Ending with a bang of 350 words- those dangling sentences again. It mostly ended up being notes today, but I’ll take it. Thank you everyone who followed along and sent me encouragement! I wish nanowrimo was not during the busy holiday season, but I managed my personal goal of writing at least a little bit every day.
And now for a hint of the actual plot of Impure after the cut. Hopefully one or two of you shall be amused ; )
They were in the western wing of the manor, opposite of where his family stayed, and Ryan cringed as he made himself say, without once looking at Madej, “This suite of rooms will be yours until the wedding.”
‘Wedding’ plopped in between them like an unsavory smell.
They both shifted uncomfortably, Madej running his fingers over the top of his head as he asked, “And after? Will I… As you’re a Lord, I assume- Will I have my own room?”
“Yes,” Ryan was quick to assure him. He shuddered to think of how awkward it would be to share a single set of rooms with a stranger. “Rooms connected to mine. They used to be my brother’s, but he has already moved elsewhere.” He quirked a smile and tentatively offered a joke. “Don’t worry, you won’t have to live with his idea of decorating. You’ll have complete control of how you wish the rooms to look, as well as a budget and-”
“I am aware of the budget,” Madej interrupted softly, before Ryan could fully commit to a nervous ramble. “It was a part of the marriage contract, after all.”
Ryan looked away, not quite willing to admit that he hadn’t actually read the damn thing.
“I was just unaware if I would have complete privacy or if my rooms would be open to yours.”
“Oh, you shall have privacy,” Ryan said, imagining this bookish man ensconced in a room filled with nothing but manuscripts and tomes. “No one will disturb you if you don’t want them to.”
“Not even the servants?”
Ryan hesitated, confused by the idea. Who would clean the rooms if not the servants? He knew his mother would whap him upside the head for the thought, but what was the point of being a Lord if not for someone else to clean and cook for him? “I… suppose? If that was something you wished.”
Madej offered a secretive grin, his eyes twinkling behind his spectacles like he was thinking of some joke. It was a surprisingly boyish and charming expression. If Ryan had seen it from across a bar, he might have thought it was attractive. “Every man needs a private moment or two, Lord Bergara.”
Unbidden, a blush rose to Ryan’s cheeks as he stared at Madej, completely dumbfounded by the words. From his friends, he would have enjoyed the ensuing ribald jokes and gladly joined in. From the betrothed he had met that very day? He had no idea how to react.
After a moment, Madej blinked, a splotch of red spreading across the bridge of his remarkably straight nose. “I didn’t mean it that way.”
Ryan bit his lip, trying to hold back the growing laughter at the man’s mortified expression, but it erupted out of him. He laughed so hard he had to bend over, hands folded over his stomach as he wheezed. It was a noise that was perhaps unhinged, but God, what a release it was to laugh.
"Right, well, I'll take my leave," Madej said in a voice that barely contained his own laughter. He took a step around Ryan, who straightened up at the same time, trying to move out of the way. Like something from a farce, they both went the same direction, only quick reflexes saving them from running into each other.
Ryan put his hand on Madej’s chest without thought in order to steady himself, his palm brushing against the silky fur and smooth leather of the man’s clothes that was warmed by body heat. From so close, all Ryan could think was ‘God, he’s tall.’ Their eyes met and Ryan was surprised to note the soft brown irises staring down at him.
Madej took a step back and Ryan stumbled backwards, the two of them dropping their gazes and stuttering out awkward apologies. As soon as he had ascertained that Madej did not need anything, Ryan retreated with haste.