“Did you get lost?” Celine and William
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Prompt: “Did you get lost?” / “How long have you been standing there?”
He couldn’t stand it, watching them make lovey-dovey eyes at each other. So he retired early, following Damien up the stairs and going right, crossing the hallway to his room. They didn’t speak a word to each other, despite the Colonel convincing himself that they shared frustrations.
Everything felt like it was falling apart, and William’s temper simmered at a low boil as he stripped his decorated coat off, then his shirt, tossing them haphazardly over the desk chair.
How could she just go and do that?
“You knew this was coming.”
“Gah!” William whipped, dropping his pith hat, which clattered to the boards and began to roll away. He stooped to pick it up. “How long have you been standing there?”
Celine’s arched eyebrow stripped him to his core, laying him bare for her scrutinizing gaze. She sauntered into the room, hips swaying, dress swishing about her ankles.
It struck William, suddenly-- not for the first time, more like the hundredth or the thousandth-- how beautiful she was.
“Did you get lost?” He prompted, gesturing to the door. “I think your boyfriend’s room is that way.”
She scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “Petty doesn’t look good on you. And neither does jealousy.” She softened, like ice cream melting in the sun. “I know you’re angry that he proposed to me.”
Now, it was William’s turn to scoff. “I’m not upset he proposed,” he said, averting his gaze from her lovely face to the less lovely floor. “I’m upset that you said yes.”
She reached out with one hand as if to touch his naked chest, to trace the scarred muscles there. Then she withdrew, seeming to remember her newfound status. He felt her warmth recede, and mourned it. “You never grasped that I love him, too.”
“Celine-” William started, but what was he going to say? She had already gone.