Chapter 11: Art Disturbs the Comfortable and Comforts the Disturbed
Birch reached for his long coat pocket and brought out a couple mint leaves. Watching me inquisitively he slowly placed one on his tongue, observing me like I was an ancient relic waiting to be translated. I lifted my eyebrows and watched him chomp on the mint.
"...that would be all gentlemen," the magistrate officer said to both of us. To neither of us. "Thank you for taking the time and meeting me"
I broke the stare and inclined my head towards the long-bearded old man. Putting on the best smile I could muster, I got up from my chair and brought my hand out toward him. "The pleasure was all ours, magistrate. It was wonderful discussing business with you."
"Ah well," the magistrate looked down and shook my hand. He had a sheepish look on his face as if he were debating asking me something. I looked down at his hand still shaking mine and side glanced Birch who looked just as amused as I did.
"You wouldn't... Well you wouldn't," he said before sighing "Please let Miss Cherry know that I asked after her."
My eyes widened and I heard Birch nearly choke on the leaves in his mouth before taking my hand back and nodding, "Certainly, Magistrate. I'm sure she sends her regards too." Her regards to your wife, and your children and the white hairs in your nostrils,I thought.
As both Birch and I left the office not saying a word until the moment we exited the doors, I couldn't help but laugh alongside him. We got into the carriage and I told the rider to head back to the house, but not before stopping at the Cuts Manor.
"You look different," Birch mentioned to me. "You've got a sort of glow, sweetheart. One that only happens when women get pregnant and men get their cock inside a schoolgirl's arsehole. Which one is it, Waity?"
I narrowed my eyes and shook my head at the sentences that came out of Birch Cuts' mouth. "I look the same as I did yesterday, and the year before that."
Birch shook his head slowly and reached into his pocket for more mint leaves. I could almost hear the thoughts in his head. You may be fooling yourself, Micah. But you can't fool me.
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I poured myself another whiskey sour and stirred it behind the bar before bringing it up to my lips
I poured myself another whiskey sour and stirred it behind the bar before bringing it up to my lips. The bar near the front foyer had a small gap in its design. One that had a clear view that could see straight to the kitchen if the double doors were open. I swallowed and felt the burn, I looked at the grand clock across the room. Finn would be here in another minute or so, knowing his punctuality was something that came from being apart of Nicholas Waitstill's son.
I had been watching Elle converse with Radella for the past ten minutes. They weren't doing anything spectacular, all they were doing was talking. Something so mundane, but I couldn't help feel the dash of happiness in my body seeing my sister's face light up from the activity.
That was another thing that came in the package deal of being Nicholas Waitstill's offspring. Anything that was selfish enough to make you feel happy, more times than not - it was understandably forbidden. Elle was a bastard by birth, she grew up being lesser than all of us. Yet, she held the connection to Waitstill and therefore, could not associate with that of a lesser and subordinate class.
The same thought came to me when I saw Finn walk down without his molly boy at hand. I had sensed that Finn had distinctly different preference when it came to pleasure. Never willingly accepting the tasteful selection of women that my father presented in front of us. Granted, he was never devoted to the business like my father and Theo showed off. Still and all, he felt the perfect ache of lust and its consuming appetite, but never spoke of how it inclined towards men of any kind.
"You look like Death's Baron knocked on your door and asked for a refund, you're that morbid." Finn greeted me with a light smirk.
I handed him the glass I had drank from and saw him take it but make no move to drink the liquid inside. "I saw to it that he knew he knocked on the wrong door, and showed him to yours. Must have been while you were out." The smile reached both our eyes and Finn drank the amber liquid keeping his eyes on me.
"Where's your molly boy? You've been joined at the hip since you brought him to the dinner." I asked and bit my tongue when I saw his face flush from my double edged words. A warm feeling told me to tell him to watch out. To not be stupid and remember who he is. But the smile that manifested on his face stopped any thought from escaping my teeth.
"He's in the Quarters, having his afternoon tea. What news of the company?"
Finn was nothing if not agile enough to know when something was lingering on my mind. He knew me too well. In fact, for his ripe age he seemed to know everyone too well. Never giving out how mature his mind ticked and how nimble his attention was to detail; always connecting pieces together that went overlooked by most.
"Father wants you to dignify the annual gala by showing the guests you've come of age." I said slow seeing the smile disappear from his features and something sour take it's place. Finn swallowed the rest of the whiskey and I knew it was the calm before the storm. Knowing Finn weathered his storms in his own head, keeping everything and all to himself. I stepped forward, and reached for the glass looking him in the eye.
"I shall try my best to talk him out of it, you have my word, Finn." I said. He turned his eyes away and his eyes found the slip of the kitchen door where Elle and Radella were kissing in each others arms.
He laughed under his breath, the sound laced with astringent hatred. "You and I both know that dear old dad can't be talked out of anything once his mind is set. Just like you and I both know that I will be fucking a whore's cunt in that gala. The same way I will be for the rest of my life because of him."
His fingers slipped from his grip on the glass and I saw the look of grief as he turned to walk away.
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She was sleeping on the floor when I came inside
She was sleeping on the floor when I came inside. I placed the bottle of red wine on the counter top and placed my attention back on her. Her hair a windswept net on her joined hands. I got ride of any shackles and cage for the time being, but warned her that her obedience joined their dismissal. She was wearing a pale white slip and I could see the dusty rose of her nipples against the material. I licked my lips and took in her form.
She had a slender frame, I could tell she was eating more because her flesh filled out around her ribs. Her waist dipped out to her hips that looked more and more like they were made to be kissed. I found myself wanting to kiss her the more I saw her, in times like this. When her full lips were slightly parted and chapped. Making me want to grab her cheeks and lick a line of sugar from her bottom lip. When the material of her slip had shifted to show the milky sensuality of her thighs. When everything about her needed to be painted by a destitute streetside artist, because they were the only ones who knew how to color grief and pain and tenderness. Her image hung up as artistry.
I saw her eyes flutter as she woke, her body rising having been accustomed to sleeping on hard surfaces since she reached here. I waited for her to notice me standing there, not saying a word. I wanted to take the small moments before she came to me. When her eyes weren't alight with meticulous intention, when her body sang of repulsion but her breath desired contact.
She noticed me and a breath escaped her lips. The fear no longer as full-bodied as when she came here the first evening. I gave her space, not liking the carnality that she evoked in me. She swallowed, dampening her mouth and lips before sitting on the back of her thighs in servility. I hadn't earned her submission in any form. So why was she giving it to me so willingly?
"Come here, kitten." I whispered into the darkening room. There was only one candle light that neared above us both, casting shadows on us. She moved to rise on her feet but I stopped her before she could adjust her body.
"Crawl to me." I saw the dread tremor through her lashes and yet, still she got on all fours. Never leaving my eyes, her palms on the floor and her knees pushing her inch by inch closer to me. When she reached my feet, her cheeks were flushed red and her breaths were coming out harsher.
"Sh-Should I attend you, Master?" she whispered to the floor.
"No Kitten, today I shall attend you."
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