PARADOX

Chapter Eight • Lashing Out

Twelve years passed. Roger had not said a word to the child, only watched as she became the governess once again. He remembered this part. The waiting. He barely saw her up close; she wanted nothing to do with him. As far as she was concerned, he was only there for service. Companionship was not part of the bargain- she had better things to do than befriend some lowly janitor.

    Before, it had taken ages for her to warm up to him. This time, though, he remembered what they'd had, and the knowledge only made it more painful. He began to wonder if she would ever acknowledge him at all. Of course, his time would come far sooner than he would expect. That night, he heard a knocking at the door of his room.

"Come in."

The door opened with a hesitant creak, followed by light footsteps. The visitor did not need to say anything -- he knew who it was.

"What brings you here at this hour, Governess?"

"My apologies. I know it's late," she said. "I couldn't sleep, and no one else seems to be awake. I saw the light on."

"I see." Truth be told, he'd forgotten the light was on in the first place -- but he was grateful for it.

The woman eyed the bottles on the little wooden table, perhaps a little suspiciously. "What are those for?"

"Pardon?"

"The bottles. On the table."

"...I'm not quite sure," he admitted. "I don't recall ever putting them there, but--"

"You can't be bothered to put them back?" She guessed with a smile.

"That sounds about right."

"Figured as much." She picked up one of the glass bottles and found that it had been long empty. Makes sense, I suppose. "Your room is rather small..."

"It's all the space I need," he answered simply.

She reached for a book on the shelves, shaking loose quite a bit of dust. After skimming the first few pages, she put it back where it belonged.

"If I'd have known you were coming, I would've cleaned up a bit in here," he said with a chuckle. "Gets rather dusty on the higher shelves."

"Oh, don't worry," she reassured. "I don't mind it. A bit of dust never hurt anyone, now did it?"

"I suppose you're right," he answered. "Especially if you can't see it."

To his relief, the governess chuckled. "I think it would bother me more if I couldn't see it," she admitted. "I would never know if I'd cleaned it all."

The pair stood in silence for a few moments. Tell her, Roger's mind echoed.

"I—" he began.

"Yes?"

No. Not yet. "Just- I wanted to thank you for visiting," he lied. "I know I'm not exactly the type that your kind prefer to talk to."

"Status isn't everything, you know," the Governess said, sounding a tad hurt. Then, out of nowhere, her tone became sharp and defensive. "Besides, you're not exactly what most would call approachable."

"Now, wait just a moment-!" Roger's heart pounded in alarm. "That isn't what I meant by that, please understand-"

"Oh, believe me—" she said, her anger rising— "'my kind' know an insult when they hear one."

"Come on, that's not what I meant at all. I just meant that you're...you know..you. You run everything, and I'm—"

"Below me," the Governess finished angrily. "Honestly, I don't know why I bothered coming here. You've ignored me ever since I came down here."

"Hey, you were the one brushing me off like I didn't exist," Roger said pointedly. "I respected your boundaries."

"Right, right, whatever you say," she spat, venom dripping from her words. "I'm leaving. Unlike some people's, my job actually matters, and I have things I need to take care of. I suggest you do the same."

With that, the door slammed shut and the Governess was gone.