He was a confirmed bachelor, but there was something inside of him that still wanted for companionship.
Lord Pasquad, of a similar state, moved in.
“I heard you desired some companionship,” he said when he had been let into the parlor and served some refreshments. “One confirmed bachelor to another, I’m most sympathetic to your plight.” He reached for his clothings fastenings and toyed with the top button.
The confirmed bachelor across from him did not notice, instead pouring himself a rather hefty amount of spirits (in the early hours?) before deflating in his chair.
“It was not a plight in needing of sympathy, I thought,” the other man brooded, staring into the fire. It was mid day. Why was there a fire? “But then I met her.”
Lord Pasquad’s hands froze mid disrobing. “Her?”
“Her,” the other man confirmed. He laughed without humor, a dark and rolling sound. “Too brilliant by any measure, too cunning, too—too beneath my station. I should not be consumed by the thought of her glittering eyes or the smooth column of her—“
“Right,” Lord Pasquad said flatly. He set his clothes to rights with a few deft twists of his fingers. “You are not a confirmed bachelor then—simply an ornery one.”
The other man spluttered. “I—I never intend to marry—?”
“They never do,” Lord Pasquad said. He stood and, before the pining man could react, patted him on the cheek. “Invite me to the wedding anyway, won’t you? That might make up for the time you’ve wasted today.”
He saw himself out to the sound of choking, denial, and further emotional constipation.
ellievsbear
origamiaround
titsay
discoholicmusic
snowghoul
