First of all, this story is VERY much based on the novel Atonement by Ian McEwan and after reading the book for a second time, I realized how much the characters in the story could relate to Will and Elizabeth. So I decided to do a little tweaking, some character swapping, and time changing (the novel takes place in 1935, my story is more modern, i suppose.)

So here it is, my first story outside of my trilogy! woooo! haha. You know what to do - Read and Enjoy

- InnerSmile

The heat from the ground was creating a haze of blurred waves on the horizon of the drive way as Will Turner leaned against the handle of his shovel and licked his lips, attempting to push the urge for a cold glass of water out of his mind. The burgundy bandanna tied around his head was already drenched with sweat, just like his thin white t-shirt that was now sticking to him all over. As he rested for a moment he tried to recall a time when England had ever had a summer like this. Not having a good rain for a couple of weeks now and a heat that was beginning to become unbearable. It wasn't making his job any easier being a gardener. But Will would never complain or voice his objections aloud. He was very grateful of his job…and especially where his job was, at the Governor's estate. His father, Bill had been the gardener here at the estate for decades until his untimely death when Will was ten years old, so Will's mother, Harriet, who was one of the housekeepers, suggested that her son apprentice with the other gardeners, and used his small pay to take the place of his father's income. However, Governor Swann was fond of the Turner family and took the boy under his wing as a surrogate son, taking him and his own daughter, Elizabeth to football matches, dinner, to movies, and going to school plays and sporting events. Yes, Will knew he was very lucky.

Will couldn't stand it any longer; he had to have something to drink. The pump outside wouldn't do. He glanced at this empty mug at the corner of the house, obscured by the shade and after a moment, resolved himself to lay down his shovel and take a break. The large porch of the front of the home was supported by large columns, in the Greek style, which always impressed and daunted young Will when he was a child. As he walked up the steps he smiled remembering the time when he and Elizabeth tried to climb the fluted pillars in an attempt to twirl Christmas lights higher on the mast. They were always getting into some sort of mischief between their days at school or lazy summer months. All fun and games until a couple of years ago…the games seemed to dwindle then and end abruptly. No more swimming in the pond on the estate, no more horseback riding together, or exploring in the woods, lying on her bedroom balcony and talking till the sun came up, before he climbed down her trellis and back to his home. Will began to realize that people were talking, and her suitors weren't approving of her ardent friendship with another boy. Will became a bit more sensitive to her reluctant declines of his suggestions and requests. Such as the time when he had invited her to his home for his 16 year old birthday dinner, she refused him with an apologetic smile. She had never turned him down on his birthday celebrations before…and instead of them breaking out a few bottles of Guinness, turning on the stereo and having a good times with the rest of his friends, he opened his door the next morning to a package on the doorstep with a simple note: "To Will, From your Friend Liz." …was friend capitalized for a reason? Why had he even noticed that tiny detail…might it not mean anything? That was one of the first times he noticed the change in their relationship. He had always wondered what he had done wrong, or what he should've done differently to make their friendship turn into an acquaintance.

So instead he was polite, even sickeningly so, a few times going far a few times to divert his eyes when she walked in the room, and no longer referring to her as Liz, but instead called her by her proper name, Elizabeth. His hopes were to show her that he wasn't indifferent with her, as she seemed to be with him, but his attempts usually failed miserably. Instead of trying to seem kind, polite, and friendly, he saw in hindsight that he came off a bit awkward and mocking even. Ever since Elizabeth's father, Governor Swann offered to pay for his education at Cambridge, which seemed to cause the already flailing friendship seemed to sprout a long, extending gorge, things got steadily worse – or so it seemed to him. And now that this was their third year at university, and they would occasionally pass each other on the side walk, or see each other from across the dining hall, they ran with different groups of people, and their reason for striking up conversation besides the neutral 'How are you' 'Is your father well?' 'How do you like your classes?' never seemed to be enough. He always felt like he was an obstacle in her way of having a good time, or being herself. And most of all, he wanted Elizabeth to be herself.

Will opened the door to the foyer and began to step in when he noticed the newly mopped and wet floor. He glanced down at his boots and saw how muddy they were, so he sighed, plopped down on the porch, untied and removed his boots. Then he saw his socks – grungy in color with two holes in the right foot and one in the other. How could he let anyone see the state of his socks like this! Will sighed….then decided to take them off as well. Quickly, he stood and grabbed his mug, taking very light steps into the entry way into the house. He took very calculated steps, making sure his bare feet didn't land on a particularly wet spot on the floor, he looked down, and made his steps light, as if play hopscotch. Finally he glanced up, to make sure he didn't bump into the near approaching table and found himself eye to eye with Elizabeth. He stopped, and straightened up and managed a smile. She too ended her stride in midstep, with a book in hand and grinned, before looking down at his feet, then back to his face, and continued on her way passed the living room and up the stairs. Will didn't move as he still heard her footsteps fading, a door opening, closing, and then silence. He sighed and shook his head… "Smooth Will…really smooth."

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Elizabeth's mind was wandering and swirling, unable to concentrate on the book in her hand. Samuel Richardson was so hard to read if your thoughts were perfectly in order and capable of focusing, much less unorganized and restless. There were two fans on in the kitchen, which caused an incessant buzzing sound 24 hours a day, but it was either a constant buzzing or a constant threat of heat stroke from the blazing temperatures outside, and her choice was easy. Slowly she stood up from the table, in the nitch of the kitchen and went to the window, pressing her hand up against the glass. Of course it was scorching hot, but she left her palm on the over heated glass, letting herself feel something, even if it was pain. These past couple of days she was restless and listless, unable to find good employment of her time and feeling that once she did, there was something better she should be doing. She had been like this all day, just idly impatient. Her father's birthday was tomorrow, and he was going to be out of town, so they were having a dinner and giving him his gifts tonight. Having already bought his watch, she was just forced to sit and wait for 7 o'clock to roll around and her father to return home. Elizabeth looked to the right out the window and noticed rrom where she stood she could look down and see Will leaning on his shovel, his arm quickly wiping away the glistening sweat from his forehead. The mere sight of him caused her eyes to narrow…He was another thing that was causing her underlying frustration this summer. They both had been back home from university for almost a month and had barely said two whole sentences to each other. Even when they were in school, the few times they managed to hang out around one another was laced with awkward moments and lingering looks that were never meant to be seen or noticed, however, being around other people always helped during those times, to make sure that the conversation continued. Since they were about 16, things changed for them…Elizabeth got a boyfriend and started spending more time with him. She knew that this would affect Will, but she didn't realize how much. Every time her boyfriend would come over, Will would find an excuse to leave and never stay around and talk with them, he started working longer hours around the estate, which gave him excuses to hardly do anything with her anymore. 'I'm busy', 'I'm too tired', 'not today', 'maybe tomorrow', he would say. Then when they went off to college they're speaking to each other almost came to a halt. She would always attempt to start conversation with him but it ended awkwardly, with either a vague reply from him, or a question from him, and an insufficient answer from her – one he couldn't follow, like once when he asked "What are you doing this weekend?"

She was with two of her roommates and they snickered, she turned back to Will and replied "Tom and some of the other guys are taking us to a match in Chelsea…." After she finished she caught her breath. Remembering what a huge fan he was.

He diverted his gaze and managed to give her a weak smile. Elizabeth could tell he was disappointed. "W-What are you doing?" she said in an attempt to cover.

"Going back home. My mum needs help with a few things around there."

There. He had mentioned his job, and subsequently reminding her that her father was his boss, that he worked at her home. Was he attempting to mock her? Make her feel guilty?

"That's nice." She said shortly, and the conversation was over.

There were many instances like that. Once she met him in between one of their classes while Will was walking with one of his mates. They exchanged hellos and kept on walking. From behind her she could hear his friend's voice ask, "Hey, how do you know her?"

She could feel Will pause. "A uh…A friend…her father employs my mum."

What a reply! She thought to herself, as she involuntarily quickened her pace.

Finally she took her hand from the window and turned away, resolving herself to try and attempting to read again. This would be the third time she had read the same paragraph, yet still didn't comprehend a single sentence

"In his third visit, Bella governed herself by this kind and considerate principle: so that, according to her own account of the matter, the man might have spoken out. – But he was still bashful: he was not able to overcome this unseasonable reverence. So this visit went of as the former…"

She read, and then reread it again; still her mind was not on the material. Elizabeth sighed and stood, keeping the book open on her page, hoping that once she got away from the persistent buzzing and the knowledge of Will just outside her window, she would concentrate better in her room. However, her thoughts were again disrupted by what she saw out of the corner of her eye, just before reaching the stairs. There was Will, tiptoeing across the foyer, as he looked up, she saw that he was surprised to see her, and it was this expression that he held until a small smile spread across his face.

She smiled back.

Then she surveyed the floor and noted he was barefoot and in the process of what looked like sneaking through her home. Why did he feel he had to sneak anywhere? And what was the purpose of taking his shoes off? Showing reverence? The nerve! The absolute nerve!

She turned away from his gaze and continued up the stairs….'What had gotten into him?'