Oneshots [IdentityV]

To Nurture Love and Art [Norton x Aesop]

Ronald of Ness x Music Master

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Birds were chirping without a care in the world, it was spring, the season of blossoms and fleeting sweethearts, everyone bore a smile, even that butler, as old as the mansion, who was like a ghost haunting the corridors. A weird honey-sweet aura was floating everywhere Ronald went, and outside, a red fox leaped in glee through the tall grass of the prairie to the buzzing of bees and the tea-warm sun rays. The freshness of the sea and foreign lands was still following behind him, it brightened his face and his smile so much your knees grow weak from looking at him. What a magnificent face and shape, most thought. His body was built like Michelangelo's statues of marble, his eyes of the purest gold and his heart was full of red roses, passion. Just a smile could make the hearts flutter, yet who knew what could be hidden behind that mask of his as the prettiest things could also have the ugliest flaws.

"Good day to you, sir!" they would say.

"Keep up the good work." he would reply.

He knew how to speak, like a sly fox. A few words from him were enough to bewitch the common folk. Why go to such lengths? Because only this way is one able to reach the highest peak. Over the years, he had travelled across countless countries and oceans in order to find talents in many areas, from smithing to gardening, and established himself a name all around the world. He had everything within the palm of his hand, beside one thing. And he craved so badly for that one thing he could not snatch with his silly schemes, his chest felt cramped, his hands sweated, his eyes looked down. It was quite a pathetic appearance of the man who so proudly wore the name of Ronald of Ness.

Just as cowardly, he knocked on the door. There was music coming from the room but it stopped just as he did, and a few seconds later, a man with grey hair and a turquoise suit came to welcome him. A spark flashed through his eyes until he bowed down with grace.

"My lord." Ronald frowned in disheartenment in front of such formality and entered the room full of a great range of instruments. Some scores were scattered on the ground so he bent down to pick them up, only to be thwarted by the other man. "M-My apologies... You should have given a notice of your visit so I could-"

"Don't be like that," he cut in, "I'm not here for an inspection, please relax."

Even so, the musician could not just let the one who supported a small pianist from a rundown restaurant humble himself because of his own lack of awareness.

"I can't let you do this."

"You can be very stubborn at times, Aesop."

Ronald always found it surprising when the latter acted so firm for the smallest issues such as this one. He hoped to become closer to him, but every time he tried to make a move forward, the wall between them somewhat grew taller, and Aesop was the culprit for that. He was not dumb. He knew very well Ronald cared more for him than he did for others. He was very touched by the attention but also scared of firing up jealousy and envy from his co-workers.

"Do you think so?"

Aesop went to put the stack of papers on the desk. He suddenly froze when he felt Ronald standing behind him, his breath brushed against his neck, he shuddered, his cheeks were growing increasingly red and his heart was pounding inside his heart. The ginger-haired man carefully grasped the white ribbon in his hair, the soft fabric melting in his touch and a dulcet kiss.

"I do. You never look at me."

"This must be your imagination..."

Ronald saw Aesop's blood-red ears popping out. He had seen them so many times, like a signal telling him he had gone the farthest he could.

"Perhaps." He stepped back. "Can you play for me? The others told me you were working on a new composition."

Ronald sketched a smile as he sat on the window sill and Aesop on the bench in front of the black piano.

"Don't listen to them, sir," he sighed, "It still is a draft."

"I don't care."

A chuckle escaped his lips, it was even better if that meant he was able to listen to the creation process. Aesop had always been careful around him, acting perfect and having no openings. There was a moment of silence following their discussion, the curtains tickled to a soft breeze along the clear and pristine notes of the grand piano. Ronald was not a musical virtuoso so he did not find any wrong in the man's piece, or maybe it was due to him being more focused in contemplating Aesop's delicate hand motions over the keyboard, and his long eyelashes drooping over his pyrite-coloured eyes. Aesop could keep denying, Ronald was simply helplessly dazzled.