Amidst the exchange with Orpheus, Ilyas couldn’t help but wonder what his father would think if he knew his son was spending time in the greenhouse, engaging in a conversation that lacked the familiar aura of a lady’s company. The disapproving image of his father’s face flashed in his mind, and for a moment, a sense of rebellion tinged his thoughts. However, Ilyas swiftly pushed those reflections aside, preferring to savor the fleeting taste of defiance while maintaining a façade of indifference.
Ilyas found his thoughts drifting to the current company he was keeping. A mixture of impatience and boredom lingered in his mind as he contemplated the intricacies of Orpheus’s apology. The contrast between the drama he usually enjoyed and this mundane moment left him yearning for something more captivating.
The irony of being alone with Orpheus in the greenhouse, where usually he sought solace and creative refuge, wasn’t lost on Ilyas. The atmosphere was filled with an unexpected stillness, an unusual backdrop for their usually charged interactions.
Did he want Orpheus to leave, or did he secretly crave the usual banter and tension that defined their encounters?
Ilyas chuckled, Well, my father does prefer a good vintage over a tipsy heir. Keeps the family image intact, you know."
Ilyas leaned against a table, smirking. “Civil conversations are overrated, don’t you think? They lack the thrill of unpredictability.”
He leaned against the wooden table, eyes fixed on Orpheus. There was a moment of silence, the air heavy with unspoken tension. Ilyas’s mind was a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts, from the boredom of the apology to the curiosity about Orpheus’s motives. His gaze held a flicker of challenge, inviting Orpheus to continue the conversation on Ilyas’s terms.
Ilyas enjoyed these verbal spars, and it seemed he wasn’t quite ready to let this one end.
Ilyas smoothly sidestepped, creating a bit of distance between them, a dance of subtle movements. Yet, in the act of distancing, he managed to brush against Orpheus, a deliberate touch meant to stir the underlying emotions .
Ilyas chuckled lightly, appreciating the apology but unable to resist a hint of mischief. While I appreciate the sincerity, Orpheus, I must admit I miss our banter. It adds a certain… flavor to our interactions."
Ilyas’s gaze lingered on his mother’s unfinished painting, a swirl of blue against a dark backdrop.
“And here I thought the ton could usea sprinkles of banter, courtesy of the infamous Orpheus,” Ilyas added, his tone carrying a hint of flirty undertones as he continued to appreciate the lively dynamic between them.
“A blue jay in a dark forest, perhaps?” he remarked, the corners of his lips twitching with a hint of amusement.