Perfect Matches - A Black Butler (Weston College) Love Story

Savior

Gregory had heard a small thud outside his door, causing him to stir in bed. He sat up and looked around his dark room, wondering what on earth had happened. He could never fall into a deep sleep. 

The prefect walked to his door and found his lamp, switching the light on. He opened his door and saw nothing, but felt a small crumple underneath his feet. Gregory looked down and found a folded sheet of paper that he picked up. 

The words on the page made him shake.

Dearest Gregory,

She is dead. My mother is dead. I don't know what to do. Actually . . . I didn't know what to do. My sisters sent me a letter with those few words that made me run out of my room and catch a carriage straight home. I always feared that one day, my father's rage would become controllable and when I came home . . . she wouldn't be there. Standing at the door. Happily passing around cookies. I was afraid all of that would disappear. 

And now it has.

Without my mother, I'm lost. She was there to push me, to keep me going. No matter what her circumstances were. And as you know, hers were terrible. But I never realized how much I'd miss her if she were gone until she actually died. 

I know my father did it. His rage probably became uncontrollable over such a tiny mistake my mother made. But I don't want the details. I don't know the details. And yet, part of me aches to uncover the truth. But I can't bring myself to go back home.

What do I do, my dear Gregory?

Gregory. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for shoving all of my problems at you. And thank you. You helped me see the kindness in the world. You and my friends. All of you. You made those dull days seem a little bit brighter. But that was only temporary. Nothing will ever be enough to pull me out of the deep abyss I've fallen into.  

Before I end this letter, I want you to know that I love you. I always will, no matter what happens to me. And please, would you be so kind as to spread a message for me? Please. Tell my friends that I'll miss them. And that I thank them. 

Gregory, I'm done running.

-Ignasia

Gregory grabbed his cloak, shoved the letter in his pocket, and flew out of his room. He was about to leave the house when he saw a slip of paper peeking out from the crack underneath Chantel's door. He grabbed it and put it in the same pocket as his letter.

He had to stop his bride to be. Gregory couldn't let all of his memories with her turn to dust, the future they could have together blow away in the wind. He needed to be her savior. 

So where would she go?

Ignasia stood still on the small wooden bridge of Eladaria Grove. She stared at the moonlight shining down on her and felt her heart sink as she recalled her moments with Gregory in that beautiful meadow. 

She closed her eyes and felt the wind blow her hair all around her, and she felt like running. She could do it.

Run.

She could leave Eladaria Grove, leave her school, leave everything behind. Even her problems. But only temporarily. Ignasia was tired of temporary fixes. 

She wanted a permanent solution. And she'd found it.

Ignasia pulled out the knife from her cloak pocket and removed the sheath. She saw her reflection in the knife and in the water below. She watched a single flower petal land on the tip of her blade. Then she watched it get blown away just as soon as it came.

And for the first time since her mother died, Ignasia cried. The tears just started to flow. From where, she had no idea. But she didn't try to stop them. She just stood still, staring at the moon, letting the tears stream down her cheeks. Her teardrops landed on the shiny blade, falling straight down to join the small stream below. 

It was time to lay the price.

Ignasia closed her wet eyes again, she forced herself to silence her sobs. She'd lost it all. There was no point in living anymore. 

Ignasia gripped the blade tightly. Her hand was shaking. Her body quivered.  But she was going to complete the challenge. So Ignasia took a deep breath.

And stabbed.

At least that was what she thought. Ignasia was expecting her breath to hitch, a sharp pain to shoot through her, feel her body fall over the edge of the bridge and into the stream. 

But none of that happened.

Her breathing was even, her body wasn't in pain, her knife wasn't covered in blood. But she felt a resistance. For some reason, she couldn't get the knife to pierce her. Ignasia was sure it was her. She was sure she just wasn't applying enough pressure. That she just couldn't bring herself to do it.

That wasn't the case.

Ignasia kept her eyes closed as she whispered, "I have to do this." It was meant for only her to hear. But she realized she wasn't alone when she heard the words that saved her life.

"No. You don't."