Post by Liessel on Mar 13, 2024 11:52:25 GMT -5
The rain had let up only a few times through out the day, and now it seemed that those tears from heaven were symbolic, or perhaps an omen. If only she had taken it as Jostel trying to tell her something, if only she had had the wisdom to hear the word mistake writing itself out in the tapping of rain drops against the windows of her home.
Was she hopelessly foolish, or foolishly hopeless? She wasn’t sure. She didn’t know. But if asked, she would have bet on the former. But did it really matter anyway? Probably not. Standing in the room she was in, it felt like none of it really mattered. A waste of time, all of it. Every word, every smile, every forgiveness.
The room, at least, held some comfort for her. It was Gerold’s room, and while Cog saw to the cleaning of it and the changing of bedsheets, and while it was practically indiscernable from the other guest rooms of the house, Liessel knew that this one was his. The faint scent of his tobacco clung to everything as a mild reminder of the man who sometimes occupied the space.
She didn’t rifle. No drawers were opened or closed; no closet was gone through. She wasn’t there for that. Liessel had come for a different purpose to the old Frontiersman’s private space within the Knightsbridge house.
Her dress was slipped off easily, the tiny buttons down the front being worked free with practiced fingers. Next came her corset. Both garments were left draped neatly over the plush armchair that sat in a corner of the room. Her shoes, too, were tucked there and out of the way.
He was gone, so there were no eyes there to set on her as she crept toward his bed in her chemise and knickers. Would he have cared if he had been? That thought was shoved out of her head the moment it came to her. She didn’t want to picture him with any sort of protest on his lips. That wasn’t what she needed right then, even if she doubted it was what he’d actually do.
The blankets were pulled back, and Liessel settled in. She drew herself up tiny and tight there under the covers while the rain patted down the large windows across from the bed. There in the darkness of the room, swallowed by the shelter of the blankets, the world beyond that sanctuary was locked away. She hadn’t gone in there for anything more than what her heart craved: the memory of an embrace that had ended all too quickly.
[/i]
Was she hopelessly foolish, or foolishly hopeless? She wasn’t sure. She didn’t know. But if asked, she would have bet on the former. But did it really matter anyway? Probably not. Standing in the room she was in, it felt like none of it really mattered. A waste of time, all of it. Every word, every smile, every forgiveness.
The room, at least, held some comfort for her. It was Gerold’s room, and while Cog saw to the cleaning of it and the changing of bedsheets, and while it was practically indiscernable from the other guest rooms of the house, Liessel knew that this one was his. The faint scent of his tobacco clung to everything as a mild reminder of the man who sometimes occupied the space.
She didn’t rifle. No drawers were opened or closed; no closet was gone through. She wasn’t there for that. Liessel had come for a different purpose to the old Frontiersman’s private space within the Knightsbridge house.
Her dress was slipped off easily, the tiny buttons down the front being worked free with practiced fingers. Next came her corset. Both garments were left draped neatly over the plush armchair that sat in a corner of the room. Her shoes, too, were tucked there and out of the way.
He was gone, so there were no eyes there to set on her as she crept toward his bed in her chemise and knickers. Would he have cared if he had been? That thought was shoved out of her head the moment it came to her. She didn’t want to picture him with any sort of protest on his lips. That wasn’t what she needed right then, even if she doubted it was what he’d actually do.
The blankets were pulled back, and Liessel settled in. She drew herself up tiny and tight there under the covers while the rain patted down the large windows across from the bed. There in the darkness of the room, swallowed by the shelter of the blankets, the world beyond that sanctuary was locked away. She hadn’t gone in there for anything more than what her heart craved: the memory of an embrace that had ended all too quickly.
[/i]