The Mansion

Status
Not open for further replies.
His world is a regimen. Busy. It suits him. He's become a machine of sorts. Every ten minutes is precious. The maids, perhaps disappointed, have been neglected. Sadly, so have his few friends. A delivery sets at his door. A classic sure-strike typewriter. A few of the girls whisper about a bit of work he's hacked out.


No real sign for him otherwise. It's like he haunts the halls. A specter. Unseen.


Minus the solitary rose on the counter.
 
His world is a regimen. Busy. It suits him. He's become a machine of sorts. Every ten minutes is precious. The maids, perhaps disappointed, have been neglected. Sadly, so have his few friends. A delivery sets at his door. A classic sure-strike typewriter. A few of the girls whisper about a bit of work he's hacked out.


No real sign for him otherwise. It's like he haunts the halls. A specter. Unseen.


Minus the solitary rose on the counter.

She came quietly through the door, setting her keys gently in the crystal bowl, her briefcase on the floor. A hand slipped to the back of her neck, rubbing gently as she locked up the house, checking all doors. She stopped in the kitchen doorway to remove her heels. Flipping on the kitchen light, her eyes spied the solitary rose. A gift. From him. She smiled. Walking to the counter, she picked it up, raising it to her face, the petals brushing her nose and lips as she inhaled its fragrance.

He was busy. She knew that. She hadn't expected him to think of her, let alone leave her a gift. It made her smile and it touched her. His gesture means a lot. He is a good man. Taking a vase from the cabinet, she filled it with water and set the rose in it. The kitchen light flipped off, small feet padded down the hallway to the study where the rose was set on her desk, to admire in the morning. Lights are turned off before she progresses to the bedroom, the door closing behind her.

Her day is done. The world is calm and quiet. The promise of a new day looms.
 
*sneaks all the way back to the manor. A quick glance around to make sure she wasn't followed before she steals into her cellar and hides her collection jar of eyes.*
 
The house was quiet as she entered, closing the door softly behind her, tossing her keys gnetly into the crystal bowl that awaited them. A quick stop in the kitchen for a glass of ice and a can of diet root beer. Soft footsteps were heading toward the study. Her chair creaked. A pop can was opened and the sound of carbonated flavored water was poured over ice. Then silence reigned.

Feet were propped up in the desk, chair tipped back, her eyes were closed. Tension, stress, drained from her form. This was nice. Soon enough she'd go gaze at posts that required a reply, but just for the time being, she relished the peace.
 
He'll find a trail of her clothes when he comes in.....

.....and one of his white button down shirts missing from the closet.
 
He'll find a trail of her clothes when he comes in.....

.....and one of his white button down shirts missing from the closet.

Sneaks in suddenly, creeping up in Cait, and then biting down on her butt cheek. He grins victoriously as he runs away, fleeing.

Told you that I would get you...eventually.

Sticks out out his tongue and then closes the door behind him as he leaves.
 
Crickets were talking and so were the frogs in the forest that backed up against her property. She could hear them through the closed windows as she locked up the house, turning off lights as she went.

Quietly, she let herself into her bedroom, closing the door behind her. On feet that made no sound in the one room that was carpeted, she opened the sliding door that led to her private lanai. The crickets and frogs made her smile. It was a sweet sound. With moonlight filtering into the room, she stripped down, donned her usual sleeping garb and crawled into bed, careful not to wake M.
 
Status
Not open for further replies.
Back
Top