Calling On : Belle Rose Fleur
Corin eyed the flowers on the table as he paced, attempting to construct some sort of plan for Belle. She would need to marry by the end of the season. That much was certain.
So the question was, how would he get her to agree?
[color= #7851a9] “Truly, are you that desperate for my attention that you followed me to England of all places?” [/color] Belle’s voice was an exasperated, whining sound, as sharp and grating as Corin remembered it being.
[color= #0E6251] “Your attention?” [/color] Corin laughed at the idea. [color= #0E6251] “I am here on business you entitl-“ [/color] Corin turned quickly in his anger, finally confronting her.
Yet, his mouth quickly shut as his eyes met hers.
Dark brown.
Yet ice cold.
They sent a shiver down his spine, the chill of the past washing over his guarded mind with the force of earthquakes, shaking the air from his lungs in a steady pull.
Those eyes that bore witness to the chapters of their shared narrative, each page a haunting reminder of what once was. Resentment surged through Corin’s veins as her gaze became a mirror reflecting the shadows of bygone days. He had ripped that page from his past long ago.
Ripped it, and burned it.
Yet here she stood, her stare reflecting the screams of his past back at him again, resonating with the sentiments he had tried to bury beneath the passage of time.
She stood as a somber reminder that some ghosts are perennial, returning to dance in the shadows of what once was. In the ashes.
And that even beautiful eyes could hold a dark and twisted soul.
[color= #7851a9] “I know you truly did not come here to have a good chat with me or because you missed me and I know you also do not wish to be here, talking to me. We are nothing to each other and we’ve always been nothing to each other, so just leave.” [/color] Belle’s words spoke of a time long since passed, a childhood curiosity, a trust smashed into pieces.
Nothing.
That word in relation to Belle Rose seemed laughable to him. She was never nothing, and she knew that.
She was his greatest mistake.
Corin took a pause, trying to quell his rising anger and determine the best way to approach her now. He needed her to be cooperative. He needed her to listen. And if there was one thing Belle Rose would always listen to, it was a story.
[color= #0E6251] “Save us both the exhaustive back and forth, Belle Rose. I will not go. You cannot make me. See, one benefit of my past is that you no longer have anything to threaten me with. Now, sit.” [/color] Corin perched himself on the arm of a chair, gesturing to the couch across from him.
[color= #0E6251] “And let me tell you a story, Dea.” [/color] Corin spoke so gently the tone shocked even himself.
The audible reminder of their past, a simple word, so fragile in his childlike creation, yet it held the weight of an entire lifetime forgotten to the flames.
Corin had never been one quick to anger, never to fight, and he would not start with Belle Rose of all people. She did not deserve his emotion.
After all, he was doing her a kindness simply by being here.
An act, though truthfully, not entirely selfless in nature, was in her best interest.
Corin cleared his face of emotion again, pulling himself back into the cool and composed figure he always was.
He gestured again to the seat, waiting for her to sit before speaking again.
mentioned:
Belle (@Kristi)