✤ Home again

┋He felt anxious, as the servants rushed all around him. It felt surreal, like he was a part of a different world than them. He broke the stare into the mirror to catch a glance at the outside. The sun was blissfully heading to its sleep, and the world outside seemed to follow suit. Inside, a flicker of hope danced vividly, speaking its piece, that whatever resided in her, for him, had not followed the sun.

It had been five years since he had gone off to fight for his country., The war had left him bruised, marked for the rest of his days, both on the inside and on the outside. The horrors he witnessed, the dying cries and whimpers of his brothers in arms, all of that still haunted him and made his hands itch for a weapon. Perhaps that itch was the reason why, as soon when a hand touched him, he turned around in a flash and grabbed the man handing him his coat. He shoved a hand up his throat, and squeezed hard, before throwing him to the ground. The others rushed to the servant’s aid and pulled him away, yelling words and things he couldn’t hear.

‘Pace yourself, man!’ came a yell that broke through, accompanied by a slap to his cheek. His brother had dashed to him, unseen. Part of his brain questioned how could he let the enemy approach him unobserved. ‘What in the name of God are you doing?! You’re killing our servants!’

He looked at the man lying down, hands around his own throat, coughing, and he couldn’t help his own blood boiling. The rage was still there, after all.

‘Now, you’re going to meet the Duchess. I hope, fort ll of our sake, that your hands aren’t going to wrap around her neck as soon as you see her. At least wait until after the soiree, eh?’ his laughed echoed throughout the room, accompanied by the servants’ and it came over him, fuzzy and distant.

‘Oh, piss off, Michael, you womanizing prick. You’d toss your cock into the fire if it was warm enough.’ his retort came, as he spun around and stepped back to the podium, eyes in the mirror, carefully browsing every detail of his attire.

‘Oh, you know me too well, brother. Who knows..’ the voice died out, replaced by the sound of his steps approaching. ‘Maybe I’ve tossed my cock in the duchess’ fire too. Made her a woman, you know?’ his laugh was echoed by the servants again, as they trod around the room.

The words had barely escaped the man’s lips before anger surged and swallowed him whole, an angry wolf devouring an elk. His elbow sunk into a cheek, barely missing the servant’s nose, and his body twisted around. Without thought he lunged forward, towards his brother, hand jumping ahead. His fingers clung firmly around his neck, crushing into his skin, his brother’s trachea fighting to remain functioning in his grip. He dragged the man and smashed him against a wall, the entire force of loss pushed into that motion, as he drove his forehead against the bridge of his noise. The men in the room stepped back when the crack hit their ears and as he looked in his brothers eyes from an inch away, he could see the same flicker of anger fighting within. He grunted, and spit threw itself at his brother’s face.

‘Easy, easy!’ his brother pushed out, moving his hands up, palms facing him. ‘It was but a joke! I’ve not touched your duchess, man, Jesus! Why’ve you got to take everything so seriously?! You’ve broken my second best piece of equipment!’ he grinned.

He moved his hand back with a tug and turned to one of the servants. ‘Bring me my coat.’ he thundered at them. He grabbed it from one of their hands, his steps coming down hard against the floor as he rushed outside. The carriage ride went smoothly, disturbed only by the voices inside, missing their temper. ‘If he touched her with a thought, I’m killing him.’ he thought to himself.

Soon enough, the carriage stopped, and the anxiety he felt earlier at the thought of her surged back again, mixed in with his anger. He felt like taking a step, but the very next second, he felt like not. ‘Bollocks! Bollocks!’ he screamed at himself, as he opened the door.

In the brisk sunlight of the dawn she stood, her dress flowing with the waves of wind as her eyes laid on the carriage. Time stopped to a halt and the world around him froze. He stepped, firmly, towards her and when he reached in front of her his heart stood still. Yet, it managed to push his hand up, and he took one of hers in it.

‘My Lady. You’ve been missed.’ he uttered, his voice touched by a tone of raggedness, as he led her hand to his lips.┋

✠ Thank you to my wife, Ryanna, for the support and for posing! Check her Flickr by clicking on her name!

MY CREDITS:
✘ Suit ◆ Belle Epoque ◆ { Duke of Devonshire } Sky @ Fantasy Faire 2020, opening April 23rd!

RYANNA’S CREDITS:
✘ Suit ◆ Belle Epoque ◆ { Duchess of devonshire } Sky @ Fantasy Faire 2020, opening April 23rd!
✘ Hair ◆ Stealthic ◆ Somber
✘ Backdrop ◆ MADRAS ◆ Royal Entrance BackGround
✘ Pose ◆ RACK Poses ◆ Like A Sir!

Written by

Kulaan D. Dragon

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