldn’t do. “South Korea? Wow. We are both far from home - I guess, since I do not know where this place is at all. So then your school had uniforms? We did as well, in a sense, although the uniforms in Mumbai are probably different. I still am unused to these.” She tugged at the collar, and then the skirt, and fidgeted uncomfortably. “Show me first - please. And if I still cannot get it, which I promise already will be what happens, then you can do it for me.”
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