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Edgar couldn't sleep that night. All he kept thinking about is you. He couldn't understand the way you treated him despite him being mean to you, after all, he disliked commoners. To him, everyone in this manor was lower than his status. He remembers the one time he told Demi to fetch him a drink. She refused and Edgar got mad. "The world isn't created equal. I belong to the high-class so you should serve me." Demi rolled her eyes and said, "The world is created equal. Someone just decided they were better." With that, she left. She didn't want to be alone in the same room as him.
Another memory he remembered was when he was painting in the living room that everyone was allowed to be in. Since you, Victor, Andrew, and Luca came back from a match and were tired, you told the three to go ahead and chill in the living room while you go grab them drinks. When you grabbed four bottles of soda, you saw Victor, Andrew, and Luca heading in your direction. "Huh? Shouldn't you guys be chilling on the couch?" Luca shook his head. "Edgar is painting. He doesn't want anyone to disturb him."
"Isn't the living room an open space for everyone?" You ask, handing the drinks to each of them "Not exactly. We're commoners." Victor says, looking down. You could see his sad expression so you gently pat him on the head. "Don't worry. I will go talk to him." You were about to head to the living room but a hand held onto your wrist. "Do you need us to come with you?" Andrew asks. "It's alright. You three must be tired. Get some rest." The three retreated to their respective rooms and slept while you went to the living room.
You knocked on the door before entering. "Did I not tell you not to come back?" Edgar says without looking away from the canvas. "This is a public space." You reply to him. "Oh?" He stops painting and raises his eyebrow. "Who are you?" He asks. As you were about to reply, he puts a hand, signaling you to stop. "I don't need to know. Hand me the paint over there." He commands. "It's possible that you can get it yourself." You give him a small smile before walking towards the door. "Hey!" He calls out to you. The moment you turned around, you were splashed with red paint. "You can fetch me the paint now."
You took the bucket that was emptied and started scooping the red paint that spilled onto the floor. Since the floor was wooden and quite old, you had hurt your palm from the splinters. Although it hurts, you still continued to scoop and put it in the bucket. You stopped when you notice a different shade of red dripping onto your dress. You weakly pull the bucket towards him and say, "Here's your paint." You left as soon as you finished the task. You take a look at your palm and gently pull out the splinters.
