Love, Your Flower | Louis Partridge

8 -Gerald

*A/N: A filler I suppose?*

I was determined for my plan to succeed.

"Hope you're having a splendid morning, Gerald!" I cheered when entering the kitchen where he was already waiting for me. He was supposed to be the head butler—in charge of all the other butlers—yet it seemed more like he was my babysitter. 

Whenever I got into a serious argument with my parents or sister, he would be tasked with keeping an eye on me to ensure I didn't do anything stupid while I was angry. It was stupid, I didn't need some person watching over me every second of the day, I was perfectly capable of taking care of myself. 

Sadly, my parents didn't believe the same thing as me. I was surprised they even cared, or maybe they didn't, maybe they cared more that I was going to do something that would affect them. Sometimes I did do stupid things, just in spite of them and my annoyingly perfect sister.

"What is it that you want?" Gerald asked rather nastily, his eyes staring into my soul. There were times where he absolutely terrified the living daylight out of me, but other times he was a big softy. Obviously, he'd never admit to it—not that he needed to because I already knew he was.

"Can I save some breakfast for Louis?" I asked, a smile on my face in hopes he'd accept my request. "Please?"

"Can he not feed himself?"

"Well, yes, but why waste all this food?" He could tell I was struggling at trying to figure out how to convince him. 

"Fine."

"Thanks Ger, you're the best!" He hated when I called him Ger, my nickname for him. 'It was too tacky' is what he always said, or the 'it's unprofessional'. I didn't care though; it didn't stop me from using it. Plus, I'm sure he secretly loved it and just refused to let it show.

He was a softy deep down, I knew that for a fact when he snuck me food a couple years ago. Which was also why he happened to be one of the only people in this palace that I genuinely liked.

————

Saying I was angry would be an understatement. I was furious, there wasn't enough words in the dictionary to explain how angry I really was. Why? You might ask. Well, because of my parents and sister, obviously. 

I may have said some harsh things to Lily, but it's not like she didn't say anything back. That didn't matter though, I was the only one who got a punishment for running my mouth. No matter what she did, my sister never got real consequences, the most she ever got was short lectures. Whereas I was sent to my room without dinner, forbidden from seeing Louis for weeks at a time or even speaking a single word to my parents.

Favouritism at its finest. Or worst, because it wasn't a good thing. At least not for me. 

In this case though, I was sent to my room with no dinner while everyone else ate a five course meal with the guests. It was far from fair, my sister should've suffered the same consequences, but I should've known better. 

Of course Lily wouldn't, she was the next in line for Queen. Unlike me, who seemed to be a nobody to most people or at most, Lily's younger sister, but that was the closest I got to someone noticing me. Why would we ever be treated the same?

So here I was, alone in my room where I was able to sulk as much as I pleased. Which I was most definitely doing the second I entered my room with the door shutting behind me. I had been for the past ten minutes—it felt like it had been at least a couple hours and at this point it seemed as if this night would never end.

Once it had actually been a couple hours, my stomach started acting up. Every couple minutes loud growls would echo through the large room, making its way back to my ears. That's when I realised how hungry I had become, even though I had done nothing more than lay on my bed, reading a random book I found on the bookshelf across from me.

Unfortunately, getting something to eat was out of the picture, since it was part of my stupidly unreasonable punishment. Plus, it didn't help when I couldn't stop imagining the delicious dinner everyone was probably eating downstairs. 

I would have killed for just a small bite of whatever they were eating. Ok that was definitely exaggerating, I wouldn't kill anyone for food, at least not yet. Maybe if I was to endure these cruel conditions for any longer—there's no doubt that I would.

Just as I thought all hope was lost, a sudden knock on the door caused me to jump up from my bed. I stayed silent, waiting to see if whoever it was made themselves known. Although there was not another sound made, so after another minute of waiting I rushed over to the door. 

Without sparing another second, I turned the knob, carefully opening it before sticking my head out to check if anyone was in the hallway. After double checking both ways, my attention was drawn beneath me where I saw something that brought a smile to my face. 

A plate of food. There were different things all stacked messily, not that I cared in the slightest. It was food that looked delicious and not to mention I was starving. 

I quickly picked up the plate, a piece of paper still left on the floor so I bent down and grabbed it too. Then before anyone could have seen me, I retreated back to my room, making sure I locked the door this time. If anyone walked in on me eating, I'd be in even more trouble and that's the last thing I wanted.

Although, I did remember to unfold the paper to read what it said before I even touched the food. I wanted to know who had been so kind enough to secretly give me food against my parents' wishes. They were risking their job, yet they still chose to help me.

Sadly, there wasn't much to work with. All that was said on the note being 'I thought you might've been a bit hungry.' There was no name, nothing. Maybe it was for the best in case my parents were to ever hear about this. 

They would be less likely to find out who it was if even I didn't know who it really was. That didn't stop the curiosity though, I never stopped thinking about the kind gesture. I had even tried to investigate further but had no luck, ultimately causing me to give up on the whole thing. 

It wasn't until a few months later, when Gerald the butler had written me a note about my parents leaving for the weekend to go who knows where. That's when I recognised the writing but it took me a while till I realised why.

On that very same day I found myself searching the endless halls to find him. After a while I eventually stumbled upon him in the kitchen as he was watching over the cooks to make sure they did their jobs.

Approaching him, I quickly tapped his shoulder so that he would turn around. That's then when I handed him the note he wrote to me with a smile on my face.

"Thanks!" I said before spinning on my heels, leaving him with the note in his hands. There was no need for me to look over my shoulder to see him smiling, I just knew.