A Flutter of the Heart

They spent the entire morning admiring treasures from around the world in the Glenvaria Hotel's collection hall.

Whether it was famous paintings, jewelry, or even porcelain from the East, Henry could offer a concise introduction to each. It was impressive how broad his knowledge was, and clear that he had done his homework beforehand.

Whether it was the knowledge he casually revealed in conversation or the gentlemanly way he was constantly attentive to Irene's mood, Henry was an exceptionally well-mannered young man who had clearly been raised with great care.

Irene had never had anyone like him in her life—not in either of her lifetimes.

At noon, Henry invited Irene to lunch at a seaside restaurant he had booked in advance.

The entire restaurant was like a glass palace floating above the sea. Waves rippled softly beneath the terrace that stretched out over the water. Gentle lights beneath the glass floor illuminated the seawater below and made the walkway look even more exquisite.

A waiter silently led them to a table by the window, where the view was superb. They could see the outline of a distant island framed by the open sky, and at sunset, it would be twice as beautiful.

"This place is incredible," Irene said softly, her gaze still lingering on the shifting scenery below.

Henry pulled out her chair. His movements were so smooth and natural that it was clearly second nature to him. "I was just as amazed the first time I came here," he said with a smile as he sat down. "It feels like you're dining at the edge of the world."

He didn't immediately recommend any dishes, but first told her about the restaurant's specialties.

"The octopuses here are very clever. The fishermen have to catch them with specially made clay pots, so the meat is especially firm and sweet." As he spoke, he looked at her openly, sharing his delight.

When the charcoal-grilled octopus arrived as an appetizer, Henry naturally nudged his plate a little closer to Irene so she could try some.

When Irene seemed a little uncertain about the wine list, he gently suggested, "If you like crisp white wine, today's island Sauvignon Blanc might be a good choice. It has a hint of minerality, like the sea breeze."

He seemed to devote all his attention to her, noticing when she needed more water and which dishes made her eyes light up, and quietly taking note.

Between courses, he also told her stories about the pirates and treasures said to be found in these lands, so the wait wouldn't feel too dull. They suddenly reminded Irene of the movie Pirates of the Caribbean.

Pirates of the Caribbean 1 had come out during the summer of 2003. It was only 1999 now, so if she wanted to make it, she wouldn't be stepping on anyone's toes.

But the script and concept would be easy enough to handle. The difficult part was that the film would cost at least a hundred million to make. She didn't have the capital to secure an investment that large yet. Then there was the notoriously difficult Johnny Depp, whom she wasn't in a position to win over.

"Irene, is my story too dull? You've been lost in thought for a while." Henry's cautious concern interrupted her train of thought.

Irene shook her head gently. "I just thought of something all of a sudden. It's nothing. Your stories are all so fascinating. I really like them."

"Do you know," he said, his voice even gentler than the sea breeze, "that compared to antiques that are hundreds of years old, sharing this view with you right now feels more like a miracle worth treasuring."

At that moment, the water beneath the glass floor rippled, just like the heartstrings Irene felt him gently plucking.

After lunch, it felt as though their relationship had grown closer.

Neither of them knew who had made the first move, but they began strolling hand in hand along the beach.

For a while, neither of them said a word. Just feeling the warmth of the other's hand was enough to make them lose themselves in the moment.

Suddenly, a volleyball flew toward Irene's head. Henry immediately wrapped one arm around her and swatted the ball away with the other.

A young man and woman came running over from the right, apologizing hurriedly. "We're so sorry! Are you hurt? One of our friends threw it too hard."

Irene straightened up from Henry's embrace and lightly patted his arm to show him she was fine. "You should still be careful. There are lots of little kids around here. You don't want to hit one by accident."

"We'll definitely be more careful next time. You two look about our age. Want to join our volleyball game?" one of them asked boldly. The handsome guy in the blue shirt looked like a natural athlete.

Henry didn't say anything. He simply looked at Irene, leaving the decision entirely up to her.

Irene glanced at her dress and smiled as she declined. "No, thanks. I'm not dressed for it." Then she turned to Henry. "Do you want to play? I can cheer you on from the sidelines."

"No. I want to stay with you." How could Henry leave Irene to play with a bunch of strangers he'd never met? He wasn't crazy.

"All right." Seeing that Henry wasn't interested, Irene ignored the other two as they tried to persuade them and led Henry straight away.

They spent the whole afternoon on the beach, sometimes building a sandcastle, sometimes collecting shells, sometimes feeling the waves wash over their feet. It was as though time itself had slowed down.

As the sun began to set, they returned to the main pier.

After Irene said goodbye to Henry and was about to board the yacht that had come to pick her up, Henry suddenly pulled her back with one hand.

"Tomorrow at ten, right here. I'll teach you to surf." When Irene didn't answer, Henry grew anxious. "If you don't like surfing, we can do something else. The water park here is really famous. I'm sure..."

"Okay."

Henry's words were cut off. He seemed a little slow to react and simply stared at Irene.

"Pfft." Irene couldn't help laughing. "I'm really looking forward to Coach Henry's surfing lesson tomorrow. Anything else I should know?"

"N-no, that's all." He said he had nothing else to add, but still hadn't let go of her hand.

Irene rose onto her tiptoes, placed both hands on Henry's shoulders, and brushed her lips against his for the briefest moment.

"So, is this what you were waiting for?"

Before she could tease him any further, Henry was like a beast unleashed. He wrapped one arm around her waist, cupped the back of her neck with the other, and kissed her deeply.

Irene could even hear the onlookers around them go, "Wow!"

Noticing Irene wasn't fully focused on him, Henry lightly brushed the tip of her tongue with his. At once, Irene stopped caring what anyone else thought.

The kiss lasted three minutes before Henry finally let her go.

Irene saw that his ears were so red they looked ready to drip blood, while he wore an expression of forced composure.

She touched his cheek and whispered, "I'll miss you. See you tomorrow."

No matter how reluctant he was, Henry knew it was time to let her go. He could only bid her goodbye unwillingly.

Irene boarded without hesitation and signaled the driver to set off. Even when the boat was dozens of meters away, she could still see Henry standing on the pier, watching her leave.

Touching her still-pounding heart, she had to admit that, for the first time in either of her lifetimes, she had truly felt her heart flutter.

She didn't dislike the feeling at all.