#i think i would be very distraught if he died in my contraptions. but i think he would not.

[jimlingss]

Black Waltz [1/2]

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 [Finale]

➜ Words: 13.2k

➜ Genres: 70% Fluff, 30% Angst, Butler!AU

➜ Summary: When your parents pass away in an accident, a family secret is revealed. The only person you can trust and rely on is your personal butler, Kim Taehyung.

The caskets are small.   You’re not sure why but you always imagined that they’d be bigger. The undertaker already reassured you thrice that the bodies of your parents fit perfectly. Perhaps they were always that small.   “Poor girl.” Someone murmurs in the corner, not realizing that you can hear above the discordant sobs. “She’s already such a weak child. How will she handle this?”   “How do you suppose?” a man replies in a sharp mutter. “She’s just become one of the richest people in Trulia overnight. Look at this entire estate. All thanks to her father’s watch business.”   “Will you have more delicacy?” she bites back in a whisper. “A man and woman just died.”   You don’t bother looking at them. You don't cry either.    Not a single tear sheds down your cheeks as you look through your netted veil to the closed coffins belonging to your parents. Even the gardener is sobbing into his hat, but you don’t.    Your expression remains stoic.   A man approaches, dark hair and darker suit. He bows his head towards the caskets and then turns to you standing by. You recognize him the few times you saw him in passing. He’s your father’s worker, Yoongi. “My condolences, Miss Y/N.”   “Thank you.”   “Your father was a great man. It was a privilege to work under his guidance. I’m sorry this happened.”   You nod and he takes that you don’t want to extend the conversation and leaves you be.    It was an unfortunate accident. More specifically, a railroad accident. It claimed the lives of many and that also included your parents coming home from a trip to Germany.   “Eugene!” Suddenly, Uncle Seokjin throws himself over the casket. A few distraught folks try to pull him back, but he continues to howl, “How could you leave your only brother like this!”    Aunt Marie cries louder into her handkerchief.   It’s noisy.   In the midst of the ruckus, the corner of your eye catches an older man with brunette hair. The wrinkles crease around his eyes with his sorrowful expression and he takes off his top hat as he approaches. You watch as he places a rose in front of your mother’s casket and then he turns to leave without addressing you.   “Oh, Y/N!” Your attention is ripped away by your hysterically sobbing uncle grabbing your hands. “Poor Y/N!”   Someone takes him away before you get the chance to shove him off.   //   Everyone gathers in the dining room not even a full day after the funeral.   The wallpaper is dark, black trim that matches the hardwood. The long table is mahogany and there’s an unnecessary golden chandelier hanging from the ceiling. You’ve always hated this room and its decorations, especially the heavy curtains that block out the sunlight.   “Y/N!” Your uncle draws out your name and smiles widely as he comes before you with open arms. He gives you a quick squeeze much to your dismay and then lets go. The middle-aged man searches your expression. “My favourite niece.”   “I’m your only niece.”   “Which makes you even more special to me.” His words are sweet. He shakes his head. “What did you ever do to deserve this?”   You wonder the same thing.   Aunt Marie clears her throat and Uncle Seokjin flounders. “Right, right, we should take our seats.”   Your eyes lift to your cousin who smiles at you, dressed in a navy frock coat with an ascot tie. “It’s been a while, Y/N. I didn’t think you’d notice but I was greeting guests at the funer—”   “I noticed.”   You cut Hoseok off mid-sentence with his mouth still open. Aunt Marie chastised him under her breath to sit down and at the same time, the family lawyer enters with his briefcase. He’s been working with your family before you were even born. You could feel his sincerity when he spoke at the memorial.   “Good evening everyone. Y/N.” Mr. Kim — Namjoon as your parents familiarly called him — nods at you in sympathetic acknowledgment and takes his place at the head of the table where your father once sat. He reaches for his briefcase and opens it up for a sealed envelope inside. “I never thought there would be a day like this. Most unfortunate indeed.”   “A heartbreaking tragedy,” Aunt Marie agrees.   “But no time like the present for us to fulfill their last wishes.” Mr. Kim slips out the crisp papers and then his eyes flicker up at you. You subtly motion to him that you’re ready for it to be read and he clears his throat.   Your relatives are sitting on the edge of the seats, hands clasped on the table in anticipation.   “I, Arden Eugene, resident in the City of Lennox, Country of Trulia, being of sound mind, declare this to be my Last Will and Testament, hereby revoking all prior wills and codicils made by me. I appoint my wife, Arden Hana, to inherit all my assets.”   The lawyer continues, “In the event where my wife is unable to inherit...all my assets, including the investments, savings and the estate, liquid and otherwise, I leave my daughter, Arden Y/N, in their entirety.”   Your aunt’s jaw ticks, your uncle has a face of disgust and your cousin’s jaw has dropped.   You’re not sure why they’re so offended. It’s not a surprise. This is what you expected.   That is until Mr. Kim adds the word— “temporarily.”   Your head turns. The lawyer’s mouth continues to move.   “Until the date and time when her half-sibling will be found.”    You’re not sure what happens first. The gasps echoing in your ears, Aunt Marie nearly falling off her seat in laughter, your uncle standing up from his spot, or your own heartbeat thundering in your ears as blood drains from your face. You feel ill, like you might throw up right on the table.   A half-sibling. Another child. There was another child all along.    “—to which ownership of all asserts will thereby be shifted onto them.”   “What is the meaning of this?!” Uncle Seokjin protests. “What child?!”   “I’m sorry, Mr. Arden. I only know as much as you do.” Mr. Kim’s eyes place on you before he resumes reading. “I give my daughter, Arden Y/N, a pocket watch.”   The amused snicker of your aunt is all too clear.   A small box is placed in front of you. It’s the size of your hand, a deep wine red. For a moment, you want to huck it on the floor, but with your breath held in your throat, you nudge the lid open. It’s a perfectly round contraption, the cover golden and perfectly polished, reflecting against the candlelight. You flip it open to find handles ticking away as seconds and minutes pass.   “To my brother, Seokjin, my sister, Marie, and her son, Hoseok, I wish them the very best in the rest of their lives.”   Aunt Marie scoffs. Uncle Seokjin collapses back onto his seat.   The will is finished being read and the paper is folded. The room is full of a tense silence as you stare at the watch. Mr. Kim clears his throat again. “As you are aware of the laws, Y/N, all assets are entitled to you temporarily. But as you have no husband to collect the inheritance, it makes things a bit more complicated. You may still live at this estate and continue the company, but you cannot alter it in any way. That includes liquidating, removing, expanding, or withdrawing. You do not have the jurisdiction to alter the company or any of the investments either.”   Everything is essentially frozen. They left you with nothing.   “Yes.” The corner of Aunt Marie’s lip curls and she sits back. “Even if you are twenty one, you need a husband to own land and wealth. Trulia’s quite old-fashioned, isn’t it?”   Trulia — a small country that bridges France and England together, cutting the English channel into half. You’ve lived here all your life, born and raised, and never hated it more.   “Y/N.” Hoseok breaks your train of thought and you look him in the eyes. Your expression remains impassive. “Did you know you had a sibling?”   You hate it all.   //   The bedroom is shrouded in darkness as you sit back in the armchair.    You’re loosely holding the cold, golden chain of the pocket watch, studying it as it swings back and forth. It’s like a clam, but without any engravings, designs or even ridges on the surface. It’s heavy, perfectly new and polished, the time precise. When both handles of the pocket watch come to twelve, the grandfather clock from downstairs chimes throughout the mansion.   Your other hand crumples into a fist and with a strangled cry in your throat, you hurl the pocket watch across the room with all your might. It clatters to the ground, ear-splitting.   A figure emerges from the shadows, leans down and picks it up with his white gloves.   “Madam, are you not well?”   “Don’t call me madam,” you snap at him.   Taehyung comes closer, his dark hair slicked back, dressed in the usual black tailcoat and trousers. His smile is tender. “You are the head of the household now.”   Arm propped up on the armrest, you press your hand to your forehead. “It makes me feel old.”   “Then I won’t, my lady. I apologize.” He places the pocket watch on the vanity table and comes to your side.   You look up at him, wondering if you look as bitter as you feel. “Even when they’re dead, they have to have the last laugh, Taehyung. They spared me nothing.” Your eyes sting painfully, the lump at the bottom of your throat aching. Anger has coloured your vision red. You’re so full of hate, but you wonder why most of all, it hurts. “I can’t believe my parents didn’t love me even after their death.”   Taehyung kneels and takes your hands that are crumpled hard enough that your nails sink into your skin. He earnestly gazes at you. “You have me. I’ll be with you until the end.”   He promises it rather recklessly. But he’s more than just your butler. More than just a worker in this house. He’s been a friend since childhood. The only one you can fully trust.   Taehyung’s expression softens even more and he reaches out. He hugs you, propping your chin on his shoulder, placing his arms around your back. “You can cry.”   You scoff. “You’re stepping over the line.”   “Then discipline me.”   You bite the inside of your cheek, vision becomes foggy as tears hang onto your lash line. “Why should I cry for those people? If...if anything, I should cry for my own circumstances.”   Taehyung smiles. “Cry then.”   For the first time, you let go. You sob into his shoulder, grasp his coat with tight fingers, allowing yourself to be at grief’s mercy. Wails choke out of your chest and the thick lump finally escapes your throat, leaving it raw and aching in a different way. The tears stain a path down from your welling eyes to your cheeks and then Taehyung’s shoulder like a chilling rainstorm.   It feels like minutes tick away until you’ve cried yourself to exhaustion.   By then, you’re so weak and you can barely open your swollen eyes. But Taehyung guides you to bed and pulls the covers. He tucks you in, making sure you’re warm. “Get some sleep.”   You nod and he extinguishes the flame in the oil lamp.    Sleep comes easier than you expect.   //   When dawn arrives, the light of the sun comes through the white curtains to cast against your eyes. You stir uncomfortably before your lids flutter open. The world is bleary in your fogged vision and your body is heavy. You don’t want to get up, but you have to.   “Good morning, mistress.” Taehyung enters, dressed in his black trousers and tailcoat with a white waistcoat underneath. His hair is pushed back in a windswept look. He sets down the golden tray balancing a water bowl and cloth. “Glad to see you’re already awake.”   “Couldn’t sleep more if I wanted to.” You round the bed and collect the water to wash your face before pressing the cloth to your skin.   Taehyung steps towards your wardrobe. “Would you like me to replace the curtains?”   “It’s fine. I don’t want to wear anything too restricting today.”   He hums. “Then will an aesthetic dress do? Green?”   “Is there a dark blue?”    Taehyung swiftly takes out a simple gown, cut loosely with a few frills at the neckline and a red, ribbon sash around the waist. The shade is a midnight blue and perfectly to your tastes as if he read your mind. It’s without any restrictive corset too. Heaven knows today is going to be suffocating enough, you don’t need to make it more difficult for yourself.   You stand in front of the three panel mirror folded into a nook and lift your arms up. Without batting a single lash or looking twice, Taehyung undresses you from the silk sleepwear and helps you into the camisole before draping the dress over your figure.   You sit at the vanity and he gently brushes out your hair. “Taehyung.”   “Yes, my lady?”   You look at him through the mirror. “Do you think I can do this?”   His eyes flicker up and he smiles. “Of course you can.”   “What if they don’t find me intimidating enough?”   “Then I’ll stand beside you and help you with that.”   What he says has you bursting out in laughter. You spin around in your seat, and Taehyung’s completely unsuspecting when you squeeze his cheeks together. His rounded eyes blink and his lips mimic a fish’s. It makes you grin. “You’re more of a puppy than a guard dog.”   But well, you suppose it’s not important what the truth is. The illusion is what matters most.   He pins half of your hair up and you barely powder your face before you’re leaving for the family meeting. On the way, you brace yourself, only temporarily interrupted by the gardener, Park Jimin, a man who’s been working on the estate for the past three years. He takes care of the garden well, better than your mother ever could. Her roses always withered. He, on the other hand, has quite the green thumb.   “Good morning, madam.” Jimin greets you merrily.   “Good morning, Jimin.” You slow in the entrance hall and Taehyung behind you does as well. “I hope you and the others are doing well. Thank you for still being here.”   The young male blushes. “We’re just doing our jobs, ma’am. You already gave us a whole week’s break which we’re more than thankful for. We just had to come back for the funeral to honour Mr. and Mrs. Arden. So there’s no need to worry about us.”   “I’m glad then.” Your smile eases. “Please continue, don’t let me stop you.”   He nods and goes on his way.   The moment Jimin’s gone, your expression hardens as you enter the main lounge area.   There your uncle, aunt, and cousin are seated around and you recognize your father’s worker, Yoongi as well. You’re not sure since when this house became a guest home where anyone can enter and loiter in as they please. You’ll have to have a word with Taehyung later.    “Y/N! My dear niece!” Uncle Seokjin’s loud and he stands from the armchair with an enormous smile that looks like it’s about to break his face. At that, everyone’s head swivels around.    Yoongi slowly rises from his seat as well.    But your uncle continues, “I hope you had a good sleep. I could barely get a wink thinking about your father and our happy days. Speaking of which, I was thinking about how empty this house will be with your parents gone. Isn’t it time for you to get married? You’ve been of age for a while. I happen to know this very kind young man from England. His name is Mark. I’d be happy to introduce—”   “Uncle Seokjin.” You stop him. “I’d rather not have you speak about my private affairs in front of a stranger.”   His pupils flicker to Yoongi and his mouth closes with a smile. “Right.”   You turn to said man and he nods his head in acknowledgment. “Would you like to have tea in the parlor?”   “No, this will only take a moment. I’m sure you’re already busy. My apologies for coming unannounced.”   “It’s not a problem. What is this about?”   “Your father’s company,” Yoongi says. “There is a client waiting for a shipment and since we closed we’ve been unable to finish the order. Would you like to refuse it?”   “No. It’s fine.” You hold in your sigh and press your finger against your forehead for a moment. Then, you come to a decision. “You may continue and run business as usual. You may act as the temporary lead, Min Yoongi.”   At the announcement, Hoseok rushes upwards with his jaw gone slack. “I could!” Heads turn towards him. “I-If you need me to! I could take over! T-Temporarily, of course!”   Your eyes narrow into your cousin, your expression cold. “There’s no need, Hoseok. I’m sure Mr. Min here will already have his hands full. There'll be no time to properly train you and no way you could take over.”   “But—!”   You ignore him to address your father’s right hand. You’re not sure if this is the right decision, but Yoongi comes across as sensible and rational. He doesn’t seem to have any malicious intention or ulterior motives either. At least your father trusted him, so you will too. “I’ll take a look at the finances and figure out the details soon enough of where the company will move forward from now on. But for now, I will entrust you to it. Please proceed as you normally would.”   Yoongi nods. “Thank you, Miss Y/N.”   You shift on your feet and look to your butler whose height towers your own. “Taehyung, can you please see Mr. Min out?”   He puts his gloved hand over his heart and bows. “Certainly.”   The two men leave the room while your cousin crosses his arms and drops back down into the sofa with a displeased face.   Aunt Marie’s eyes are narrowed in on you and she sighs, shaking her head. She comments, “You’re quite close with that butler of yours, Y/N. A bit too close, if you ask me.”   Your brow cocks. “You don’t have any authority in this household to make such comments, Aunt Marie.”   “I am merely looking out for you, Y/N,” she quips with an underlying sharpness to it. “You never know what rumours can get out and they can get quite nasty. It wouldn’t do you any good to be in a scandal. It’s best if you weren’t so close to the such lowly—”   “I choose who I want to affiliate myself with.” Your voice booms throughout the room, unknowing to how Taehyung’s already returned and that he’s standing just outside of the room. “Taehyung is my most trusted confidant. To insult my personal aid is to insult my choices and thereby, me. From now on, I will not take such things lightly.”   Aunt Marie shuffles back with a cough and the room’s swept into an uncomfortable silence.   Taehyung smiles to himself and notices a timid maid rolling a cart down the hall towards the room. He takes over and dismisses her to which she’s grateful for, knowing the room is tense. But Taehyung is unaffected as he enters with an exaggeratedly cordial expression. He places down a cake stand of pastries on the table, then the teacups.   “There, there. Let’s not get so upset in the morning.” Your uncle sits down and you find your place in front of the fireplace and the imposing family portrait above the mantle. In the meanwhile, Taehyung pours the tea with one hand in front of him. It’s earl grey, your favourite.   You sip it warmly while your expression remains stoic.   Uncle Seokjin clears his throat. “Your cousin, aunt and I have been discussing, Y/N—”   “And?”   He smiles. “We think it’s best if we...join forces.”   The tea is no longer pleasant on your palate, so you set it down on the porcelain saucer. “How so?”   “Well….”   “We don’t know who this half sibling of yours is, Y/N,” your aunt cuts to the chase. “Who knows who they could be or what they would want with us! It is simply outrageous that an outsider could come and collect everything that your parents have worked so hard for and take everything away. Your father clearly had some misunderstandings when he gave us nothing and you so little. I believe he must not have been well when he wrote that will. There must be some mistake.”   Uncle Seokjin nods and Hoseok finds the opportunity to jump in. “I have a friend who’s working in law. There must be ways we can challenge the will or at least find a way to claim back what should be rightfully ours!”   ‘Rightfully ours’.   You want to laugh. “So you want to sneak the money away?”   “You shouldn’t put it that way.” Your uncle laughs heartily. “It’s more like making a wrong a right!”   “Yes!” Hoseok enthusiastically nods. “We can’t just let someone else steal it, Y/N! What if tomorrow someone comes knocking on the door claiming to be your brother or sister, and they want to take everything away?”   Aunt Marie offers a smile. “It’s best if we work together on this matter.”    Taehyung steps behind you, shadowing your form as your relatives look at you expectedly. They have a point, but you’re not at all tempted by their most generous offer. “No.”   “Pardon?”   “I said no.” Your arms cross and you sit back. “Everything is already in my name, the estate, the investments, the company, albeit temporarily, but I’ll figure out what is to come on my own.”   Hoseok’s mouth draws open. Your uncle is unable to muster a rebuttal.    You scoff, rolling your eyes as if their very proposition is ridiculous. It’s too easy to play the villain — and it’s the only way you know how to protect yourself. “And why should I have to accept your help and have to split up my parents’ wealth when I can take it all for myself.”   “Why you!” Aunt Marie stands up, face reddened. “Ingrate!”   Her hand raises, arm extending back. But before she can slap you like she wants and knock your head to the side, Taehyung snatches her wrist. He’s faster than anyone can blink and he clutches her back, glare boring into her skin.   Her teeth grit and she rips back her hand to her chest.   You rise to your feet, eyes placed at the god awful antique cabinet on the other side of the room. “If that’s all everyone wants to say, then you can leave now. Thank you for coming to the funeral but from now on, none of you have permission to enter this estate until I announce otherwise.”   Your aunt scoffs and with her remaining pride, she stomps out. Hoseok’s brows are knitted together at a loss while your uncle is already trying to reason with you. But you leave through the doorway and allow Taehyung to take care of the rest.   //   The streets are full in the afternoon bustle — hooves clacking as horses pull the street car, ladies with parasols giggling as they cross, shouting coming from the tenement windows above, wheels of the carriages rolling along the dirt. It’s the symphony of the city. But he leaves it all behind for a short carriage ride away.   It’s a short uphill climb on foot that follows, but he swiftly gets to the magnificent mansion on a stretch of green behind black gates. It’s quaint here.   A girl in a maid ensemble scurries over and opens up the gates for him. “Right this way.”   The man is led up the path and he removes his top hat as he enters.   The manor is darker on the inside, the wallpaper a deep shade, black trim matching the hardwood. He knows every inch of this place is ridden with wealth, from the chandeliers, the ornate carpet underneath his feet to the glass cabinets full of antiques. It’s old money that will last for centuries.   But he doesn’t get to admire it for too long. A taller man with slicked back hair wearing a black tailcoat approaches. “If you’d follow me, sir.”   He nods and silently shadows the butler to the west wing. They twist down the corridor before turning a left to two large doors. The butler opens them and he hesitantly enters after.   There’s a figure behind the desk at the very back wall, an inked pen in her hand. He muses that the lady looks much too young to be residing so deep inside of this mansion surrounded in papers in the low lighting. She might be even younger than himself.   “Taehyung, stay.” You mutter out of the corner of your mouth before he can leave.   The doors shut and you finally look up as Taehyung takes his place beside you.   “You are Detective Jeon?”   He has brunette hair and brightened doe eyes, rather boyish looks overall. But you know better than to underestimate anyone simply based on appearances.   “Yes, ma’am. I am Jeon Jungkook from the Bennett Detective Agency.” He comes up to you with his briefcase in hand and gingerly places a business card on the desk. “I believe you contacted me for a private investigation.”   “Yes. I did.” You stand, going to the seating area and he follows suit. “Would you like tea?”   “No, ma’am. I’m fine, but thank you very much.”   You nod, noticing how Detective Jeon’s eyes flicker to Taehyung who comes to pour your cup.   He finally asks, “How may I be of service?”   You take a sip, savouring the flavour on your palate before placing the floral porcelain cup down. Your expression is indifferent as you sit back. “As you may have heard, my father and mother recently passed away in a railway accident.”   “I read it from the newspaper. My condolences. Your father was a very charitable man and did a lot for Trulia.”   “Yes, well, they left behind a will and revealed that I happen to have a half-sibling that is to inherit this estate.” It goes silent. A pin could drop in the room and echo. You inhale a breath and continue, “I want you to find this sibling of mine and tell me who they are, where they are, and what they’re doing. If you can do it, I’ll pay you a generous sum. However much you want. However long it takes.”   Detective Jeon nods. He doesn’t seem too surprised or curious. You suppose he must be used to this sort of thing in his line of work.   It was through your connections that you found him. He’s an upcoming private detective, but what he lacks in experience, he makes up in tenacity and foresight. He’s the best that Trulia has.   “Do you have any leads?”   You hum. It’s remarkable he asks that. You’ve been thinking about it — picking apart every single memory, all instances there could have been a hint, each time you could have been blinded to such a secret. “I don’t have any leads, but I have suspicions.”   The detective leans in closer, doe eyes placed on yours.   “I believe my sibling may be older than me and I believe contrary to any initial hunches, it may be my mother’s child.” Maybe your father knew and something had happened. Maybe he was ridden with guilt and that’s why he decided to give everything to your sibling.    “I remember, years ago, my mother came in one drunken night and she told me about her previous lover. She was supposed to marry him and they even ran away together, but my grandparents found them and she was forced to marry my father. It’s possible that she may have had a child with him before I was born. And it may be possible he came to the funeral.”   Detective Jeon takes out his notepad and begins scribbling. He bobs his head and you inhale a staggering breath as you continue to talk. You never thought you would have to divulge into your parents’ secrets after their death, that you would have to reveal all you know to a stranger. But you have to do what it takes if you want to find this person before your aunt and uncle do.   “I saw a man about your height. He looked old, about fifty or so. He put a rose at my mother’s casket and left without speaking to me. I have never seen him before in my life.”   “Did you see anything else about him?”   “Nothing that would be helpful. He had brown hair, but he was wearing black as everyone else was. He left before I could get to him.”   “Did your mother ever tell you anything else? Where they ran away to? What they were planning to do afterwards?”   “No. She only ever spoke to me about it on that one occasion.” Frankly, you’re not sure if you want to know, but you push past the thought. Detective Jeon notes it and something prickles in your mind. “If you can, I want you to also look into Park Jimin as well.”   His eyes lift off his paper.   “He’s a gardener that works at this estate,” you tell him. “He’s always been close to my mother.”   And unusually so. She never cared much for the help, but you’ve seen them walking together before and conversing on numerous occasions.   “I’ll see what I can do for you.” The detective smiles and once the conversation concludes, he takes his briefcase.    “Oh and Detective Jeon.” Your voice stops him on his way out and he turns. “It would be best if no one finds out about this, namely my relatives. They can be quite...nosy.”   He looks at you and smiles. “Understood.”   Taehyung sees him out and you take a moment to recline back into the armchair, gandering at the many bookcases lining the walls. You never thought you would one day sit in your father’s study like this. He was in here more often than any other room and somehow, it always seemed so big when you were a child.    Taehyung comes back within minutes and you can tell by the expression on his face that he has questions.   The corner of your mouth tugs and you languidly bat your hand. “Ask away.”   “What are you planning to do when you find them?”   “I’ll kill them, of course.”   You get onto your feet, slowly rounding the desk. There’s a glass paperweight on the surface and you pick it up to fiddle with it. There’s a floral print inside and it catches the light no matter what direction you turn it to. You gave this to your father for his birthday one year.   “I can’t return to being that naive person like you hope I will, Taehyung.”   You’re not children anymore. As much as you wish, you can’t go back to that simple time.   “I know.”   You twist on your heel, looking him straight into his eyes. “Then will you help me?”   He closes the distance in two strides and leans down to take your other hand. His plush lips kiss against your knuckles and he swears his loyalty yet again, “I’ll do anything for you, mistress.”   //   The next afternoon, you gather the entire estate’s servants together — the cooks, kitchen workers, maids and footmen. They look nervous at the sudden impromptu gathering, glancing at one another and quietly murmuring.   You clear your throat loudly and their attention is taken.   “As you all know, recently my father and mother, Mr. and Mrs. Arden, have passed away. And I have become the new head of household. You have done a well enough job to be here and your services are much appreciated. For those who came to give their condolences at the memorial, it is something I will not forget. However, your loyalties must belong to me, not to my late parents.”    There are worried glimpses exchanged and you begin to pace in front of them. “As I am now the lady of the Arden estate, I would like to begin anew.”   You can’t afford to feed so many mouths, considering all the wealth is frozen. You’ll be paying with what you personally have until you can find a solution with Mr. Kim. Not to mention, you’re not sure who can be trusted, who your uncle and aunt have already persuaded. The last thing you need is extra eyes and ears in this house.   “From now on, Taehyung will be the manager of this household. He will see to it that the household will still function. If you have any questions, ask him. If you have any concerns, then ask him. He will come to me with whatever he cannot solve.”   “Few of you will stay and I thank the rest for serving this house for so long. I will make sure your severance pay is generous enough until you will be able to find work elsewhere. If your name is called, you may stay.”   Taehyung, standing behind you, begins reading from the list. One of the three names called is none other than Jimin himself.   The gardener smiles out of relief, eyes crinkled into half-moons. “Thank you, madam.”   You nod and once it’s done, you leave for the study as Taehyung takes care of the rest. You don’t want to stay around to see disheartened expressions or hear pleas to stay. So you’re resigned to watch out of the upper windows instead.   You’ve allowed them a few days to leave, but some are already taking their exit with their belongings with them, tearfully looking back at the mansion. It’s difficult but it needs to be done.   “My lady…”   You hear Taehyung come from behind you. You shift away from the window. “You’ll help me look for new help?”   “Of course.”   “Do you think four maids and one cook will suffice?” You count on your fingers. There’s already Jimin taking care of the gardens, you kept one maid so he’ll only have to hire three, and there’s a trustworthy kitchen maid too. It’s not like you need that many hands to take care of the estate. “Or will you need more help?”   “That’ll be fine.” The edge of Taehyung’s mouth pulls. “I could technically do it all, if you’d like.”   “And have you fainting on me from exhaustion?” You notice lint on his coat tail, so you come up to him and gently dust off his shoulder. “I think not.”   Taehyung’s sly smile tugs. “Do you consider me delicate?”   “No. But I am,” you clarify, looking up at the man. “If you’re not here twenty four seven attending to me, then what would be the point of having you around?” You brush past him, mumbling, “Can’t have you in the kitchen when you’re supposed to be by my side.”   The man stifles back a laugh to himself, yet his grin is all too evident. “Yes, madam.”   You glare at him over your shoulder, but it reminds you, “Tell the new help not to call me madam. You know I don’t like it.”   He puts his hand over his heart and bows exaggeratedly. “Yes, young mistress.”   You scoff. The title is not that much different and he knows it too. He always knows how to be cheeky, but you let it go because he’s Taehyung. It’s not like you can ever be upset with him for long.    He’s already won before the game’s begun.   //   A few days later, there’s a knock at your door.   It’s unusual. Taehyung never knocks and your suspicions are confirmed when an unfamiliar girl is sticking her nose into the room. “Umm...pardon me.”   It’s an unfamiliar girl in a maid ensemble, a black dress with white trim and a ruffled apron with a headpiece. Her hair is dark and shiny, features sharp. You assume she must be one of the new ones. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t find Butler Kim, I just wanted to let you know that Mr. Kim, the lawyer— I think, is in the parlor. He instructed me to tell you that he’s brought it.”   You nod and get up. But you stop for a second and come eye to eye with the girl. “What’s your name?”   “Jane.” She smiles to herself as if she’s happy you’ve made a note of it.   “If you could clear the teacup from the table.”   “Oh! Certainly!” She rushes over and you don’t linger.    True to what’s been told, the middle-aged lawyer is sitting in his chair and he staggers up as you come into the room. “It’s good to see you well, Y/N, and that you’ve taken charge of this estate so well.”   “Thank you.” You motion to the armchair. “Please, sit.”   “I brought your parent’s business expense reports as you asked.” Mr. Kim takes it from his briefcase and hands you the thick folder after settling down. “I didn’t think I would have it until I remembered there was a box in my office closet meant for this sort of thing. My office ended up branching out and opening a professional accounting firm a year ago, you see, so we no longer do bookkeeping.”   You flip open to find your father’s writing, then pages of Mr Kim’s. The reports match up with what he says. It stops a year ago. You might need to get into contact with Yoongi to find the more recent expense documents.   “Thank you for this. It will be very helpful to me.”   The lawyer nods. “Anytime, child. Now about what you talked to me about last time….”   “Yes, how is that coming along?”   He sharply inhales. “As I suspected, it will be difficult to challenge the will in court, Y/N. It hasn’t been done before and it may be costly. For now, my first submission is still in process, so we’ll have to see if we can even speak to a judge. I’ll let you know how that comes along.”   You’re grateful he’s still of help to you. He's older than your father is, but you suppose he must enjoy his line of work to not retire at this age. “Mr. Kim, if I may ask a question. Were...you aware that I had a sibling?”   The man smiles sadly. “Unfortunately, I was not. The will was sealed and I was simply entrusted to read it to you all. It took me by surprise as much as it did for you.”   If you didn’t know, the family lawyer wouldn’t either.    You wonder how many other well-kept secrets there are in your family.   That night, you look over the documents while burning the midnight oil. As usual Taehyung insists that you head to bed when the grandfather clock chimes past twelve, but after you tell him to go retire first, he stays silent beside you.    Taehyung’s too stubborn sometimes, but you don’t tell him his company is pleasant to have.   “Huh.”   “What’s the matter?”   “I didn’t know my father donated to St. Andale Orphanage.” You squint, reading the barely legible writing. You don’t remember that happening or it being posted in the newspaper.   “It must’ve been done anonymously,” Taehyung comments and you make a noise in agreeance. But it’s strange. Your father always liked to have his name on donations so that people would know and it would be written in the newspaper. It’s not like him to go quiet and he gave quite generously too.   “I’d like to go to the orphanage tomorrow.” You look up at Taehyung. “In the morning.”   “I’ll arrange that for you,” he says with a smile.   You close the books. “I’d like that man to join me as well. My father’s worker, Min Yoongi.”   At that, Taehyung’s brow quirks. “For?”   “He was close to my father, right? He might know something I don’t.”   //   The orphanage is a worn brick on the south side of the city in the poorer area, yet it somehow looks to be holding up well. It’s unlike the other buildings around that’s crumbling. You wonder if it’s your father’s doing that made this place half-decent.   You can hear the laughter of children in the plot of grass fenced in. You watch them at the distance while strolling the perimeter with Taehyung to your left and Yoongi to your right.   “It is quite cloudy today.”   “It looks like winter is coming soon.” Yoongi looks at you. “If you’re cold, we could go inside.”   “No, it’s quite alright. I don’t get to enjoy the cold weather often and it can be nice.” You turn with a small smile. “I might be like my father in that way.”   “Yes, I remember he told me he quite enjoyed the snow.” His eyes gloss over, reminiscent. “Your father was a very respectable man.”   “He was a good businessman and an even less attentive father,” you hum and feel Yoongi’s gaze on your profile, but he doesn’t get a chance to reply. “I’m sorry to ask you this, but did my father ever speak about his private life, Mr. Min?”   “Yoongi is fine. But no, not frequently at least. I only remember he once told me about flowers he was going to get for his wife before he headed home and I remember he spoke about you a few times.”   “Me?”   “Yes.” Yoongi offers a polite smile. “He told me that you were quite talented in your personal studies.”   You take a glance at him. There’s not a single trace on his expression that lets you know he’s lying or exaggerating, but you still find it hard to believe. “In his will, he gave me a pocket watch. I was hoping you’d know more about it. It’s gold and without any designs or engravings—”   “Gold?” Yoongi gives you a peculiar expression. “The company doesn’t make gold pocket watches.”   “Pardon?”   He explains, “We found that the profits weren’t worth the costs, so what’s used is silver, bronze, ceramic or even glass. In the third collection, there were some gold watches, but you said there weren’t any designs or engravings on it?”   “There’s nothing.”   The corner of the man's mouth pulls. “Mr. Arden must have personally handcrafted it for you then.”   Your brows furrow. You’re not sure how you feel upon hearing that, so you cast a glimpse to Taehyung who’s been quietly listening and he smiles at you. Yoongi clears his throat a moment after. “I wasn’t planning on telling you this, Miss Y/N, but considering it’s about your family, I think you have a right to know.”   Your head turns over in alarm. “What is it?”   “Your cousin, I believe, Hoseok. He’s been….showing up to the company often. He’s been wanting to book a meeting with me for a week now and he waits until I’m done working to try to speak to me. I suspect he wants to take over the business.”   You’re not surprised. “I’m receiving that kind of pressure in regards to the wealth and estate, Yoongi, and a hundred times worse. I think you have it in you to handle my overbearing cousin.”   Yoongi laughs from his chest as if he already figured you didn’t have any real solution. But based on your answer, it’s allowing him to do whatever he wants to that cousin of yours.    A few minutes pass before an older woman emerges to the field. “Children! Children! It’s time for lunch! Come along now!”   Another woman comes to invite you inside, so you follow after them into a room where they’re serving soup and loaves of bread. You watch children as old as fifteen to as young as three line up one after another. It’s both sad and heartwarming to see so many sparkling eyes in hunger-pane frames.    “Today’s food was given to us by Miss Arden and Mr. Min, can everyone give a big thank you?”   There’s a chorus of ‘thank you’s throughout the room and toothless grins from boys and girls.   When a woman struggles with carrying a box inside, Taehyung comes to help and then Yoongi. They’re supplies that you donated out of your own pocket, clothing and some blankets — it’s not much but still better than nothing.   “I want more!”   A pitched voice of a four year old boy in drab clothes knocks you out of your train of thought and you shift towards him. His friend adamantly shakes his head.   “No! ‘Member what Sister Emmy said? You only get one!”   You step forward, lips parting but before a single word can escape—   “Here you go.” An older girl with soft features and her hair pulled back in a frayed ribbon has spun around with an extended arm. Her loaf of bread is in hand. The boy blinks owlishly at her and she beams. “You can have it.”   “Thank you!” He takes it and the two boys run away.   “That was very kind of you,” you speak up and she turns around, startled that someone saw. You smile at her, lowering yourself to match her height. “You can have more bread. There should be enough for the next few days.”   Her eyes light up. “Really?��   You don’t like children much, but this girl seems to be intelligent and mature for her age. “What’s your name?”   “Rose, ma’am.” She bows her head awkwardly, rather well-mannered. “Thank you for the food.”   “I’m happy to help when I can. Can I ask how old you are?”   She counts on her fingers for a moment. “I believe twelve, ma’am, but I’m not sure.” As you frown, she quickly explains, “My mother died when I was young and I’ve never met my father, so I don’t know for certain how old I am….”   Her voice becomes quieter and quieter as it goes on and you realize she’s ashamed.   “That’s quite alright. I don’t have parents anymore either.” You muster a smile and the corner of her own mouth tugs. It’s pleasant to talk to someone who doesn’t know you, someone who doesn’t have any ulterior motives. “What do you like to do, Rose?”   “I don’t do much. But I like to cook! And churn butter. I also like collecting eggs and making milk.”   You hum. “How would you like to come back with me and work at the house?”   Her eyes open wide, irises practically glistening from the afternoon sunlight coming through the windows.   You’re normally not so impulsive, but you have a feeling she’s wasted here in the orphanage where she’ll have to work in a factory soon or get married by fifteen. Your mother always warned you to pick and choose the people around you carefully, and this girl seems trustworthy. Or at least, you can see capability.   Taehyung was even younger than she was when he entered the house for the first time. He must’ve been six or seven. His dad worked for the household and so did his dad’s dad — a whole lineage that made it inevitable that Taehyung would follow too.   Rose comes home with you three hours later.   You take it that this kind of affair customarily doesn’t happen so quickly judging by the head lady there being overwhelmed by the generous offer of taking the girl. But the process was most likely sped up considering your well-known status and Rose’s enthusiasm at the promise of a private room, food each day, and a high pay at the end of every month. She was more than happy and practically begging the woman she knew well to let her go. And the woman was happy too — even thanking you for giving her a home.   You’re not sure if it’s much of a home. But it’s yours.   “This is...enormous.” Rose gasps as her eyes lay upon the manor, lugging her small case of belongings by her side. “I-I mean, thank you, ma’am. I will work very hard!”   Your lips tickle into a small smile. “I’m glad.” The three of you enter and she gawks at the place. “Taehyung will show you where you’ll stay in the maid’s quarters and what will be expected of you. I’ll give you time to settle yourself, so don’t worry about anything for now.”   “Thank you, ma’am!”   “It’s right this way.” He guides and she tottles after him. You sigh softly with a smile as you watch the pair. He was amused when you told him that you wanted to take her home and he followed your instructions without much protest. Hopefully Taehyung will let her know that you’re not keen on being called ma’am or madam.   You’re about to retire to your room, but you’re stopped on your way by Jane.    She fiddles with her fingers nervously. “Miss, um, there’s, uh…”   “What is it?”   “There’s a guest in the parlor. He came about an hour or two ago and he insisted on staying until you came home.”   You hold in your sigh, wondering why it’s so hard to take a rest these days. “From now on, do not allow anyone inside the house when I am not here unless said otherwise.”   She flinches at your tone and dips her head. “Yes, my lady.”   You make your way to the room to find out who this uninvited guest is, and your brows furrowed in confusion when you see the backside of an unfamiliar man. He’s dressed in a sack coat with a matching waistcoat and black trousers. He must hear your footsteps since he turns around and instantly gets up, jaw gone slack.   “You must be Y/N,” he murmurs in awe. “You’re even more beautiful in person.”   The man comes to you and takes the back of your hand, placing a kiss against your knuckles. You eye him the entire time. “And you are…?”   “Oh, I apologize, I hadn’t realized I didn’t introduce myself.” He takes off his top hat and presses it to his chest. “I am Mark Carter. I believe your uncle may have spoken about me previously.”   You vaguely remember something about meeting his friend’s son, but you can’t quite pinpoint the details. Your expression remains stoic and unimpressed. “Is that so?”   “It’s an honour to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.”   You guessed this would have happened, but you didn’t know it would come so soon. Being the head of the Arden Household and unmarried at that, it’s only natural that others will come after you.    It would be wise of you to consider it as well — the only way you can collect the temporary inheritance is through your husband. But as silly and naive as it might be, you want to marry for love and not convenience. And it’s the one thing you won’t allow yourself to give up on.   “Like what?”   “Pardon?”   “What have you heard about me?”   Mark clears his throat. “Well, I have heard that you are as intelligent as your father and as beautiful as your mother, no less than a red rose blossoming in the morning dew of spring. And I must say, those rumours do not do you justice, Miss Y/N. You far exceed any poetry that could possibly be waxed.”   The corner of your mouth curls in amusement. Admittedly, it’s nice to hear such bold and blatant compliments once in a while, even if they are exaggerated and likely crafted by your uncle. “While I am wholly flattered, Mr. Carter, is this what you came here to tell me?”   The man’s posture straightens. “I came to ask permission to court you.”   You nearly choke on your own spit. You’re taken aback at the man’s shamelessness, not sure if he’s dimwitted or simply brave. “Meaning?”   “I would like to send you letters every so often if you grant me permission and perhaps if you’d be inclined to take strolls with me.”   You’re not sure how to answer or what to say, but you’re starting to feel your impassive expression crumble. You muse it’s impressive your uncle found someone as overbearing and insistent as he is. “Can I ask why you want to send me letters? We’ve never met before.”   “Actually, we have,” he says and blinks. “At your father’s charity function two years ago.”   You scour your mind, but you can’t recall. Every charity function you attended, you just remember sneaking out food for Taehyung and sitting together outside looking at the stars.    Mark reads your expression as he realizes that you can’t remember and his face falls. “It hurts me that you can’t remember the encounter but no matter.” He suddenly takes your hands and you lean back to create more distance. “If you let me, Miss Y/N, I promise you that you will not be disappointed.”   “Mr. Carter—”   “I have not been able to forget you since that night.” You wonder why he didn’t look for you sooner then if he felt so passionately about an encounter you can’t even remember. But before you can ask, he comes closer to you, forcing you to take a step back. “If you give me a chance, I will grant your every wish.”   He’s crowding you, intruding in your space, larger than you are.   Your mouth parts, trying to utter out a word, but it’s not necessary. A looming shadow comes over Mark, draping him away from the light.    It’s Taehyung with a menacing expression — his lips drawn together, eyes practically burning holes. He grabs the back of the man’s coat collar and yanks him away from you, finally giving you space to breathe. “Please do not lay a hand on her ladyship, good sir.”   “W-Who’re you?!” Mark looks between you and Taehyung as if expecting you’ll tell him to leave him be. But you don’t move whatsoever.   Your butler offers the man a stiff smile that has your own mouth curling upwards. “Uninvited guests are no longer permitted in the Arden estate. The maid that you let in was inexperienced. A mistake like that will never happen again. So unfortunately, you will have to leave now until you receive a proper invitation.”   “Wait!”   You stifle back a laugh when Taehyung physically picks him up, nearly throwing him over his shoulder.   The man struggles and his cries echo throughout the manor as he’s taken away, “Put me down! Stop! You idiot! You’ll hear from my father about this! How dare you!”   Taehyung throws him out of the estate and you’re finally able to breathe a sigh of relief.   When he comes back, he dusts off his hands with a more pleased expression. “What would you like for dinner, mistress?”   //   The next time someone visits, it’s not uninvited.   “Who are you?” Jane has stopped in the middle of her path, duster in hand and scrutinizing the doe-eyed male in the foyer. His brow lifts at the girl, but before he can come up with an answer, Taehyung appears from the corridor.   “Right this way, sir.”   The man in his coat nods and walks away, yet the maid is still curious. Her eyes follow the stranger’s form and she murmurs to Taehyung, “But who is he?”   “Her lady’s affairs don’t affect you,” he coldly deadpans. “It would be better to attend to your duties than ask questions.”   “M-My apologies, Butler Kim.” Jane dips her head and turns around, but she still steals a glance over her shoulder with a pout and a huff escaping through her nose.   Taehyung comes inside the study to find you and Detective Jeon going through what he’s found.   “I looked into Park Jimin like you asked me to.”   “What did you find?”   Detective Jeon flips open copies of documents. “He was born and raised right here in Lennox, never stepped foot outside of Trulia. His parents are immigrants from the East, still married and living together on the West side of the city in a tenement. His father worked in a landscaping company and his brother, three years older than he is, is a wagon craftsman.”   You go through the papers and sigh after a moment. It doesn’t seem like he’s the one you’re looking for. Well, you suppose you’ve ruled out at least one possibility.   “He’s as boring as they get,” the detective says. “But I did find something...peculiar.”   “What is it?”   “That man you wanted me to search for, the one who came to the funeral, I think I might have found where he is.” Detective Jeon hands you another worn folder from his briefcase and you eagerly untie the string to look at the pages inside.   “An intern at your father’s company actually spoke to him briefly and I found the inn he was staying at in Lennox. Spoke to the lady there and went to the train station. I have a connection with someone who manages the books and they found a train ticket. There’s more to it, but I won’t bore you.”   His name is Arthur Kahl. There are small details of him written, how he’s in his fifties, where he lives and a drawing of him sits amongst the documents. Your brows furrow. This is him — there’s no doubt about it.   “He’s an artisan. A woodworker,” Detective Jeon tells you. “Lives in France, in a town called Colmar, but he grew up here in Lennox.”   Your eyes flicker up to Taehyung and then the detective. “Thank you for this.”   He offers a smile. “It’s all in a day's work.”    Shortly after, Detective Jeon is escorted out by the butler. His eyes are perceptive but his senses are even more keen. He takes a glance at the taller man. “Your name is Kim Taehyung, right?”   Taehyung’s brow quirks. “I think you already know the answer to that.”   Detective Jeon boyishly smiles. “Is it alright if I ask a question? It might be intrusive.”   “Then don’t ask.”   “But see, I’m much too curious.” His steps slow while the two men come outside where it’s harder to eavesdrop. They stop on the front path of the manor leading towards the gates. “It might be the reason why I ended up in this line of work. Can’t give up on something once it’s in my head. I just have to know.”    There’s a pause. Then, he doesn’t hesitate any longer. “Do you perhaps fancy Miss Y/N?”   Detective Jeon’s doe eyes sparkle in the sunlight.   It’s a subtlety that can only be noticed through careful observation.   But he’s seen it — through the way you allow the butler to stay in every private conversation divulging the secret details of your family. How he always knows what you want without you needing to speak a single word. You’re in rhythm with one another and always taking glances when the other person isn’t looking.    Jungkook has seen many things. But never a master and servant so close to each other.   “That is an intrusive question.” Taehyung’s expression remains impassive. “My devotion goes beyond such kinds of frivolous and fickle emotions.”   His mouth quirks. “Why don’t you do anything about it then?”   “It’s not my place. I merely grant her wishes and fulfill my necessary duties.”   “So you’re holding yourself back on purpose?”   “That’s enough questions.” Butler Kim continues walking. “You’re a detective. If you’re that curious, I’m sure you can figure it out.”   “You’re right.” Detective Jeon grins, led out the gates, yet he turns around one last time. “But if you’re willing to do anything for your mistress, would you kill for her?”   His expression hardens while Jungkook flashes another smile. It’s not the kind of question that is waiting for an answer, so the other merely walks off, down the path and away from the estate.    //   You’ve only ever left Trulia twice in your life.   Once on a family outing when you were five or six and another time for just a few days when you were accompanying your father on a business trip. You’ve never had the chance to see much outside of this country and it’s a wish that you never spoke to anyone before but Taehyung.   There was simply never a chance for you to go. And while you expected your next journey out of Trulia would be an adventure and perhaps seeing new sights, you suppose this is a good excuse as well.   “Can you please pack another dress? I don’t want to run out when I’m there.”   Rose enthusiastically nods and goes to your wardrobe to pick another gown. While Taehyung is the one who would ever pack your suitcases, you don’t want to rely on him too much. He was already preparing the rest of the things for the trip and Rose seemed more than happy to help.   “The blue one will be fine.”   She nods and folds it into the case as you look over the gloves. “How long will you be going for, miss?”   “A few days.” You look up at the twelve year old and the corner of your mouth tugs. “You’ll watch the house for me? I don’t want any roaches to crawl in while I’m away.”   Her head bobs up and down. “I’ll try my best, my lady.”   You smile, noticing Jane looking into the room. She realizes you’ve seen her and clears her throat. “Do you need any help, my lady?”   “No, I’m fine, thank you.”   It’s nerve-racking to leave the estate and Trulia. You trust that a few days won’t bring things into chaos, especially considering that you’ve kept your affairs discreet. But underlying the unsettlement is a buzz of excitement — that just for a short while, you can escape.    You feel that way even a day later when you’re at the train platform. And whatever you were afraid of is washed away with Taehyung by your side.   “Stand right here. I’ll only be a moment,” he tells you, holding your tickets to Colmar and you nod.   Your hand grips the suitcase as you overlook the bustle of people. You’ve never seen so many gathered in one place before, families and lovers parting ways, children rushing past, the conductor quickly pacing to the front of the platform. It’s dizzying to look at and overwhelming to be in.   You wonder if you look out of place in the mass of people. You chose to wear a white dress with a natural silhouette, a bustle pad underneath and a bonnet around your half pinned-up hair. It’s modest attire, but the threads are still expensive. The last thing you would want is to attract needless attention and that’s why you made Taehyung wear a normal white waistcoat and black frock coat with matching trousers than his usual stiff tailcoat. He looks rather nice in normal clothing anyhow.   As you think about Taehyung, you start to search the crowd.   The red and black painted train whistles, smoke coming from its chimney. It looks like it’s about to leave soon, but you’re not sure if you should go in or where you would even sit or put your luggage. It’s been so long since you’ve been on a train, you don’t know what to do.   The endless questions and uncertainty drains blood from your face and you start to panic.   Until Taehyung comes into sight.    “What took you so long.” You frown at him but he still has the audacity to smile.   “My apologies, I had to check if we were at the right platform. Let’s go.”   He takes your suitcase and offers his arm which you take.   Taehyung keeps you from being swallowed by the thick crowd and pushed back. His height looms over even most men and although his stature is lean, he remains steady. Once you’re at the doors, he puts down the cases and holds your hand to help you up the step and then he resumes by your side, cutting through the passenger cars.    The two of you pass the more luxurious sleeping cars and as you peek into the window of the car of commoners, wondering if that’s where you’re heading, he slides open the door of a compartment.   It’s a private booth with a large window and a ledge overtop for your suitcases.   “Here we are, my lady.”    Taehyung organizes your belongings as you sit down on the plush seat. A moment later, the train begins to move, wheels rolling against the rail and then it builds speed to chug along.   You watch houses flash past the window.   “What do you think?” he asks, sitting opposite of you.   “Is it supposed to be so nauseating?”    Your head is light and the world is dizzying from the fast motion of the train. Taehyung must see your weakened expression with the way his eyes widen in alarm. But you quickly lift your hand and try to reassure him, “It’s fine.”   It isn’t. And he knows it.   “We can get off the next station.”   “No!” You inhale a deep breath, calming yourself. “We have to go. We have to make it, Taehyung.”   You shut your eyes. There’s no way you can turn back now. “It’s probably because I haven’t been sleeping well.” Not when you’re up day and night taking care of what your parents left for you, even if it’s only temporarily. And not when you’re kept awake plagued by the secrets of the people who were supposed to be closest to you. “The herbs in my tea can only do so much.”   Suddenly, you feel the seat dip beside you and your eyes flutter open to see Taehyung. He reaches over and gently guides your head to lean on his shoulder. “Then sleep. Don’t think about anything else.”   The corner of your mouth curls. “You make it sound so easy.”   “I’ll watch over you.”   A noise is made at the back of your throat and you allow yourself to mold against Taehyung’s side, your head cradled against the slight slope of his broad shoulder. As you ease, your fingers slowly drag itself over until you graze the back of his hand. No words are needed. No explanations are necessary.    Taehyung flips his hand so that his palm faces upwards and his fingers entwine with yours.   Within a few minutes, your chest begins to rise and fall, soft breaths escaping your parted lips.   Taehyung’s eyes stray from the windows to watch you.   You’re cold and blunt, carrying yourself with an intimidating demeanour that either frightens others or causes them to despise you. But he can still see the traces of your childhood self, even if the recent weeks have forced you to harden. Taehyung knows that you’re still sentimental, that you’re affectionate, that you’re not as indifferent as you’d like to be.   He knows you’re still grieving for your parents.   The two of you grew up together after all.   Since young, he’s been told he’s talented for this line of work, but devotion was another matter. He was told that being a butler meant more than just serving — it meant protecting. And he swore his duty to your name that day you took the blame when he stole from the kitchen and you got slapped by your mother.    He can still remember your small frame standing in front of him. How your words didn’t waver.   Taehyung knew it then and he knows it now — there’s nothing more important than protecting you.   His mouth tugs and his eyes lift from your sleeping features, but something catches the edge of his vision. Taehyung looks up to the window of the compartment door and finds a man, blue eyes, blonde hair curled in front of his forehead. The stranger peers into the compartment and when he notices Taehyung’s gaze, he dips his bowler hat as if to shield himself.   Taehyung moves.   He cradles your head until you’re laying down fully on the seat and he quietly slides the door open.   “Excuse me.”   Taehyung moves past someone, eyes darted on the man who peeks over his shoulder and quickens his steps.   He had seen the man before — earlier on the platform and then again when he left you alone. Taehyung came back right in time. You hadn’t noticed the man behind you at all.    Taehyung quickens his steps, stalking after the man who looks over his shoulders once more. His strides hasten. He practically breaks out into a run. Taehyung chases after him as the train curves into a tunnel. The windows are blackened, darkness sweeping throughout the cart.   He hears staggering breaths pulling roughly out of lungs and at the same time, the train rushes out the tunnel. Light breaks through the windows again and the steel door at the end of the cart begins to close. Taehyung sees through the tiny gap where panicked eyes meet his own gaze.   Taehyung runs.    He throws open the door and the cold wind rips through his hair with the intensity of a storm. The wheels shriek against the rail. There’s only a tiny step before one would have to make the jump to the other cart’s door. In between are violently rattling metal links that connect the two carts.    “Hah!”    There’s a squeak of shoes behind him. Taehyung ducks. The door slams closed.   The man’s arm is extended midair, having missed Taehyung’s cheek and within a blink, Taehyung grabs his arm and twists it. The man shouts in agony, teeth gritted. “Why you!”   His fist swings and it manages to catch Taehyung’s jaw. He’s knocked back, tasting a surge of coppery blood.    Taehyung wheezes, but his lips curl into a smile. He launches himself forward as the man squares himself. An arm swings. Fist curled. Taehyung dodges.   Taehyung takes the opportunity, no longer on the defense, and he swiftly strikes.   The man stumbles back, air ripped out of his lungs, eye sure to bruise.   Taehyung steps forward, but the man grabs something within his coat.   “Step back!”   Taehyung’s met with the muzzle of a revolver and puts his hands up, calming his breath.   The man snorts with a sly smirk. “Yeah that’s right. You’re just a dog.”   But then Taehyung's left hand clutches the man’s wrist and he contorts it at an angle, knee coming up to slam into the man’s stomach. Instantly, the man keens and wheezes.   He cries out as the revolver crashes onto the links connecting the carts and falls beneath to the rails.   Taehyung grabs the man’s collar and holds him backwards, nearly off the train. The man’s eyes become rounded in fear. There’s a storm of verdant in the background, fields and trees darting past.   “Who are you?!”   “Let go of me! I...I swear, I didn’t want to do this!”   “What do you want with her?” Taehyung demands, shaking the man whose head nearly touches the steel rails. The man’s fist curls on Taehyung’s so he doesn’t fall. “Answer the question!”   The shout is torn from Taehyung’s throat, his face crumpled into unadulterated anger, jaw clenched.   “I-It was her uncle!” the man quickly spits out in fear of his life. “Seokjin! He hired me! He wanted me to kill her!”   “So you were planning on putting a bullet through her head?!”   “I-I just needed the money! I’m sorry! Please, please,” the man pleads. “You don’t have to do this. W-What has that girl ever done for you? You’re just her guard dog!”   Taehyung has a deadpan expression, eyes dim. He begins to release his hold on the man who audibly sighs of relief. “That’s right.”    But it’s too soon.   “Don’t you know dogs are one of the most loyal animals?” Taehyung grabs the man again as he stands and throws him off the train into the soft meadow. “Woof.”   The man’s scream echoes. Taehyung dusts off his hand.   He comes back to the compartment to where you’re still sleeping and resumes his spot with your head in his lap, finding a warm blanket to drape over you.    Six hours later, you wake up, rubbing your eyes. He smiles and tucks a loose strand of hair in front of your face behind your ear. But your sleepy daze shatters when you see his split lip.   Almost immediately, you’re leaning over to Taehyung, grazing the wound with your thumb.   He sharply inhales.   “What happened?” you demand, worry written all over your face.   It hurts to smile, but can’t resist it. He should never admit it — he likes it when your attention is solely on him. “I tripped.”   You look at him incredulously. “Taehyung.”   “I did.” He doesn’t give up the excuse no matter how much you prod and pry.    The train arrives in the town of Colmar shortly after.   It’s a quiet place with a certain dryness to the air in spite of the river running through the town and underneath the bridges. The homes are tightly knitted next to one another. It’s a cozy kind of atmosphere. For a moment, you can imagine your mother having spent her life in this place and you’re not certain how to feel.   You decide to stay in an inn near the square, dropping off your suitcases in your given room.   “We should find him, shouldn’t we?”   You turn from the window to Taehyung with an unreadable expression.   “We don’t have to,” he says and it’s all too tempting. You want to forget that you’re here looking for your mother’s old lover, that you’re searching for your sibling. You wish you can pretend that this is merely a trip to enjoy with Taehyung in a place far away from Lennox.   But even if you were to dream such a thing, the truth would not stop plaguing your mind.   You muster the strength to shake your head. “We can enjoy ourselves after. There’s no point in putting it off.”   “He’s an artisan. A woodworker.”   The detective’s words ring inside your head.   “Lives in France, in a town called Colmar.”   It should be difficult to find the man — that way you have a legitimate excuse to put this off. You wouldn’t have to confront your parents’ secrets. Or meet a brother or sister you never wanted.   “But he grew up here in Lennox.”   Yet this town is small and there is only one known woodworker. If such a thing as fate or destiny exists, then it never stops being cruel to you.   The bell rings as the door of the shop opens.   “Hello there! How can I help you?”   There’s an older man behind the counter busy at his shelf, brunette hair and features tender, wrinkles creased around his eyes to mark each smile he’s collected over the years.   You come towards him with Taehyung by your side. “You were at my mother’s funeral.”   At your murmur, the man turns around wide-eyed. Arthur Kahl, the man your mother loved, who she wanted to marry and be happy with. The father of your sibling.   “You’re Hana’s daughter….” His mouth draws open. “Wh-what are you doing here?”   “I came to see you. I think you may have answers to my questions.”   “I-...I don’t know if I do, but please, sit.” He hobbles to the front of his shop, turning the sign over to not receive any more customers and the both of you sit on wobbly chairs. He knows you came this far, that you searched for him. There’s no other way you could have found him. “I’m sorry I never spoke to you at the funeral. I thought since we didn’t know each other, there was no point in bringing back old memories.”   “Is it true then?” You look at him carefully. “About my mother and you running away together…”   “That was a very long time ago.”   “Then why did you come to see my mother?”   “It was a long time ago, but I still wanted to pay my respects. Your mother...was a wonderful woman and treated me kindly. I’m glad she ended up having a good life and a happy family.”   The corner of your mouth twitches.   He continues, “While I never personally met your father, he seems like a very respectable man and a good husband. I’m truly sorry for your loss.”   The words sit uncomfortably in you. Your parents always seemed to treat each other with mutual respect and trust. It was never a passionate affair like pairs you’ve met, but rather a quiet relationship of sitting alongside one another. You never would have guessed your mother had someone else.   But you don’t want to know anymore about your mother’s history.   “I received my parent’s will a day after their burial.” You inhale a breath, bracing yourself. “And it promised my sibling the estate and the company. I don’t want to harm them. I want to fulfill my parents’ last wishes. So please, allow me to meet my sibling.”   Your eyes meet his earnestly. The man stares back at you, his brows knitting together.   “My apologies, but I’m afraid there’s a misunderstanding. I don't know who your sibling is.”   The clock on his shelf ticks loudly.   “Your mother and I never consummated our relationship.”   //   The night sets in, matches hissing into a flame and thrown into the wood in the fireplace until it awakens and paints the room in a warm orange hue. The quietness is deafening outside of the crackle and pop of the fire.   You haven’t eaten. You don’t want to. You don’t think you could stomach it.   “My apologies.”   You’re seated at the rounded table in the chair, motionless. You should’ve never come. You should have just stayed in the estate instead of trying to dig around in the secrets of your family, into the reasons why nothing was left for you, why they didn’t love you even after death.   “But I’m afraid there’s a misunderstanding.”   You came here for nothing.   “I don't know who your sibling is.”   Your efforts were worthless.   “Your mother and I never consummated the relationship.”   There’s an ear-splitting crash that rings the four walls.    Taehyung opens the door, eyes darting to you. You’re hyperventilating, clutching the handle of your suitcase, all your belongings fallen on the ground beside the wall. You toss the case aside with a frustrated cry.   He calmly shuts the door before anyone in the inn can pry and closes the distance in two strides.   “It’s okay.” He opens his arms and he engulfs your quivering frame.   You grasp onto him, your hands twisting into his white shirt. “I-I don’t know what to do, Taehyung. I...I really thought I had it. I was preparing myself—”   You were preparing yourself to meet your sibling. To confront it all. For once, you were ready.   The frustration cripples you blind and angers you.    How much longer will you be left in the dark? How much longer do you have to look like the fool, a child fumbling in her parent’s history searching for the truth? Why did they do this to you?    Why?   “You can cry,” Taehyung murmurs.   And tears finally slip from your eyes to stain his shoulder.    If it wasn’t for him, if he wasn’t here, you might have lost your mind by now.

[deactivated4179291]

Star Crossed - Part 18 (H.S) AU - “All I Need”

Maddie’s POV

If Harry weren’t already in the entertainment industry, I would have suggested he pursue a career in that line of work, given how much he loves to make people laugh, and how much he loves music. By now the car was filled with song and attempted dance on Harry’s part. In his defense, it was kind of hard to dance in a carseat.

“Harry!” Robin squeals with laughter, throwing her head back against the leather headrest. “Do the face!” she says kicking her legs excitedly.

“Wha’ face?” Harry asks, acting as if he doesn’t know what she’s referring to –sarcastically of course.

“You know what face, Harold!” She points at him in acquisition. Her blue eyes squint in a serious manner, though she’s really trying not to laugh.

“Oh, you mean…this face?” he goes wide-eyed while my sister watches him from the mirror.

”Noo, the other face!” she throws her arms up in aggravation with a dissatisfied huff.

“Ohhh, you mean this face!” He exclaims, doing…well, that-

“Yes,” she says though she can barely get the words out as she is in tears from the amount of laughter erupting from her lungs. I only know all of this – their actions - because in between getting lost in my thoughts, I would glance in the rearview mirror between songs. Whenever one of the songs ended Harry would flick through channels, until he heard a song he knew, or liked. Once the song they were just listening to ended, he started flicking through channels again, and when I heard the familiar tune of one of my favorite songs I reached out and ceased his movements. He looked at me, and smiled. I cleared my throat and pulled my hand from his wrist.

“I uh, I like this song,” I muttered.

“Alright,” he nodded fondly, but even with my eyes glued to the traffic in front of me, I could feel a set of emerald eyes on me.

In truth, it was a song that I listened to a lot when coming to terms with the fact that I was in love with Harry. When things were going so horribly wrong with my mom and with her stupid husband. When I realized all I had ever needed was him. I needed air to breathe. He was my air. Obviously I love my mom but right now thinking about her only brings me sadness or makes me frustrated.

Do you know where your heart is?

Do you think you can find it?

I feel Harry’s stare grow from that adorable smile to that look someone gets when you cannot tell if their concerned or just surprise, or even both. My eyes flitted over to him brief to find him looking more surprised than concerned, before paying attention to the words again.

Do you know where your love is

Do you think that you lost it

You felt it so strong but nothing’s

Turned out how you want it

For the longest time in my life, I didn’t believe love could last. I loved my dad so much yet he was ripped away from us because of someone else’s poor judgment.  I thought love was the most powerful feeling in the world until that night, when nothing turned out how I wanted it.

Well bless my soul

You're a lonely soul

Cause you wont let go

Of anything you hold

I wouldn’t let go of my act. Wouldn’t admit to Harry how I really felt about him. It made me feel so lonely, even when I was always around him. Whenever I heard this next part my mind always flickered back to what I said to Harry the night I told him I loved him – “Harry, you’re my air.” I couldn’t help but sing this part.

“Well all I need is the air I breathe

And a place to rest my head,” I felt both sets of eyes on me, surprised by my sudden outburst, even though it was quiet. I think Harry had caught on to what it meant, because I felt his soft fingertips graze the exterior of the denim on my thigh. It wasn’t a sexual connection, it was more of his way of touching me since my hands were occupied by the steering wheel. It still made my stomach grow full of butterflies, as they bounced against the walls containing them within my abdomen.

All I needed was him, and to rest my head against him. Rest my heart in his hands. When we reached the next red light, I sighed, resting my left elbow against the window, and my face against my palm while my foot occupied the breaks and my other hand clamped the steering wheel.

“Do you know what your fate is

And are you trying to shake it

You're doing your best and

You're best look

You're praying that you'll make it,” I shake my head slightly at the fact that these words applied so literally to my life. My faith was shaking within my soul, because of the danger behind the very fact that I loved Harry. Even when I tried my best to shake it back into place, or Harry did something to try and soothe my apprehensive heart, it never seemed to finish the job. It meant everything to me that he tried so hard to put my mind at ease out of how he felt about me. I put on my best face for him, my best efforts at pretending I was okay, when I was begging God to let our love survive.

The song goes on yet we all grow silent as Harry squeezes my leg gently - surely in an effort to get me to open up to him. To get me to cut through the silence. When the song finally ends, Robin takes it upon herself to do just that.

“Well, that was a bummer,” she mumbles, looking down and clasping her hands. I laugh lightly at her comment, and scrunch my brows as I search for something to raise her spirits through the speakers. I knew if I hadn’t, Harry would have filled the air with all of his concern given to him by the fact I wouldn’t look at him. He uses his hand to try and pry my attention towards him by rubbing my thigh, while I admit it’s making it more and more difficult to focus on the cars in front of me, or even my hand messing with the radio, I somehow manage not to give in.

Hey Ya by Outkast starts blaring through the entire car, and Harry sighs, giving up his hand on my thigh, he goes back to dancing.

“Now this is a bloody party song!” he chants to Robin. He throws his hand behind his ears like jazz hands and asks me, “he does this, right?” I glance over, only shrugging in response, before turning down the road towards the park near our old home.

My chest grows tight as I pull my car into the parking lot of the community park of old Blackhill Drive. Just a few miles down the road, you could surely find my mother in her Garden, frantically pulling out weeds as she comes to realize what she’s done to my sister and I.

Once I throw the gear in park I undo my seatbelt and swing my door open, and just as quickly swing it shut once I’m standing one the damp pavement. My arms fold over my chest as I walk to the front of the car and peer over to see Harry lifting Robin out of the car like an airplane, landing her feet on the concrete while his actions bring a beautifully bright smile to the young girl’s face. She runs straight ahead to the empty playground with her small feet pounding against the grass just inches ahead of the car.

As I walked to the bench, avoiding Harry’s interrogation, though it was a harmless interrogation, I spotted a distinguishable head of long brown wavy hair. I skeptically make my way to sit next to the figure, only to discover that I was right. Her head shoots up from her hands as she hears Robin’s laughter echoing from inside the large plastic slide ahead.

“What are you doing here, mom?” I sigh, not looking at her, but instead staring straight ahead at the metal contraption Robin had found so much enjoyment running around on.

“Its her birthday, Maddie,” she sighs, “I knew she would want to come here. You and her always did when you were kids,” she says lightly, placing a hand on my shoulder, I wince, but can’t find it in myself to push her away. I needed her right now, I needed her to tell me what I didn’t know. She pauses briefly, before continuing, “you know, when Daddy died-“

“You brought me here every year for my birthday, I know,” I interrupt her, with a groan and a heart full of sadness.

Robin appears from the bottom of the slide, sprinting over to the swing set, she trips briefly on the mulch, making me flinch. “Be careful, love!” I hear Harry boom sweetly from beside me, before he sits down next to me, with his eyes that never failed to show me kindness boring straight into mine. I looked away before he could ask what was wrong.

“Listen, I know you’re mad at me,” my mother spoke with a sigh, making Harry peer around me out of surprise – not knowing she was here. He seemed to understand why I was so distraught in that, moment, though and took the car keys out of my right hand before grabbing it with his left hand. He intertwined my small fingers with his ring-covered ones, and I instantly felt a slight relief wash over me, before she went on, “but, it’s her birthday, Maddie. I promise, not to try and take her from you. I know now that you’re right – not only are you and Harry what’s best for her right now, but you’re what she wants. What kind of mother would I be if I took that away?” she asks shaking her head, when I finally look at her, “all I’m asking for is just an hour with my daughter on her birthday. You guys can go, maybe get something to eat, and I’ll stay here with her,” I open my mouth to protest, but she insists, “please?” she begs, her sad eyes on the verge of tears.

“Okay,” I reluctantly agree, “one hour, not a minute more, and not a minute less.”

“Thank you,” she reaches out to hug me but I lean away from her. She instead pats my shoulder lightly once, before looking back to where Robin is trying to swing. Robin finally realizes my mother is sat behind me and her jaw practically falls off.

“Mommy?” she asks with her eyebrows to the sky. She walks up and gives our mother a confused hug.

“Robin, do you want to spend some time with Mommy today?” I ask brushing a wild strand of her hair behind her little pale ear. She nods, with a small smile.

“Okay, Harry and I are gonna go get something to eat, we’ll be back in an hour,” I press a kiss to the top of her wild head of hair, rising from the bench, with Harry’s hand still tightly wound around mine. As we make our way back to the car, no words are spoken. We stand in front of the driver’s side when I pull my hand from his and hold it up for the keys. He looks disinclined to give them to me, but does it anyway knowing that I wasn’t in any position to argue with him about it, which I appreciated so much about him. He always knew when to leave certain things alone and when not to.

I slid into the seat of the car and shut my door whilst Harry did the same next to me. His voice tears through silence before I even reached to put the keys in the ignition. “ ‘m proud of you, y’know?...you did something really good back there, love.” He nodded, reading me with his eyes.

“Thank, you,” I say under my breath, placing the key in the ignition. I feel fingers wrap around my wrist and draw my grasp from the keys, and a palm placed smoothly to my left cheek, turning my head to the right. When his lips pressed against mine almost instantaneously, it was all I needed to calm my nerves. His hand traveled from the side of my face to the back of my head, tilting it in his grasp to deepen the kiss. As thing grew more intense, I felt heat rush through my body. My hand reached out to clutch his shirt tightly, pulling him even closer as our above the middle of the center console. Though his shirt seemed expensive, he didn’t seem to care. Just as he was about to slip his tongue between my teeth he pulled away groaning, bringing his soft raspberry lips to my ear, brushing against it as he spoke, “You know, the windows are tinted on Liam’s car.” I could hear the hunger in his voice.

I pulled back, almost breathlessly and looked at him. His eyes were no longer the light jade colors that they always brightly shined with. They had grown to a dark, forest tone which breathed desire.

“Not here…we’re supposed to be leaving, remember?” I raised a suggestive eyebrow to him.

“Well, then I suggest you get us the hell out of here, before I tear your clothes off, and throw you in the backseat,” he rasped, smirking. Surprisingly, rather than blushing like I normally would, I only returned the suggestive smile on his face, which made him raise his eyebrows further, and lick the corner of his mouth.

“Sorry, Harry, I’m afraid I’m all Robin’s today, and I’m not sure what my schedule looks like tonight,” I shrug innocently, turning the key in the ignition, before backing the car up, and pulling the vehicle off onto the road.

Harry’s POV

“Trust me, you’re in for quite the surprise tonight,” I mutter quietly.

“What was that?” Maddie asks, while paying close attention to the road.

“Oh, nothing…” I sing-song, shaking my head. I had put together something really special for Robin’s birthday last night when I found out about her turning ten. The other night, when she, Maddie, and myself sat around watching movies, an ad for that newest Disney movie about the girl looking for the bloke covered in tattoos, with the little pig. I think her name was Moana? I don’t know. But the point is that Robin’s face lit up at the sight of the advert.

“What is it, little bird?” Maddie asks her, sweetly.

“Look! Look at the beach!” Robin exclaimed pointing her small finger at the screen. Her heads hangs slightly as she turns to face her sister, “I miss the beach Maddie…” she sighed.

“I do too, Robbie,” Maddie sighed, pulling her in for a hug.

“What beach?” My curiosity got the best of me. Maddie smiles fondly at a thought before explaining, “Silverlight Beach,” she smiled lightly, “when we were younger, my mom used to take us to the beach for Robin’s birthday. The first time I ever went to that beach was to be apart of the pictures of my mother when she was pregnant with this little troublemaker,” she says pinching Robin’s cheek lightly, receiving a cute little giggle from the small girl in return, “she was almost nine months pregnant, but someone was a bit eager to join the world… she went into labor twenty minutes in to our little photo shoot.

Robin was almost born on that beach, because obviously at the age of ten I had zero experience delivering babies. Luckily there was a beach ranger that came by, and helped me get mom to the nearest hospital. We went back to that little beach every year after that…” she says fondly with a sad sigh. “I’m sorry mommy didn’t take you this year, Robin,” Maddie says, looking down at her lap. I placed my hand atop hers out of instinct, trying to soothe her sad heart. I hated to see her – see my girl cry. She deserved the world, but the world was only ever cruel to her.

“That’s okay, Mads,” Robin looks up at her sister, with an understanding smile, “You and Harry are here…which means I want to be here too,” the almost-birthday girl said, nuzzling back into her sister.

I wouldn’t have traded that moment for the world. Which is why I told Maddie I was going downstairs to record, when the reality was I was researching beach houses to rent for the night, so that we could still bring Robin to Silverlight Beach. Upon my research I found that it was a mere hour drive from the house, and I wanted nothing more than to put that huge smile on her face on this - her special day.

The plan was, while Maddie and I were out with the birthday girl, the lads would put the finishing touches on her bedroom, to surprise her with when we went home. I had already packed clothes for both Maddie and I in my brown duffel, just to get that out of the way before surprising the two of them because I wanted there to be as little work for the pair of them as possible. Now all there was left to do was wait until we took Robin home to surprise the girls.

Maddie’s POV

We arrived back at the park exactly on time. I meant what I said –one hour was all my mother would get today. Robin hugged mom and said goodbye, before hopping into the back seat.

“Alright, birthday girl what’s next?” I ask.

“Can we go home and paint our nails?” she asks hopefully.

“Sure, little bird,” I smiled to her before driving back to the house.

“So, I have a confession,” Harry says, as we all walk towards the front door.

“What’d you do, Hazza?” Robin sighs like a scolding parent, making me laugh, as we step inside the door.

“Well, I’s not something I did, Robin…but, while we were gone, I had Niall and Louis do something for me. Come on,” he ticks his head towards the stairs. He leads us up to Robin’s new room, and kneels down to her height. “you ready?” he asked, earning an excited nod from Robin. When he opened the door I couldn’t believe my eyes. Robin shrieked with joy as she scurried into her new room, spinning in a circle to take it all in.

“You like it?” he asks her, though he’s looking right at me. Maybe he was asking the both of us. Or maybe he was looking for my approval. It was perfect. It was so…well, Robin.

“I love it!” She hollers running up to him wrapping her arms around his leg, “thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!” she chants. Harry chuckles, patting her head lightly.

She runs over to Niall and Louis and thanks them what seems like a million times, hugging them both. Louis picks her up and swings her around yelling, “anything for our super special birthday girl!” as if it’s obvious they would do something like this. I look over to my boyfriend, who’s eyes are waiting to look into mine. I shake my head in disbelief at him, but not out of annoyance. Out of gratitude – He was this compassionate, generous person, and I was a stubborn problematic eighteen year old girl with daddy issues. I started to feel like I would never deserve him. Ever.

[aprofessorbhaer]

Black Butler/Kuroshitsuji Part 5

trigger warnings: anxiety, time period sexism, dead relatives,

Word Count: 1736

Part Five: Change

I awoke unusually early the next morning, considering I did it under my own power. Not keen to anger the master with possible tardiness, I got up and dressed without a reminder from Mey-Rin. She was not in our room, and when I went down to the kitchen, it was deserted as well. The fear that I had somehow overslept took ahold of me, and I quickly ate breakfast before venturing into the rest of the house.

The master had not yet called for his lesson, and I saw no one in the halls. I stopped to gather my thoughts for my next course of action.

“Mary?”

I spun around to see the young butler approaching me. “Yes, sir?”

“The master wishes to see you in his study.”

My stomach dropped with familiar dread. “Yes, sir.”

As we entered the room, I noticed that Mey-Rin, Finny, Baldroy, and Tanaka were all standing in front of a camera placed on the master’s desk. The master looked up and seemed to consider me before saying “Come and stand for a photograph, Mary.”

I was unsure what exactly that meant, but came forward. “Yes, my lord.”

The master disappeared under a black curtain attached to the contraption, and called out “Stand still for at least ten seconds.”

I obeyed. Once he came back from behind it, he commanded the other four servants to “Go and develop this photograph. Mary and I have business to discuss.” His employees scrambled to obey while he directed his attention to me. “Mary, just now I was telling Sebastian how I tire of hearing the violin, and wish to experience other instruments. Do you know what he said to me?”

I could feel a cold sweat on my skin. I couldn’t fathom where this discussion was going, but it didn’t seem good. “No, my lord.”

“He said that I knew someone who was proficient in another instrument, and if I so wished, I even had the opportunity to ask this person to teach me how to play as well. I, of course, assumed he meant you. Being a governess, you were likely trained in basic piano for the young ladies you taught. Such an instrument is hardly fit for the head of a household, which I told him. Do you know how he replied?”

I was starting to feel light-headed from nerves. “No, my lord.”

The master seemed to be enjoying himself. “He said, you were also a trained flutist! Now, I knew he must be mistaken, because even a servant girl must be aware that such a pursuit is only fit for men. So I asked him how he had come to know this. What do you think he answered?”

My hands were shaking again. I held them behind me. “I cannot say, my lord.”

The master stared hard at me. “He said, that I myself had seen you play. You had performed for us, at the dinner we held for that ignoramus Italian.” His eyes narrowed. “Would you care to explain how a young musician of the male persuasion and yourself could possibly be one in the same person?”

I cleared my throat for strength. “That day, I had been in the presence of Madame Red and Lady Elizabeth, my lord. For their entertainment, they sent me to your estate with a message to you from my lady.”

The master raised an eyebrow. “In male garb?”

I blushed. “My lady wished to be…diverted. I told her the story of how as a child I used to dress as my brother, and take his place. She…wished to see for herself, and Madame agreed.”

The master appeared unconvinced. “Indeed.” He was about to say more, when his door burst open. His servants had returned with the photograph he had taken of me. He looked at the picture, then held it out to me, asking “What do you see?”

I approached hesitantly. Taking the photograph, I said “I see myself my lord, and…” But I couldn’t finish my sentence. Behind the image of me stood a woman who possessed my dark, thick hair, pale skin, and tall frame, holding a baby in her arms.

The master looked at the people who had just entered the room. “Leave me and figure out how you will fulfill the job I assigned you.”

At the noise of their departure, I swallowed and looked up. “I see myself, my mother, and my brother, my lord.”

The master cocked his head. “Interesting. Did you know, Mary, that this photograph was taken by a camera that will show, in addition to the subject, the person dearest to them who is also deceased?”

“I did not, my lord. But that is a reasonable explanation.”

“Photographs of ghostly loved ones are reasonable to you, Mary?”

I looked again at the photograph. “I could not give you a better explanation, my lord.”

The master seemed unsatisfied, like my answer had been unexpected. “How did you take the place of a dead infant?” he asked bluntly.

For a few seconds I didn’t understand his question, but then I felt a pain in my heart when I realized. “My brother died at his birth, my lord, and the cost of birthing two babies at once in addition to the loss of one of them took my mother’s life. My father was very distraught. I realized, as I grew up, that I held a striking resemblance to my mother. This realization coincided with the discovery that my father had difficulty looking at me. I decided that if I was a boy instead, it might be better. So, I wore the clothes my father still bought sometimes, and he seemed happier. He called me by my brother’s name, and taught me what a firstborn would need to know.”

The master smirked. “So, you have a long history of crossdressing, do you?”

I looked down in shame. “Yes, my lord.”

“How did you come to have men’s clothes of your measurements for your recent performance?”

“I have not grown since the last time my father bought clothes for my brother, my lord.”

The master looked thoughtful. “I see. A madman, then.” He paused, then continued “Mary, you will teach me in your male clothing from now on. It will be much easier to explain away a male tutor than a female governess. If company should call, you will answer to…Martin. You will need to move your belongings to a new room, because you will now be living as a man. Tell the other servants that Mary has found a new job, and you, her brother Martin, will be taking her place. The fewer people who know the truth, the better. Go now, and return for my lesson.”

I could feel panic rise in my chest, but shoved it down to bow and say “Yes, my lord.” I left the room and returned to my own, packing my things. Luckily, I didn’t have much, and it all fit easily into the few worn suitcases I owned. I was just contemplating where I would put them while I underwent my transformation into ‘Martin’ when I heard a knock at the door. Opening it, I was faced with the young butler.

“I hazard to guess that you need a place to keep your belongings until you find your new room. Might I suggest keeping them in my chamber until further notice?”

I blushed at the favor, but could see no better alternative. “That would be very kind of you, sir.” I turned to retrieve my things, but somehow he was already carrying them. I hurried to follow him, apprehensive at the invasion of privacy I was about to commit, despite his permission.

When we had arrived at our destination, he put the trunks down and turned to me. “I would also imagine that you need a place to change into your new role. Feel free to use this room to do so now.”

I bowed. “You are too kind, sir.”

He smiled. “Not at all, my dear.” With that, he left, presumably to attend to his actual duties.

Once I had the room to myself, I sighed, sinking to sit on my sturdiest box. I would have to play my brother from now on. My dear departed brother. The role wasn’t a new one; I had played it most of my life, for my father. But at least that was a homage, in its own way. I did it to keep my brother alive, and my father smiling. Now, it would simply be a disguise, a blank mask.

I took a deep breath. Then I must make it more. I would live for the both of us; I knew how. It would be easy. Too easy. It may be easier than living only for myself. With that decided, I stood up, and began searching through my clothes. Everything was present; I’m sure I had Lady Elizabeth to thank for the inclusion of my male clothes. She likely felt it was the least she could do after her parents had released me from their service.

Once I had replaced my maid’s clothes for my suit, I cast around for something to tie my hair back, but nothing seemed appropriate. Glancing in the mirror cursorily, I decided I otherwise looked presentable.

I had opened the door and was turned to close it behind me when I heard “Good! You are ready.” Turning, I saw the young butler approaching. He stopped in front of me, smiling. “My master has renewed his request for his lesson.” His eyes traveled over me, taking in my new appearance. They stopped at my hair. Dipping his gloved hand into a suit pocket, he drew out a simple black ribbon.

Holding it out to me, he explained “I thought you might have need of this.” I reached out for it, but he withdrew his hand. “Allow me, miss.” With a gentle pressure on one of my shoulders, he turned me around. I felt him gather my hair up delicately, then bring the ribbon underneath and secure it. Turning me back to face him, he surveyed his work. Nodding, he seemed pleased. “Very good.”

I bowed lowly. “Thank you so much, sir. You think of everything.” Straightening, I saw that he was smiling again.

“Not at all, miss. I am merely one hell of a butler.” He then turned and disappeared.

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