loving you is a storm; beautiful when gazed upon yet a fright when inside it. we were meant to be but not meant to last forever. my love with always stay for you but i can not always stand behind it as it breaks me in ways i cannot stand to keep being broken.
Scene 6 Time wore out her innocence and burdened her dreams with reality... #livenovel #blog
The houses lining the other side of the street, and the tall Ashoka trees that stood along the brick wall that ran the length of the brick wall, cast long shadows over the backyard. Sunlight that slipped through the gaps fell in diagonal stripes in between the shadows and over the lawn and the rose bushes that encircled it. Yellowing leaves of the trees fell from the branches in the summer…
Alright, here’s part seven of the ongoing Touche series. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I’m going to post it under a cut as to not crowd your dash.
You can find this chapter and the others on Ao3 at the link below.
The kitchen smelled warm and welcoming of hot cakes and honey lemon tea. It was a beautiful smell that Miss Gertrude had come to adore in the mornings. Usually, she’d do all the baking and make tea before rousing her master and Ayer. It was easier to coax the sleepy heads to get up if there was a promise of a warm breakfast waiting for them.
This morning was a bit difference, however. Miss Gertrude had barely made it to the kitchen when Ayer walked through the front door. He smelled sweet of Lilac and sweat but there was something more under the surface. Miss Gertrude’s nose was sensitive enough to smell it.
Exhaustion filled the young buck’s posture but his eyes glistened of a foolish lad’s thoughts. These were the thoughts that kept a mind too active to sleep. Ayer agreed to sit up with Miss Gertrude while she made breakfast. She kneaded her dough and brewed some tea while they talked. Though, it seemed that all he could talk about was a steely beauty that had his heart.
Each time Gaspar stipend allowances out, that’s where Ayer would go. When he came back; he had all sorts of stories to tell. Four times, Ayer had gone to see the gray rat; Miss Gertrude and Gaspar had only heard the stories of this beautiful and very giving Lyrica that’s stolen his heart a hundred times or so and each time they’d listen anew with feigned interest. Miss Gertrude was just happy for the company, while Gaspar was losing his patience with all of it.
When his mouth was dry from talking and his tongue tired from wagging, Ayer sat quietly and looked into his barely touched teacup, eyes glazed over while Miss Gertrude talked about her night and her dreams. Miss Gertrude wasn’t sure when he’d stopped listening but knew that he was a million miles away by now. It was then, in the silence of that warm kitchen that Miss Gertrude’s heart sank.
Her Ayer was changing into something foreign to her and the reasons were nothing more than a farce unable to be seen through the eyes of the naïve. Ayer’s love, the one that he pined and pored over so fervently was nothing more than a lie. Every week he’d pour his hard earned money into something intangible. Lyrica may love him but only as a repeat customer to line her purse.
Miss Gertrude was well aware that the lass had bills to pay, they all did. She knew that it wasn’t malicious intent in that doe’s heart, it was just business. That was the way the world worked now. Francs, gold, jewelry, it greased the gears of the day to day life. Still, so many a young bucks wasted away on such fancies until they woke to find that they had nothing to show for it.
The auburn rat reached across the butcher’s block to rest her paw on his. “I’m sure Lyrica loves you very much, but maybe it’s time for you to step away from this whole thing and look at it from an outside perspective, Ayer.”
“An outside perspective?” Ayer mumbled.
“Ayer!” Miss Gertrude’s voice spiked, it caused him to jolt awake.
“I was…”
The auburn rat sighed and shook her head. “Maybe you should get some rest. I’ll wake you up around lunchtime.”
“Are you sure?”
“I insist, thank you for sitting with me, though. It means so much to me.” Miss Gertrude gave him a hug.
The smell of the other doe’s sex started burning into her subconscious like the linger smell of burning wood. It was fast becoming a smell that she associated with trouble. This was the first time, he’d ever come home smelling like her. Usually, Miss Gertrude was asleep when Ayer came home and he’d be cleaned hours before she got up but now, having her scent so close, invading her nose; it spiked a heat at the back of her ears.
Ayer pushed his face to her breast and squeezed tightly, a soft moan escaping his lips. It caused a pang of jealousy deep inside the auburn rat. A pang that she was forced to push aside for him. Any fool could see that Miss Gertrude had developed feelings for the young buck. They’d only grown stronger over the several months they spent together. She enjoyed spending her days working alongside him during chores, loved sharing her evening with him in quiet conversation. Even when all he could talk about was Lyrica, she could ignore it because she loved being close to him.
Miss Gertrude couldn’t stand the smell any longer; she kissed the side of his head and unfurled his paws from the small of her back. When he fell back, he teetered for a second before Miss Gertrude steadied him.
“Alright, off to bed with you,” She whispered softly, hiding her disappointment.
“Okay, there’s no need to shove.” He chuckled playfully before slipping down from his stool. “Good night, Gerty.”
“Good morning, Ayer.” She sighed as he disappeared down the hall.
Miss Gertrude stared at the darkness of the doorway for a long time. Despite everything, she missed his company the moment he was gone. She took a deep breath and sighed before tending to her business. She picked up a folded cloth on her way to the wood burning stove to pull the hotcakes out.
“More talk of Lyrica,”
Gaspar’s abrupt voice caused her to squeal as she nearly dropped the pan of hotcakes. She managed a quick swivel to set them on the stone hearth before turning to confront the sneaky old rat.
“You could have given me my death, you sod.”
“My apologies,” His voice was soft.
She could see by the disheveled look of his clothes, his bloodshot eyes, and the smell of booze and cigarettes that he’d been out on the prowl all night, no doubt watching after his ward.
“You followed him again, didn’t you?” Miss Gertrude had known Gaspar far too long to beat around the bush.
“So what if I have?” Gaspar leaned tiredly with both hands on the butcher’s block. “Can I not be concerned about my ward?”
“You think me a fool, master?”
“No, I…”
Miss Gertrude’s eyes teared up. “You pine for him as much as I do, if not worse. Every glance you send his way, I can see it. Every lingered sigh I hear from your study, I feel it too. This was to be our family, he was to be the missing component to our happy family and now…”
“Someone has driven a wedge between us.”
“No, you have!” Miss Gertrude threw the towel, hitting him in the face. “You introduced him to that element all for the sake of your own wants.”
“I…”
Miss Gertrude wiped her eyes furiously on sleeves. “Just go to sleep, old rat, let sleep and dreams drown my contempt for the both of you. We’ll speak about this more tomorrow.”
Gaspar stepped up to her and gripped her chin coarsely, bringing her eyes up to look into his. “I’ll fix this, you have my word.”
His wine soaked voice caused her to pull away. “How?”
“You leave that to me.” His voice rumbled in his throat.
Without another word, he disappeared through the door, leaving Miss Gertrude alone with her thoughts. The auburn rat slumped down on one of the stools and pressed her face into her paws. Her shoulders jolted with the force of her tears. This thing that started as a fanciful dream slid into the depths of a nightmare that she couldn’t awaken from.
***
The rest of the day was spent in silences. Nothing more than passing glances between the three of them. Miss Gertrude was embarrassed by her outburst to Gaspar and was too disappointed to look Ayer in the face. Ayer was embarrassed about the condition he was in when he came home early in the morning. Gaspar was guilty of so many things that he stayed in his study most of the day only coming out long enough to pen a note of payment to Mr. Mathers.
At dinner time, the De Laurente household smelled of roasted hen with nuts and bread crumb stuffing and wood roasted potatoes and cream. Miss Gertrude pulled the heavy pan from the wood burning stove and placed it in the center of the butcher block. The warm smell of rosemary and thyme brought the stragglers back to the party.
“You’ve outdone yourself, my dear.” Gaspar wore his charm as well as he wore his burgundy tunic with the bellowed sleeves.
He took her paw and bowed before spinning her like a graceful dancer. The plume of her lightweight pearl dress fluttered out around her, showing off her new lacy stockings that Gaspar graciously snuck out to purchase for her as a gift. She took his other paw and entertained a few waltzing steps. They both chuckled foolishly before she ended the dance with a curtsy.
“And as lovely as this bounty looks, it pales in comparison to you.” He bowed again, kissing the back of her paw.
“Easy, last time you spoke to me like that; I ended up face down in your pillows.” She caressed the warming crest of her ear.
“An old rat can dream can’t he?” The fond look on his face made her smile widen.
“Evening,” Ayer sidled into the room, taking a deep breath of the food. “Gerty, that smells amazing.”
“Thank you, Ayer. I know we all had a rough night last night and an even rougher day. I wanted to make something special, maybe even have a sit down dinner for a change.” Miss Gertrude took a serving fork and knife in hand.
“Allow me.” Gaspar politely took the towel resting on the butcher’s block and picked up the pan with the food in it.
The three of them walked across the hall to the dining room. The table had been set with the fine dishes. All the candles were lit, filling the room with a welcoming warm glow. Ayer eagerly pulled the chair at the end of the table out, allowing Miss Gertrude to sit first before he help slid her closer to the table. He settled into the seat on her left.
Gaspar set the heavy pan down, serving up food for everyone while Ayer poured glasses of wine for each of them. When everything was ready, Gaspar joined his family and they started to eat.
Most of the dinner was spent in silence with the exception of the soft sounds of silverware on the China and sips of wine. Gaspar was he first to break the silence.
“Mrs. Mathers, Geoffrey’s mother has taken ill again, I’m afraid.” Gaspar cut a piece of chicken away before tucking it in his cheek.
“Poor thing, she only seems to be getting worse these days.” Miss Gertrude took a sip of her wine.
Ayer remained quiet, his mind was elsewhere and it wasn’t hard for the other two to discern where. The older buck did his best to ignore it, sopping up some remnants with a crust of bread while Miss Gertrude poured him another glass of wine.
“Thank you dear,” He managed to push a mouthful aside long enough to respond.
“It seems the new harvest of berries will be hitting the market soon. You know what that means.” Gaspar chuckled.
“Berries, cream, and cake. Exactly what my waistline needs.”
“Lyrica loves berries and cream, I was telling her about those sweet cakes-”
“Do you think we can go one meal without hearing about Lyrica and the rainbows that fly out of her ass, please?” Gaspar’s eyebrows crooked sharply over his green eyes, though he didn’t look at Ayer.
Ayer’s eyes fell back to the food in front of him as he continued to eat in silence. Miss Gertrude could see the crest of his ear turning red. There was a storm brewing and all she wanted to do was avoid it.
Another few moments passed before Miss Gertrude spoke again. “Is your food good?”
Ayer took another bite, completely oblivious that she’s said anything to him. Gaspar took a deep breath and sighed out his frustrations. The auburn rat was quick to caress the back of his paw, trying to keep him calm.
Gaspar swallowed his mouthful of food and dabbed his mouth before speaking. “Boy, Miss Gertrude asked you a question.”
“What? Oh, I’m sorry. What did you say?”
“Nothing…it was nothing.” Miss Gertrude wiped her lips on her napkin before setting it beside her empty plate.
“I may regret this but where is your mind at, Ayer?” Gaspar rested his elbows on the table, leaning closer.
“I just have some things on my mind tonight.” Ayer’s voice grew soft against the older buck’s aggressive posturing.
“By things, you mean her, right?”
“Well, yeah, Lyrica’s very important to me and if she and I are going to have a life together, you’re going to have to accept us and our relationship.” Ayer’s voice spiked a few octaves higher as he pushed his plate away.
“Relationship, life together, do you even listen to yourself. You’re completely delusional about this romance that doesn’t exist.” Gaspar tried to choose his words reasonably to spare Ayer’s hurt feelings.
“Why are you being so unfair? She loves me.”
“Has she said before?”
Miss Gertrude gripped Gaspar’s paw tighter, she could feel his muscles tensing as she struggled to keep him from losing his cool.
“Well, not those exact words but that’s because I never give her a chance to say it first.” Ayer said smugly.
“Ayer, you’re living a fantasy. She’s a working girl, you pay her bills. You’re nothing more than another document to be filed, another sack of grain to be loaded into a cart.” Gaspar pulled his paw away, smoothing down the fur on the top of his head. “There’s no way she could love you, because she doesn’t work that way. If she falls in love, then the money stops rolling in.”
“Why are you being so unkind, she’s done nothing to you?” Ayer pushed away from the table and got to his hind paws. “There’s no need for you trash my dreams just because you squandered your chance at love on frivolous flights of fancy.”
“Ayer!” Miss Gertrude snapped but it was too late, Gaspar got to his feet.
“She is a whore, Ayer! All that matters to her is paying the bills.”
“You’re wrong!”
“Am I? Then you’ve left me no other choice than a hard lesson on this fact. Not another coin will I give you, so you can witness how fast her fire cools for you, once your well of money goes dry.”
“I’ll show you, old rat.” Ayer stormed out of the dining room, leaving Miss Gertrude alone.
“Fat chance of that, you little shit.” Gaspar snatched up the bottle of wine and hurried out of the room. Miss Gertrude could hear the front door slam.
“How was dinner, everyone?” She sighed softly before downing the rest of her wine, as well as Gaspar’s and Ayer’s.
Tears clung to her eyelashes causing the black mascara to run down her cheeks but she never fully gave into the sadness. Instead, she rose from the table, blew out the candles and headed to the larder. She plucked a bottle of Gaspar’s finest wine before retreating to her bedroom for the night.
***
Ayer was so infuriated that he’d not noticed the shadow following him as he stormed boldly along the street. His legs ached; his stomach churned from hunger and frustration. There was only one person that could make him feel better now.
The young rat ducked into the familiar crack in the wall. The red glow from the firelight behind the stained glass beckoned him in. The knock had become second nature to him now. The out of sync French national anthem was like a love song to him. Then the door opened and there she stood; her lovely eyes wide. All at once, his pain faded away.
“Ayer?”
“I need you,” Ayer whispered and took her paw. “I can’t go on another moment without your touch.”
“Oh, well, alright. Come on in, it’ll be fifty Francs.”
“Well, I don’t actually have the money-”
“What?” She turned to face him.
“I mean right now. I forgot my pouch, so I don’t have any money, right now but I can get it tomorrow morning and drop it off with Patricia.” Ayer felt his gut churn from the look on her face.
Lyrica shook her head and contemplated this problem for a few seconds. It was hard to concentrate with Patricia, whose face was red from the drink, slept loudly on the pile of pillows nearby.
“Alright…I’m not supposed to do this but you’ve been really good with payments.” She played along the hem of his sweaty tunic. “But you have to bring the money directly to me in the morning, alright?”
“Yeah, I…I can get it.” Ayer sighed softly as he leaned in close.
yrica pressed a finger to his lips and shook her head. “Not in here, come.”
Ayer slowed his pace in front of door three. He’d come to know it as Lyrica’s room. He was a little confused when she kept walking.
“Not in there, we’ve…there’s been an accident and it needs to be cleaned before it can be used again.”
Ayer’s heart sank deeper. He knew all too well why he couldn’t go in, she was a working girl after all and he hated that Gaspar may be right about her. But he was powerless when he looked at her beautiful face. She used her body to beckon him on blindly, leading him to the slaughter as if he were nothing more than another sheep. Lyrica pulled him into Patricia’s chambers, hanging a single red stocking from the handle before closing the door for the night.
***
Ayer was practically exhausted and stumbling by the time Gaspar found him. It wasn’t hard to guess where he was going. It was a road he seemed to travel all too often these days. Just ahead, the young buck disappeared into the crack that led to the Ruby Rose. Gaspar was half tempted to follow him all the way, to watch as he was rejected by the ‘love of his life’ but what good would that do? Especially while he stood in the street watching the one that he loved throw his life away on silly entertainments. Maybe that’s why the sting was all too real for him. Gaspar was as much a fool as the lad was, maybe even more so.
“Sir,”
Gaspar ignored the voice at first, downing a heavy gulp from the bottle of wine. That was when he felt a paw on his arm.
“Sir, do you have need of a scarf?”
“No!” He snapped harshly.
Gaspar turned to see a young buck roughly the same age as Ayer, standing next to him. The young buck’s accent was deeper than his smaller stature eluded too. His fur an uncanny blonde color that was almost similar to Ayer’s. If it wasn’t for the white spot over his right eye, the niche missing from his ear, and deeper voice, they could almost be the same rat.
“I’m sorry to bother you, sir. I’m just trying to earn some money for my mother and sister.
“No, my apologies young buck. I didn’t mean to speak so harshly.” Gaspar’s voice lingered in his throat as his eyes took in the sight of Ayer’s Doppelganger.
“It’s alright. It’s late and I shouldn’t be out bothering folks at this hour.” The lad started off across the road.
“Wait, why don’t you tell me about your scarves, Monsieur…”
“Monsieur, not likely, I’m just plain Toby.” He spoke earnestly and smiled.
“Very well, plain Toby,”
The lad giggled sweetly and Gaspar felt a tingle deep down inside. It stole his breath and his composure for a second.
“How much are you asking for one of your scarfs?”
“Well, I made them with my own two paws, so I can guarantee the quality. Is two Francs too much to ask?” Toby laid out four scarves along his arm.
They were indeed woven to perfectly, better than most he’d seen and they shown brilliantly against his dingy mustard colored tunic and brown trousers that were more holes than fabric.
“Just two, huh,” Gaspar fished ten Francs from his pouch and passed them over. “I’ll take all four.”
“Truly sir, you will?” The lad looked at the coins in his paw and paused. “You gave me too much, sir.”
“First of all, you have to stop calling me ‘sir’. My name is Gaspar.” Gaspar gripped the lad’s shoulders tightly. “Secondly, the craftsmanship and colors are beautiful. I’d be a fool if I passed up this purchase and a chance to tip the lad doing all the work.”
“Why thank you, s- Gaspar.” He chuckled foolishly and pocketed the money.
“No, thank you.” Gaspar took the scarves, wrapping one around his neck, while folding the others under his arm. “Toby, my lad, what if I told you I knew of a way for you to make tons of money for your family. It will be hard work but comes with lots of perks.”
“I would say; that’s a funny one, si – eh…Gaspar, then I’d laugh.”
“Oh, it’s true, my lad. Come back to my house with me and I’ll fill you in on all the details.” Gaspar wrapped his arm around the young buck’s shoulders as they started back towards his home.
“Will there be food involved?” The boy asked.
“Oh yes, you name it. Food, clothing, a bath, there will be enough for both of us to enjoy.”
“It sounds lovely.” The lad sighed dreamily.
“Oh, I think you’re really going to like it.” Gaspar whispered against the lad’s ear. “It’ll be a character building exercise for sure. I just have one question for you, can you make your voice higher in pitch for me.”
The torment of love has never felt more sublime than on Troubled Love, a luxuriant new song from 19 year old British artist Mullally. His crisp yet velvety vocals glissade with ease over the slick electro soul valleys and rousing pop peaks of the richly affecting ballad. It’s near impossible not to compare Mullally’s exquisite delivery with that of Sam Smith’s on the new addition to the musician’s growing repertoire of heart rending songs, paired with a Jack Garratt like extravagant soundscape. Troubled Love is available now from iTunes.
