Pouring the tear minutely on the white decorated glass, he hears steps coming from the hall. A smile grows on his face as he already identifies who is coming. Her essence was unmistakable. She leaves it whenever she passes by. The smell of irises, her favorite flowers, with a slight touch of honey. He could already imagine her hair swinging in the air, just like the long dresses she normally wears, making her look like a perfect immaculate doll.
He feels her presence stopping beside him, who is still looking at the expensive silverware. Obviously, this is part of his work as a butler, and he must finish it. This time, however, he notices she is not starting to chatter like usual. On the contrary, glancing at her, she is quiet as an owl. Her expression transfers that there might be something wrong. Or, in reality, this time he couldn't read her. Her face had never been so serious before.
-Hello, Miss. What's the problem? Why are you so quiet today? – He asks, still settling the glasses with the tea on the silver tray. He waits patiently for her to answer, ready for another random complain from her daily agenda.
-I'm getting married, Doyoung.
Her voice came out raspy and her tone was low, as if she didn't want anyone to hear, or because she didn't want to say it. His hands stop doing his work, being caught by the sudden shock of a so small phrase.
Her hands tremble, sweating in the cold, taking away the heat from the point of her fingers. She didn't know how to say it. She didn't know how he would react. She had imagined this scene many times, and postponed it even more, but soon or later, he would know.
-To whom? - He corrects his posture, faking tranquility while his heart accelerates.
-Richard. – She answers, and he scoffs, walking to the other side of the room, lightening up the center table candles.
She follows him in slow steps, wondering what's running by his mind now. Doyoung was always a mysterious person. He intrigued her since the beginning when he started to work at the house. He called her attention quickly. To be very precise, when she first laid her eyes on him. His polite bowing and serious expression got plastered in her head.
He was quiet as the silence, and cold as the snow, but with time, just like a miracle, she found a way to break that wall he settled. Even so, his thoughts are still hard to unravel. He can be sad, mad, shocked, happy, or anything right now.
-Do you love him? – She was not waiting for that question, and the sudden hesitance says it all.
-Richard is a great man. He is well known by our community. A family man with a good carrier. I'm sure he will be a good husband for me. – She says, and Doyoung sighs impatiently. His movements are becoming harsher and rushed as he keeps trying to concentrate on the work.
-That's not what I asked. – He says in a deep tone, and she gulps, feeling the air too heavy for her lungs inside of that room.
-You know the answer. – She mumbles, biting her lips, walking to the window. A waning moon is partly covered by the clouds, revealing a rain in potential.
-When? – He asks as his back faces her, still not looking at her eyes. She lowers her head. That was the question she didn't want him to ask, but she would be a fool if she really thought he wouldn't.
-I'm leaving tomorrow. – His fists tighten beside his body, also staying in silence. His eyebrows furrow, astonished, even knowing that this day would arrive, but maybe he just preferred to live as it wouldn't.
-Why didn't you tell me sooner? – He finally turns around, now looking straightly at her soul. She gulps, looking down, deviating her gaze from him. She knows it was cruel, but it was the choice she could bear.
-You would make me want to stay. – She says, and his eyes widen in a surprised and hurt face. Hurt not for what she said, but for what they could have been.
They always exchanged many words. Indeed, they talked every day. But those words never left their mouth. It was a common sense between both pretending nothing was happening. That they didn't know a sparkle shined inside their hearts.
Of course, their worlds are totally different. Everything a butler and a princess could share was hierarchy. Such hierarchy which says that he couldn't, even by the work of his deepest imagination, cross the limit. But that limit was crossed too long ago. To both of them.
-Then why? – He says, as his feet drag him closer, standing in front of her, looking at her eyes.
-You know it's not my decision. – Her voice fails, her breathing gets irregular, and her eyes beg him for forgiveness.
His jaw clenches in anger. He knows it's not her fault. In fact, she had tried to avoid this situation, dodging her father's questions and the pressure from the family, but the destiny was already traced.
-If I could choose... - A tear escapes from her eye, rolling beautiful by her perfect porcelain face. His gaze is fixed on her, as if he could feel this was the last moment for them. – Doyoung... - She calls his name desperately, wanting something she can't have, and that is literally in front of her, but at the same time so out of reach. – Doyoung, I lov-
She felt her feet levitating and her breath being taking away as his hands pulled her by the waist, sealing their lips together. He couldn't let her utter such words. If she did, it would be the end for both of them. He preferred to leave it for his dreams only, for her sake. In the dreams' world, he could paint them perfectly without prejudicing her, even if it was so torturing for him, because he wanted it to be real.
She clings to his suit with a tight grip, forgetting completely who she was, where she was, and what she was doing. Finally. Finally. That's what she thought when the heat of his body traveled to hers, when she felt the texture of his skin for the first time. It is like she had found the perfect missing piece. He seemed so cold, but now he feels so warm. His tongue moves like the wind, light on her senses, bringing chills down her spine.
He pulls away, staring at her eyes, not knowing if he should regret what he had just done. He kissed her. How serious is it for the hierarchy? For sure, very grievous. But he would stick to it with his life, because it was worth it every single second.
Grabbing his right hand's glove, he takes it off, letting it fall to the ground. His hand flies to her face, giving himself permission to touch her truly. She leans her head in the most beautiful way, closing her eyes in satisfaction. His thumb caresses her lips, not taking long to make it his once again.
-I want to be the only one to face the consequences. – He says in a heavy tone, drunk with the adrenaline. She shakes her head violently, as tears fall down again. – You don't have to say, because I already know. – He says, looking deeply into her eyes. – But I want to say it. No, I need to say it. – Their chests move up and down in fast breathings and fast heartbeats. Her hands were resting on his chest while he caressed her face. A perfect view for any painter's masterpiece, the consummation words finally coming out of his mouth after years. – I love you.
