you got the magic smile

there is a rabid beast in me

I am a bruise — the soft rot of a peach

Small and split open. The seam of me screams.

The garden of the Pyrrhos household was big, there was a small pond filled with fish and trees all around the property. There were stepping stones and colorful flowers still growing, waiting for the first frost to kill them. There was ivy and wisteria climbing up all around the house. With today being a warm day for that time of the year Faolan had decided to spend the day in the garden. He'd gotten up by the time the sun was rising and had spend hours taking care of the garden. Anything to get out of the house for a while. His hands were covered in dirt and there were smudges of soil on his face, together with a few leaves in his already wild hair and if his mother would see him he would end up with the scolding of the centuty, but he didn't care. It was one of the only times he spend his time outside, voluntary. It wasn't that he didn't like being outside, in fact he enjoyed it a lot, but he ended up spending most of his time inside, reading. When the sun was shining brightly on the pale pages of the book he would end up with headaches.

Faolan had the habit of losing track of time when he was out in the garden, something that happened that day as well. He was supposed to meet with Alison... somewhere. He didn't really remember where. All he knew was that it wasn't important in (the way that people were expecting them to be there). It would have just been them spending time together, but after the last time they were together he tried to avoid spending time alone with Alison. Not because his feelings about the engagement had changed, not at all, but he hated himself for sharing such private feelings with the woman and 'needed' time to get deep into his own head, only making it worse.

oh to be loved is not a crime

It was funny how a wound inside of one's cheek could hurt for days. A wound inflicted upon one's self, where no extern weapon was necessary to inflict an annoying, lingering pain. As Alison nervously chewed on the inside of her mouth, she knew it would cause her discomfort in the days to come, and yet she could not put a stop to it. God, how stupid was she to be nervous visiting her own fiancé. Because, truth be told, any man would be lucky to be engaged to her. Yet here she was: an insecure wreck. She feared that she had overstepped, that she had been too blunt and too honest. A feeling she didn't often possess as she was of the opinion that the truth needed to be heard. In this case, though, she cared more about being liked than about being right. Whether or not it was intentional, she felt that Faolan was retreating, pulling back from her. Was she too intense? Too emotional? Did she talk too much? Whatever it was, she would be seeing him today, so that was a good sign she supposed. Still, she worried that it would be... awkward. Or something. God, should she even be caring so much?

As she arrived at the Pyrrhos estate, her presence was made known to a servant who lead her to the garden, where Faolan apparently was. Granted, it was beautiful. Similar to the gardens at her own home, yet maybe a little less grotesque and pompous. A bit more elegant, she supposed. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves as she followed the servant down a cobblestone path. "Lady Winter is here to see you, my Lord." the servant announced her presence. A smile was already plastered on her face as she stepped forward, not wanting him to think that she wasn't happy to be here. However, as she saw the state her fiancé was in, it immediately dropped. There were smudges of dirt all over his face and clothes, leaves and sticks tangled in his hair. He looked like a working class citizen, if she was being honest. "Did you forget about our plans?" she asked, the corners of her mouth pulled downwards in a frown. She had spent the whole morning thinking about it, and here he was, not even caring.

there is a rabid beast in me

I am a bruise — the soft rot of a peach

Small and split open. The seam of me screams.

There was a sort of ache in his bones when he looked at the woman in front of him. He wanted to keep her safe from the people in the Pyrrhos household. The ghosts haunting him during the day and night. Though he knew she was most likely the one that kept him safe instead. The marriage kept him safe from his mothers cold rings and splitting skin. From blood and bruised skin turning all kinds of purples and greens.

”Did you forget about our plans?” Alison asked while Faolan got up and wiped his hands together to get rid of most of the dirt. ”Alison.” He begun, greeting her in the formal way he did when they first met. ”Of course I didn’t, but mr. Kreacher would have done this if I left the house to meet you-“ meanwhile Faolan gestured to the old man that had brought her to him. His hair had been grey for as long as the youngest Pyrrhos could remember and he had been a servant to them for years. ”And even though I told him many times that he should retire and that I would take care of it, everything he needs, he refuses to. The man is convinced that this is his purpose in life or something.” The corners of his mouth tugged upwards into a small smile for a second, remembering the conversation he had with the man not too long ago.

”He’s sixty-one years old and he wanted to do the gardening today, Alison. I couldn’t let him do that.”He explained, attempting to wipe the dirt off his cheek at the same time. All he could do was hope she would forgive him for not meeting up with her, hope she would forgive him for speaking so much. Because even though the old servant was just that, a servant, he’d been the person he’d seen the most in his life. Sometimes he would even consider him his best friend. His brother wouldn’t have picked him in a room filled with people, he would’ve gone for his best friend. The farmer that had gotten him killed. His parents wouldn’t have picked him either. The only person he could hope that would do that was the man that would bathe him, teach him how to read, fed him when he was ill. Faolan turned towards the woman he was meant to marry and waited.

oh to be loved is not a crime

All of this was new to her. She had never been courted before, and even now she wasn't sure that was the case. Had they skipped the courting stage altogether? The whole thing had been arranged without them so much as speaking first. She had known who he was, of course, and they had exchanged niceties before, but not much more than that. He wasn't that chatty after all, and therefore he had never really been on her mind. So they had skipped the courting stage then, engaged without either of them having to prove to the other how great of a catch they were. It changed things. Most people were so desperate to be on her good side that they would almost kiss the ground where she walked. So coming here, she had expected him to be ready and waiting for her, accommodating her every need. Just like she was used to. She supposed this was different, though. Soon they would be married, close-to-equals. Two people that both had needs of their own that were worth accommodating.

"Alison." He never called her anything else. Never before had he called her Ali, like her close friends did. But words like honey, darling, love were just as unfamiliar. She wondered if she would ever hear any of it. Once they were married, would he finally be trusting enough to let go of the rigidness? Brave enough to let her in? She desperately wanted him to, not being able to bear the thought of 40-something years of a cold, hard marriage.

He went on, and her green eyes were big as they found his gaze, then towards the old man as he was mentioned. They were worried, confused, hurt... Until she looked back and saw the small smile on his face. The way he spoke so fondly of the man was new to her, both coming from him as in general. He was a servant, after all. She'd liked Garrett too, but not once did it cross her mind to take over any of his chores. Her gaze softened slightly, although the confusion was still apparent. "That is very noble, but can you not hire someone to help him?" she asked. Faolan shouldn't be wasting his talents by grubbing in the garden like he was some sort of pig, especially not when he was supposed to be heading out with her. Judging by the way he looked, it could be hours before he would look presentable again.

there is a rabid beast in me

I am a bruise — the soft rot of a peach

Small and split open. The seam of me screams.

He almost wanted to force himself to call her ‘Ali’ or any other nickname that they used in the books that were in the Pyrrhos library, but the thing was, when his parents never showed each other any kind of affection in that way it was hard to know what he was meant to do. He still felt like a baby bird that just came out of the egg, though he never had his parents there to guide him like baby birds did. That was wat mr. Kreacher did for him. Fed him, took care of him, learned him how to read. What once started as a simple work relationship soon grew to be a father and son like bond.

”No.” He replied shortly with a tone that told her to get those thoughts out of her head when she suggested hiring other servants. There were other servants in the house of course, but Faolan didn’t trust them enough to touch the delicate flowers. With that being said the man turned around and walked to the small shed to rinse his hands and wash the dirt off his face. His clothes were dirty, but only with already dried up dirt so he could easily get it off his dark pants without leaving an obvious stain. Before he left the shed again he ran his hands through his hair, leaving it a little wet. The sun would dry it soon enough.

Now, Faolan didn’t exactly expect Alison to follow him after his short answer, but he hoped she did when he made his way deeper into the garden. There was a small pond on his left side with a willow tree’s branches hanging over the water, lily pads floating on the water and orange coloured fish swimming around in it. Perhaps this was his favourite spot in the entire garden. There was privacy, silence and it was a great place to read or spend his day writing.

On his right side though was where the fruit trees started. Apples, pears, peaches. The first two still needed time in the sun to ripen, but the peaches were sweet with a slightly sour undertone and incredibly juicy. They were at their best at the moment. He picked the most beautiful looking one and turned to face Alison, offering it to her in a silence he found comfortable and not awkward at all.

oh to be loved is not a crime

No. No explanation, no scolding, no "I"m sorry, my lady." Just no. If there was anything Alison was not used to hearing it was that word in that context. She had offered him an alternative, a great idea, even, and all he said was no.

And then he walked off.

Alison wasn't sure whether to be mad or just purely perplexed. Probably the latter, along with a teeny, tiny bit of ... respect? Somehow, she was slightly impressed by his lack of care. She would never just walk off in the middle of a conversation, not wanting to be seen as rude. So she patiently waited for him to come back, observing whatever it was that he was doing. It wasn't too long before his familiar slender figure emerged from the shed once again and a smile already started to form on her face, right before he turned around and walked off again. Now she was annoyed. What did he think he was doing? Having her come all this way only for him to prioritise a garden over her, leaving her next to an old servant who was apparently too old to even be doing his job properly?

She was done waiting now and stormed off, following the man deeper into the garden. All the beauty she had seen when she had first arrived she was now blind to, annoyance taken over the impressed part of her. Only when Faolan stood still and she followed suit did she notice how the scenery had changed. There was a pond, a willow, fruit trees... It was all beautiful. And in the midst of it all, the most beautiful part. His face now clean, curls defined by the water, sun hitting his eyes in a way that made them light up differently than she had ever seen before. A soft look on his face as he held out a peach towards her, one that she couldn't help but mimic as her annoyance disappeared like snow on a hot day.

Carefully she took the fruit from him, its fuzz tickling the inside of her palm as she slowly turned it around. It felt good, perfect in density and size and the colours looked entire too appetizing. Slowly, her gaze went back up to look at him, a cheeky half-smile on her face. "You are the rudest boy I have ever met." she said, lovingly. Truth was, she didn't understand any of this. The working in the garden, the dirt, the no, the walking away, the whole peach itself. But what she did know was that it all of a sudden felt very intimate, as if she had climbed inside a certain corner of his mind where she could walk through his thoughts as if they were an art gallery. This would not be a large canvas, a center piece; rather it would be tucked away in a corner, beautifully framed with a little description next to it: Faolan Pyrrhos, The Peach Tree. And she would be the only one that would notice it and stay right in front of it until the gallery would close.

The peach was brought up towards her mouth. Slowly, she took a bite, all while maintaining eye contact. It exploded in her mouth, juices flowing in all their sweet and sour perfectness. And she closed her eyes.

there is a rabid beast in me

I am a bruise — the soft rot of a peach

Small and split open. The seam of me screams.

Faolan waited for her. And he was glad he did. When she stood there in front of him with the sun making her features stand out more he could slowly feel the walls he had built around himself crumble again. The feeling terrified him just as much as it might even excite him at the same time. ”You are the rudest boy I have ever met.” Alison said with a tone he couldn’t quite place just yet. ”My apologies, my lady.” The man bowed in a dramatic manner and winked at her, feeling a rush of confidence flow through his veins. Perhaps that was because right now they were in the place he felt like he could be himself the most. Outside in the garden past the point where no one else was allowed to go but him. And Alison. It somehow felt right to have her there with him in the most private place in the entire house probably.

He could feel his cheeks growing hot when they maintained eye contact while Alison took a bite from the peach. There was an even deeper found meaning in the kind of intimacy that had been in the air since she stepped into the garden that day, something more intimate than just sharing the bed on their wedding night.

”You, uh-“ Faolan started while he vaguely gestured with his hands, but he soon gave up and dropped his hands again. There were so many things he still had to learn, even now when he was twenty-six years old. One of those things was that touching other humans, being touched wasn’t as bad as he always used to believe it was.

First, he took a step closer to Alison. The peaches were extra juicy that time of the year and he could see it glistening in the sunlight on her lips. For a split second he wondered if she would taste like peaches too, if he would kiss her right there and then.

He quickly got rid of that thought.

Then he slowly brought his hand back up after what felt like forever. His eyes darting between hers from left to right in an attempt to spot any sign of discomfort on her face. Faolan gently cupped her cheek with his right hand and he could feel his heartbeat picking up. It was banging against his chest like he was a racehorse who’d just finished the race. Somehow it didn’t feel as strange as he thought it would to touch her. Of course he had touched and held her hand when they first met and he kissed the back of her hand, but other than that he never touched the woman in front of him. Not her or anyone else. His thumb touched her bottom lip and while he had his eyes fixed on her he wiped the peach juice from her lips.

oh to be loved is not a crime

Never before had she tasted a peach so full of flavour, so juicy as the one in her hand. She wondered what made it so different. Was it the tree itself, grown from the best seeds in all of Ashmoor? Or the place it was rooted, this beautiful, secluded and peaceful part of the garden? Or maybe it was the way it was tended to. Whatever it was, it tasted divine.

Her eyes fluttered open as she heard her fiancé's voice. It seemed to have changed, somehow. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, just knew that he sounded slightly different than he had before. Maybe it was the way the surrounding sounds carried his voice, floating on the breeze that tickled the tree's leaves. Her senses all seemed to have sharpened, as if the intense flavour of the peach unlocked some whole new experience. She looked at Faolan with a questioning look, her gaze following the movement of his hands. Just about to open her mouth, to prompt him to elaborate. As if there would ever be a space for silence.

She was quickly shut up as he took a step forward, almost causing her to take a step back as it took her by surprise so much. It felt like a mistake on his part, almost. As if she stood in the way of whichever way he needed to go. Faolan never really reached for her, never tried to bridge the gap between them. She was always the one who had to take the chance, to see whether or not he would retreat. She stood her ground though, not one to shy away from contact. Her eyes easily found his. They were almost the same height, but somehow it felt like she stood just as tall as him. Equals.

His grey eyes were hard to read. They always were. If she didn't know him any better she would have thought that there was a chance that he would even send her away right now. Instead, his hand was slowly brought up until it touched her face, cold against the warmth from the blood that rushed to her cheeks. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, blood rushing through her ears as they turned red.

Kiss me.

Kiss me.

Kiss me.

Her eyes were basically begging him to, and for just a moment she thought he might. But he didn't, of course. Still, when he lifted his thumb she held her breath, until it softly landed on her lip. Ticklish and cold and tender, it made her knees go wobbly underneath her. Her gaze was still focused on his, even though his eyes were now focused on wiping the juice from her lips. She wanted him to look at her, to show his emotions in those pale grey eyes for only her to see. She wanted to know what he felt. Would it be indifference, just helping her out? Lust? Love?

She wanted him to look at her and so she opened her mouth and then, softly, closed it around his thumb. It tasted like peach, of course, but also like soap and a bit like ink. She wanted to taste more of him. Kiss me kiss me kiss me.

The breeze in the garden picked up. A strand of her hair escaped from its carefully braided construction, intermittently blocking her view of his perfect face.

there is a rabid beast in me

I am a bruise — the soft rot of a peach

Small and split open. The seam of me screams.

The thing with feeling was that Faolan didn’t want to do it at all. He sometimes wished that there was a button somewhere in his brain that said ‘turn feelings off’. Of course, that dark cloud in his brain didn’t stick around for too long, because the ray of sunshine on front of him surprised him once again.

She wrapped her mouth around his thumb and he could feel the blood rushing to his ears. The young man was a bit embarrassed if he was being honest. Not because of her behaviour, not at all, but because of the way his body reacted to her. He felt his heartbeat speeding up once more in a combination of anxiety and a feeling he couldn’t quite place just yet. Perhaps it was lust? The word love seemed to terrifying just yet.

Faolan slowly moved his hand from her cheek towards her ear and gently tucked the loose strand of hair behind it. He would rather not feel anything than be a person guided by only their emotions. That was something he always told himself. In every book he read the love eventually burned out and turned to hatred. Wouldn’t it be better to keep their feelings to themself, no matter what they were, and live their life like they were already doing? Maybe that would’ve been better, but the woman in front of him made it an habit to throw his beliefs in the trash and show him hers. He liked those a lot better.

”You are breathtakingly beautiful.” He murmured under his breath while his other hand found her waist. The hand that was now on his fiancée her waist softly tugged her even closer to him and he could feel her warm breath on his face. She even smelled like peaches now. A sweet scent mixed with the smallest hint of freshness from the fruit hung around her and Faolan almost felt his knees wobble under his body. Everything seemed to hit him all at once and where he used to think that that would be terrifying, it just felt right. Like the final puzzle piece. Now that they were chest to chest he could see every identical color in her eyes and at that moment he wished he was a painter instead of a writer and a reader, because no words could ever describe the way those eyes made him feel.

He knew that if he pulled away now it would take days, maybe even months for them to get this close to each other again. For him to count every little freckle on her face like they were stars in the night sky. He wanted to look at them like this more often and if he pulled away from her he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t find the constellations on her face and trace them gently with his fingers. Nor would he be able to touch her cheek, hold her hand in his. Faolan gave her an almost shy smile before he made his decision.

While he leaned in he closed his eyes and pressed his lips against hers.

Alison Winter tasted like peaches and most importantly, hope.

oh to be loved is not a crime

Alison had never been courted before. It simply wasn't something that she was allowed to be interested in and she had known that every since she was little. There would be one man in her life, one person she was allowed to love, and he would be chosen for her. So all of this, the fleeting gazes and uncertain touches, it was all new to her. Why she was so ballsy then, with all this lack of experience, she wasn't sure. Perhaps it was a desperation to make this work; to make them love one another, as this was the only chance they were ever going to get. Or perhaps it was exactly the other way around. Perhaps she was acting this way because she actually did love him, or at the very least was starting to.

The feeling of disappointment that she felt when he removed his finger from her mouth pointed towards the latter option. The shiver along her back when his hand gently brushed against her ear did as well. She then waited, patiently, for his next move; it took every ounce of her being not to prompt him further. She had invited him in, now it was his turn to decide what that would mean. The uncertainty was clearly visible in his eyes and for a moment she thought he would pull away. But then his voice sounded, tender and warm and earnest.

You are breathtakingly beautiful.

She had heard those words before, from potential suitors trying to woo her, but not like this. Never like this. Not from someone so private in his thoughts and feelings, so earnest in the things she said. For the first time in her life she felt shy, and she looked away for a moment while her cheeks turned a crimson red, not quite knowing how to hold herself. It did not take long, however, before that choice was made for her, a hand on her waist gently guiding her closer to the man in front of her. Green eyes found grey while her breathing became quieter. She felt naked under his gaze, although he could read her every thought, view her every memory. She just stared back, not trying to hide anything. Go on, she thought. Undress me. Peel back every single layer, every single title and outward appearance and societal norm until all that was left was a young woman who needed so desperately to be liked and wanted.

He could give her that. She knew he could. All he would have to do was break down the brick wall in front of him and take a leap of faith. She would be waiting with the ladder.

Needless to say, she had been waiting for it, for the moment in which he decided to jump. It took her by surprise all the same. All of a sudden, there he was. Softly, apprehensively. But undoubtedly there.

While his hands had been cold, a mere touch enough to make her shiver, his lips were anything but. The warmth made hers tingle as they softly followed his movement, the newness of it all all too apparent. At the same time, both her thoughts and the butterflies in her stomach were racing. She could neither think nor feel clearly, all encompassed by his warmth, his taste, his smell. Him. Kissing her. She leaned into his hands, the parts where they touched her body feeling as though they were burning up.

She softly put her hand on his cheek, deepening the kiss in the process as she couldn't help herself. 24 years had she been waiting for this moment, never had she considered that it would awaken a hunger in her that only wanted more, more, more.

The fact that it was Faolan was enough.

[/i]

there is a rabid beast in me

I am a bruise — the soft rot of a peach

Small and split open. The seam of me screams.

They'd known each other for months, but the last couple of weeks they somehow decided to actually try and work on what they could have, or rather, Faolan decided that it was time to get out of his shell. Slowly but surely.

When Alison placed her hand on his cheek he slowly leaned into her touch. He never would have thought that a simple gesture like that in that moment would make him weak on the knees. It made his cheeks warm up under her touch, but for once he didn't care. He didn't care that the kiss might have been a bit clumsy or that his entire face was heating up or that she was touching him. He didn't care. In fact he wondered if he might like it. There was something so tender and gentle in the way she held him that made him never want to leave.

A kiss that already held so many unspoken words and hidden feelings for Faolan that it overwhelmed him the second he pulled away from her. It overwhelmed him like a big wave on the ocean and the tide pulling you under the surface, holding you under long enough for your lungs to start burning from the need to breathe and your eyes to sting because of the salt. Alison was that ocean. The ocean that looked calm and peaceful at first glance, but once you take the time to sit in the sand you notice the ripples in the water that tell you there's a stong current, ready to take you with it. Alison Winter was a riptide, a storm. She was dangerous and exciting at the same time and every time Faolan felt himself being pushed away because of his own mind, she pulled him back in like a strong wave.

Alison Winter was like the sun on a spring day, early in the year. She was the sun on the days where the sun shone so bright you'd end up squinting to enjoy the first bit of heat melting away the snow. The bit of sun everyone appreciates, but ends up with a sunburn at the end of the day to remember her by.

Alison Winter was so much more than Faolan Pyrrhos had thought at first and even though it frightened him, he couldn't wait to discover more about her until he knew everything.

Faolan pulled her closer to him again when he finally got a hold of his thoughts again, and pressed their lips back together, kissing her again.

oh to be loved is not a crime

What if she hadn't been the heiress? If he hadn't been hand-picked by her parents as the best possible suitor, deemed most likely to help her provide an heir? Would they still have found one another? Some upper-class ball swiftly locking eyes before looking away again, until the signs of her fan would persuade him enough to at least come and ask her for a dance. They could have courted, in the traditional sense, before getting married and starting a family. Lady Pyrrhos, she would be. The perfect asset to her husband.

But she was the heiress. And she would not be an asset to her husband, but to her people. He was chosen to support her in this, quietly, from the background; it would have been enough if he granted her nothing more than the title of "Wife" and a few children. But she wanted more, never satisfied with all the things she had. She wanted love. Passion. A partner; not just on paper but in practice, too.

For a while she wasn't sure if she would ever get it. He was so quiet, so closed-off and never seemed as interested in forming a deeper connection as she was. But now, this, he must feel the same electricity that Alison felt crackling through her veins. There was no way her body created the feeling all on its own, she was sure of it.

Until he pulled away.

He pulled away, and she opened her eyes to look at him, having to adjust to the lively garden colours for a second. They didn't give anything away. They never did. She wanted to ask him about it again, like that day in her own garden when he showed a side she had never seen before. She wanted to pull it out of him, bare his soul and marvel at its wondrous complexity. But most of all she wanted him to trust her enough that she wouldn't need to ask or pull.

A surprised moan left her mouth as he kissed her again. Is this the reassurance you need, Alison? Was it enough? Her hand slowly slid up from his cheek, passing below his ear until it was entangled in his hair. Soft, short waves that were still a little wet from the shed. Her finger found its way around one, twisting it in the rhythm that their mouths moved together. She might very well be overstepping another boundary at this point. She didn't much care.

Thud.

The forgotten peach fell on the ground.

Edward Winter
rulership is in our genes, dominion is in our makeup

Where by Renestrae was Alison Winter? The question had been lingering on the Duke's mind for the last hour. Edward had decided he wanted his daughter present at the next meeting with his council. However, she was nowhere to be found. Finally, an answer came: Alison Winter was spending time with her fiancé.

The Duke arrived at the Pyrrhos house soon enough. An unexpected visit for the household, he could tell. Heavy footsteps echoed through the hallways as the man was brought to the gardens, where —as he was told— his daughter was with her fiance. Of course, he could send one of his men to get her, but he had come all this way already. Besides, sometimes if you wanted things done properly, you had to do it yourself.

With a pensive look on his face the tall man walked past the wintery greens, away from the house. It didn't take him long to find what he was looking for. There was the Heir of Ashmoor, interwtined with the boy. A lovely display? Not if the boy didn't look like the next Duke of Ashmoor at all, but rather like a common gardener. He had thought his daughter to be engaging in clever conversation with her bethrothed, not frolicking around the garden like there was nothing more important to do. They hadn't even heard him coming.

"Lady Alison."

The deep voice of the Duke filled the air. "You are expected at the next council meeting. It starts in one hour." With that, the man turned around once more and started walking away from the couple. He had hoped to spend some time with his daughter but after what he had just seen he wouldn't be waiting on her in the carriage. Not until she got more serious about her life.

there is a rabid beast in me

I am a bruise — the soft rot of a peach

Small and split open. The seam of me screams.

The time between their second kiss and a visitor arriving at the gardens felt like a blur. A good one. A blur where he wanted to feel everything he never let himself feel because he knew he wasn’t worthy of feeling the way he did. Where he usually tried to hide from human emotions he now wanted to embrace it.

Of course that didn’t last very long.

”Lady Alison.” He pulled away from the kiss quickly, feeling the blood rush to his normally pale cheeks in embarrassment. "You are expected at the next council meeting. It starts in one hour." Faolan wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and took a step back from the woman he was engaged to. The duke had caught the two of them sharing a moment that was just theirs, but that’s what happens when you’re engaged to Alison Winter. No moment is just ‘yours’. It’s everyones if you’re not careful. Right now he just wanted to go back inside and never show his face again. ”You should go.” With his hands now shoved deep into the pockets of his pants he stared at the direction Edward Winter had left.

Once again Faolan pulled the walls back up again that he had built around himself so carefully. Every time they seemed to have some sort of progress together, every time Faolan felt like he could be himself, things like this happened. When that happenend Faolan felt himself going silent, trying to smother his own voice even when he was speaking.

The youngest Pyrrhos turned around on his heels and made his way back inside the house to go to his room and spend his time regretting and over analysing everything he did after Edward Winter arrived.

oh to be loved is not a crime

It had to mean something, she decided. This kiss, the way he pulled her back in for a second. This was not just her imposing herself onto him. She wasn't sure what had changed, why he had suddenly decided to let her in like this. Whatever it was, she truly couldn't be happier. Couldn't help but smile against his lips.

"Lady Alison."

A cold shiver ran across her spine as a familiar voice thundered across the garden. Immediately she pulled back and dropped her hands, like a kicked puppy dropped its tail; her eyes big as she looked at her father. He wasn't supposed to be here. Why was he here? Was something wrong? The answer came soon enough; she was expected home. A council meeting that she didn't have to attend, but apparently that had changed. She didn't quite know what to say, nor did she have time to think of anything before her father turned back around and left. He wasn't happy, that much she could tell. She turned towards her fiancé, only to watch in horror as he wiped his mouth, as if the way their lips had touched had disgusted him.

This was a mistake. She could feel her stomach sink at the realisation, a nauseous feeling overtaking her. She shouldn't be here trying to convince someone to love her who clearly didn't, not while she had so much more important stuff going on at home. "Faolan, I--" she started. She wanted to apologize for pushing him, for making him do things that he apparently didn't want to do. For her father walking in on them like that. Before she got the chance, though, she was interrupted.

"You should go." His eyes were cold, hard, as if nothing that had happened that day held any meaning. She was taken aback by it, and for a moment she couldn't think to do anything but just look at him, the hurt clearly visible on her face. It wasn't like he granted her a lot of time to respond either; before she knew it, he had returned to the house, leaving her all alone in the garden.

Her eyes were blinking fast as she felt tears coming up, not sure whether it was because of anger or hurt. She had hoped to receive some sort of support from him after her father's scolding, even if it was no more than an understanding look. Instead he just left her there, left her to deal with her mistakes all by herself. She supposed it was fair enough; she was the one to lose focus, to allow herself to hope for things that were never meant for her. It was her own fault that both men barely looked at her as they left her on her own.

She took a deep breath and made her way back towards the carriage with which she had come. The council was waiting for her, after all.