Act Nine: Honesty

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   A touch ever so gentle came from behind. I moved to jerk from the sudden fright, but before I had the chance, the new hand took my own, keeping me still from the project I was focused on.
Undertaker's long black nails flashed across my eyes, and I allowed myself a breath to relax once more,
"Don't- Don't do that! Do you relish scaring me or something? I truly might just punch you one day, and it won't be my fault then."

The mortician chuckled from over my shoulder, his grip becoming slightly tighter,
"So sorry, but I did call you~ You're quite engrossed in this, aren't you? I insist you take a break."
How did he expect me to think about a break when he was so close like it was casual? My instincts told me to rip my hand away, but I simply couldn't find the will to move. When The Undertaker was holding my hand like this, did I enjoy this feeling?
No, he was doing it intentionally because I was honest about my feelings earlier. He was trying to push my buttons now!
With the realization, I swiftly pulled my hand away, but I didn't turn back to face him,
"I don't need a break. I just want to keep sewing this fabric."
"You've been working for hours, little canary, I worry for your poor hands," His words were like a whisper, tickling the back of my ear, "Did that man get to you? I wouldn't allow him to take you away when you so clearly don't want to go home with him."

Prickling anger rushed across my body as I remembered. Nicholas was here, in the shop, looking for me! An insolent man, a pathetic maggot!
I could feel my fingers start to tremble with rage before I got control of myself again and inhaled,
"He... Does not want to love me, he wishes to control me! He wouldn't be looking for me personally had it not been a man who took me from the manor."
I told the details of Sebastian making an appearance after the men left, and I believed my own words wholeheartedly. The first time I was gone all night, lower servants came to find me. But when he saw a man, Nicholas joined the search himself. Could he make his intent any more obvious? A jealous, overcontrolling pig that assumed I'd jump on the first guy I looked at. He's sure one to talk, but he lost any promise of faithfulness long ago anyway. It's only about controlling me now.
"Nobles live in their own little world,"
When the mortician spoke, he lowered his head, and I could feel his long hair brush over my neck. It tickled, but he continued,
"You do too. I wonder what you think about when you get that lil' far-off look in your eyes. When you raise your voice, you carry so much passion~"
Really now, it almost sounded like he liked when I was pissed off. Plus, what was with this sudden closeness? I'd gotten used to invading each other's bubble after working in the shop for a while now, but this was a bit much, even for him.
I merely huffed, refusing to allow myself the feeling of being flustered,
"What do you mean by that?"
"Nothing much," The mortician shrugged off as he backed up once more, "Just that you have a lot on your mind, hm? Won't you tell me more?"

Since when was he the prying type? I almost wanted to laugh in amusement,
"It's nobody's business but my own. You hide secrets too, don't think I haven't noticed. Perhaps I'll consider it when you tell me more about you."

Instead of answering, The Undertaker stepped out from behind me to slink up to my side. When I turned to look, he gave a teasing grin,
"Is that so? What makes you think I'm hiding anything? What would you like to know, my dear?"
That was a loaded question if I ever heard one. If he was serious, I had to be careful with what I asked. If I dove right into a deep secret, he might refuse and I would never get the opportunity to ask anything again. But I couldn't let it go completely to waste by asking something pointless that I didn't care for.
The longer he stared, the more stressed I was becoming until it hit me. That stare...
"What color are your eyes?"
Hardly a heavy secret, but it had been driving me crazy. It was the one thing I couldn't see when I looked upon his face.
The mortician appeared taken aback by the request as well until he smiled, moving to lean his body over the work table,
"Green," The man chortled lightly, "Chartreuse, perhaps. Would you like to see?"

Huh, was he serious?!
I scanned The Undertaker's demeanor, and nothing told me he was teasing. All this time, and all I had to do was ask, are you kidding?!
I felt a lump in my throat when I reached forward, but continued on.
Just as soft as the first time, my fingers grazed along his long bangs. It wasn't quite velvet, nor would I say silk, although it was quite silky in texture, there was something else... Satin, perhaps?
The mortician didn't argue my slow movements, and I admit it felt better to do this with him allowing it, rather than sneaking a peek while he was asleep.
Finally, I brushed some of the locks aside. The man closed his eyes quickly at the movement, but when my hand was out of the way again, he opened them once more and I found myself making eye contact.
They seriously were green. A warm, lime green that glistened even in the dim lighting of the shop. A striking yellow outline accompanied them, I could have nearly fallen into the sheer beauty.
Amazing... For a man I thought was quite older, he still seemed so youthful. The silver hair of a fox, skin a perfect moonlit pale, only interrupted by the scars across his neck and face, topped with beautiful green eyes.
No way, this wasn't fair!
How could I have been working beside someone so beautiful this entire time and had no idea? I've talked down to him more than once!
I finally had to pull back, letting his bangs fall back into place, and turn away,
"I'd say it's more of a minty green," If only to hide this flustered feeling, I needed to argue something. The Undertaker pulled back up, giggling to himself like it was nothing,
"Lime, perhaps. How are you feeling now?"

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