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Post by ANNABELLE VALLANCE on Feb 28, 2010 21:21:29 GMT -5
February was close to an end after the small holidays of Valentine's Day and Groundhog Day, it still promised a few weeks of harsh winter; the winds blew roughly through frozen trees and the ground littered with a blanket of snow. Annabelle felt rarely fond of cold weather but couldn't help but feel awestruck from such beauty - how white and pure the frozen water appeared when undisturbed by human life. If it wasn't for the small rasping of her door, she wouldn't have the will to tear her teal jewels away from the window. ".....?" Thin strands of blonde trembled from its firm hold against her bosom while she moved to answer the door, fixating her gaze to a small boy standing in front of her - presenting a small note. Gentle pale fingertips rose to grip the note from the young child before smiling with appreciation, expressing her gratitude with a small bow and retreating back to the comfort of her bed. What could it be? Gently tearing away the beautiful insignia sealing the envelope together and pulling the parchment away, her eyes scanned over the paper. Ah, a butler for her already? Annabelle sighed with anxiety knowing that she'd only attended the academy for only a few weeks at best; that faded memory of being banished from her own home still fresh within the mind. Would she begin anew with someone else and help him become a better man?
After a few moments to spare slipping into more comfortable and warm clothes, she decided to search the entire grounds to find him - somewhat confused as to why they wouldn't spare a few details as to how this agreement was supposed to work. Was he to find her or was it the other way around? Annabelle silently fussed with confusion before slipping into the grounds entrance, traveling through the frozen garden of snow to gather her thoughts and calm down. She didn't feel like searching for him but felt sorry that she wouldn't be easy to find; as if anyone would be caught outside in this time of weather. Yet the white decorations and the smooth crisp breeze of the wind brought her peace, even appeal to the young french woman enough to snap a few pictures. Pale digits slipped into her coat before surfacing an old fashioned camera, placing it to her face and snapping a few pictures. Small rosy lips stretched into an easy smile, brushing a gloved hand against her reddening cheeks. Beautiful.
"M-mnnn!" Suddenly the heel of her boot caught something hard against a nearby tree she was trying to walk past, feeling her slender silhouette slip and ultimately fall. With a soft thud and small whimper of pain, she landed against something near the tree; yet something was amiss. It was warm, soft and moving. Annabelle's eyes sprang with life as they opened to reveal a litter of snow and a figure of a pale man's face above hers - just ever so alive and real. It only took a few minutes to realize that she had fallen into his lap by accident but . . . why would someone want to lay in the snow for so long? They could easily be killed from hypothermia. The mute maiden allowed her curious teal hues to wander what she could define of his figure, quickly responding to habit and raised the camera to snap a picture of his close face. What was he, who was he and why was he here? As if paralyzed with fear she didn't make any sudden move to rise from his dormant figure, only staring at his still face - curious if he were a real man or a statue.
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Post by LESFLORES DORIAN MINETTE on Feb 28, 2010 23:38:37 GMT -5
Assulted by suicide snowflakes [/color][/font] melting against a jacket[/font][/center]
Laying out in the snow, a snarl resting on such sinfully used lips, Lesflores Dorian Minette rested underneath a grand oak. Leaves had long ago withered and feel away from the magnificent specimen and it stood bare for the world to see. Just below, a butler wrapped in a dreadfully thin jacket, bright red in the snow like fresh spilled blood. The chill in his bones was delightful, a strange sense of pleasure felt by those luck few who knew where to find it. A burning that no fire could give. With the soft flakes falling to their impending doom, the graceful butler could only think how utterly disgusting they were.
Just like the leaves, they were damned from the start. From the time they were born, they only had one place to fall. Leaves were rejected from the tree, snowflakes from the sky. There were of no use and were sent wafting to their death with such utter indifference that the coldest heart could help but stare in wonder and envy. And so he did. Lesflores had nothing better to do, a meeting with some little girl too helpless to even cook and clean for herself could certainly wait. There was such beauty in these dying things that he found it hard to make an effort and visit the pitiful Lady he was certain to be bound to.
A calm chuckle fluttered from the youth, chattering teeth disrupting the flow of such natural laughter only slightly. Dwelling on such things had brought him to peace as he reflected. He saw himself as the oak or the sky, simply rejecting weaker things until such a magnificent creature remained. When the clouds were done rejecting these useless droplets of water, they would disperse and the vastness of space would be shining for all to see. When the tree rid itself of those vile leaves, it could live with minimal reliance on even the sun. To be so self-reliant, one could only dream. Lesflores, however, dared to become as close as he could.
The soft crunching of boots on the snow caught his ear, a boring sound. Company where it wasn’t wanted. Under the tree, he wasn’t likely to be bothered or noticed. If he opened his mouth and spoke out, he’d only be giving himself away and inviting whoever was walking in the hellish cold over. Instead he elected to stay mute and wait for the walker to pass. Closing his eyes and resting his head against the trunk of the oak, he silently mused whatever his mind would dare to conjure.
Swiftly. The entire thing had been swift. A foot had caught under his knee and with nowhere else to go, the entire body fell with it. Straight onto his lap, a scene out of a romance from the cinemas he’d been forced to as a child. Clearing any annoyance that may have presented itself on his face, the arrogant youth leaned forward and faced whoever had found themselves perched on his lap. A very fair face greeted him, beautiful in his eyes. His mind raced with thoughts of how wonderful it would be to destroy such beauty, bringing feelings of elation to his face. A smile, calm and cool, crossed his lips as he leaned closer to the girl. Without saying a word, the two stared at each other in silent amazement and appraisal for moments until the fallen beauty took a square camera between her hands and with a small ‘click’, captured his smiling face for eternity.
”Lost, dear?” he asked confidently, ”Sight seeing perhaps?” he offered, his eyes wandering to the camera she held. He made no motion to remove her from his proximity. Instead, he merely leaned closer, the warmth from this delicate figure permeating his chilled self. ”I can help you, I suppose.” he whispered in a deep and reassuring voice, ”Just tell me what you need, and it’ll be done.” His mouth, barely inches from this unfortunate girl’s ear, morphed into a twisted grin. What fun there was to have with falling snowflakes.
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Word Count~
Tags~ Annabelle
Notes~
Poem~ Bitter Biting Cold: R. Douglas
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Post by ANNABELLE VALLANCE on Mar 1, 2010 0:09:30 GMT -5
"!" Annabelle froze not from the cold weather but from pure surprise, feeling suddenly bashful after viewing his handsome face - those dark features and canine like mouth twisting in such a way. Ah, he was grinning! Blonde strands flickered to touch her reddened cheeks as the french maiden began to blemish, uttering a few guttural noises; soft, cute and fleeting - sounds that are mostly created during lovemaking. Sea kissed hues glazed over his face while they continued to stare into each others eyes for a length of time, somehow unabashed for their incline to stare consistently. For reasons unexplained, even to herself, she felt somewhat frightened of his looming figure passing over her frail silhouette; that smile of his twisting with such intent that she had never felt familiar with. Annabelle had never much experience with the opposite sex but was told that one day, she should feel fortunate if anyone decided to marry her despite her disability. Many had tried to flirt and court the young woman but she couldn't bring herself to trust either of them, she knew that most only desired sins of the flesh and the money which followed the Vallance name. Despite her shunning family, there was still a deep intent to protect them from further shame. Then he spoke.
Lost? Maybe. Of course she knew exactly where they were but in matters of the heart and soul, she truly felt lost; unable to make decisions that would allow her to rise as a daughter of Vallance and not a burden to them. Sightseeing? Apparently. This stranger was handsome in every sin of the word, his deep smooth voice caressing the very tender purity which gave birth for her sudden bashful behavior. From the day she was baptized as devoted catholic, she was taught the difference between right and wrong; that acts such as sex were to only be committed for procreation and nothing else. Lust belonged to sin and sin became slave to the Devil. A pure virgin suddenly tempted with a demon of sexuality. Annabelle flushed with emotion but couldn't find herself to move away from his figure, even when he inclined closer to whisper such words of kindness into the fragile shell of her ear. It felt warm, slithering so deeply inside her body through an entrance, providing a heating sensation to travel throughout her body. A feeling she'd never felt before. As if controlled by a sudden rush of emotion, she curtly nodded before hiding the small camera back into its hiding place - somewhat embarrassed to take a picture of someone she'd just met. It was a godsend he wasn't offended.
A crumpled note appeared from the layers of coats and scarves, fingers obviously too occupied to even unravel it before shoving it near his chest. Softly but urgently at the same time; if he felt so inclined to help her then he would be of assistance to help her find the butler assigned to her. The only thing she knew about him was the name and yet due to being mute, couldn't ask for his name or in fact hope anyone used sign language anymore. Sad, yes but the harsh truth. Smooth, pale, trembling digits escaped from its boundaries of a glove to slowly uncrumple it for him enough to see through the wrinkles of confinement - gently pointing a digit towards a name. LESFLORES DORIAN MINETTE. As soon as his name would be gestured to, the same index finger found its way to her bosom as if to say he belonged to her. He was her butler. Servant. Guardian. Curious yet vacant sea green hues pinned his albino like figure in a distant sense of bewilderment, wondering if he would catch her crude sign language to detect her wishes.
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Post by LESFLORES DORIAN MINETTE on Mar 1, 2010 0:50:59 GMT -5
Assulted by suicide snowflakes [/color][/font] melting against a jacket[/font][/center]
Such a wondrous thing, conversation. At it’s heart, it is only meant to convey what one says and yet the outstretched possibilities extended like veins. Most considered a conversation simply talking but there was so much more to it than that. For instance, leading a person in a conversation. Convincing them you were right. It would take a great deal of effort to do it without a trick. However, simply miming the person very carefully could lull them into a sense of security. Conversation isn’t just speaking, Lesflores knew, it was also body language, tone of voice, right down to even the slightest inflection. The way this girl’s body and quiet voice spoke gave the lustful sinner a great depth of pleasure. Was she excited being so close to him, accidentally on his lap? Had this given her such a rush? He couldn’t help but feel excited.
”Anything you need at all, I would be obliged to offer my services.” his serpent’s tongue hissing slowly in her ear, offering innocent help with devious undertones. ”A beauty like you in this cold, it doesn’t feel right at all. Let me lead you inside and I’ll help you with whatever you need.” His words twisted like a snake as he slid back to her shy face, reddened for whatever effect he was having on her. Oh yes, she was going to be interesting for sure.
Nervously she produced a letter from her jacket, one he recognized. The school’s stationary was obvious, even with the crumpled state it was in. As her trembling finger pointed to a name, the butler leaned over to read it. There, printed in black, was his name. He nodded quietly as he read the words and looked back to the young lady, opening his mouth to speak. As he did though, she pointed to her chest. Speaking to him with no words. ’She’s mute!’ he found himself shouting internally, ’Hahahahaha! She’s mute, she’s mute! I wonder if I could make her speak? Her voice swell with pleasure? I know very well I could.’ The meaning of the motion was obvious. She was looking for her butler, Lesflores Dorian Minette. And she had found him, she was sitting on his lap without knowing about it.
”You’re looking for him? Is he your lover or something?” an easy misinterpretation of the gesture, the butler joked quietly, ”My, I didn’t take him for such a man. Yes, I can certainly lead you to him.” Carefully placing his hands on the young girl’s waist, he helped her to her feet and smiled with a strange cheer as he bowed before her.
”I am Lesflores Dorian Minette, please forgive the crude joke.” with his head facing the snow, the chilling air cutting straight through him, Lesflores smiled with sinister intent. Had she seen it, she might of run but the only witness was the snow below, ”And this is absolutely no weather for a lady of mine to be walking around in. Come, we should get you inside at once and warmed up.” He came out of his bow and offered an arm to the innocent beauty, he’d led her where ever she so wished. In the end, it didn’t matter what path she took. As long as he was by her side, her fate was sealed.
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Word Count~
Tags~ Annabelle
Notes~
Poem~ Bitter Biting Cold: R. Douglas
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Post by ANNABELLE VALLANCE on Mar 1, 2010 8:37:22 GMT -5
Slowly the anxiety began to leave her body, feeling more comfortable around him; it wasn't everyday someone easily figured out her crude yet mute messages. Annabelle silently cursed for parting with her favorite notepad and pen, figuring it would have saved them a few minutes of dawdling - he couldn't be enjoying this current position. Right? Curious eyes focused on his face while he silently nodded towards the printed letter and glanced back without a few words, the sudden staring bringing those feelings of anxiety back. Not a moment too soon he spoke with a ginger like voice; taking the french damsel aback and even flush completely, the shade of roses shading over her creme like flesh. In a heat of surprise she brought both hands in the air, closing both eyes tightly and shaking both of them with vigorous passion. Anyone with eyes could tell she was replying, No! No! A boyfriend? Annabelle wouldn't dream of having one during her long years! No boy would interest themselves in her mute nature and deep love for insects. A few years back, you would find her wandering the halls of another school in France - weeping endlessly and hiding away so no more children could come and find her. They would relentlessly make fun of her disability and strange personality, leaving the young woman alone most of her school years. Eventually she grew so sick and tired that she stopped going to school all together, instead running to the sanctuary of an abandoned church. She would stay within it's walls until school started and rung for the last bell, cleverly sneaking out just in time to meet her parents when they came to pick her up.
God, why have you forsaken me? Whenever she found herself praying to the lifelike statue of Jesus Christ, she would ask of this - in her mind, soft and fleeting. She didn't know why she was born this way, without the ability to speak her mind despite her frail personality, didn't he love her as he did the other children of God? No, she stated, he made me this way for a reason. In times when many would just give up, she didn't; instead she fought back with the strength of her love for God and desire to strive for better things. She fortunately went back to school and continued her homework without bothering to the rude comments from classmates, went to lunch alone yet ate with a sense of pride. She wasn't ashamed of who she was and she wasn't going to let anyone, not even her parents, try to tell her any different. Perhaps that was why they sent her away - they were growing afraid of her ever swelling pride and didn't know how to control her anymore. Annabelle appeared as a doll and even behaved as such for many of her childhood but no more, she was something more than a beautiful, sorrowful, silent being. She was a person.
I am . . . Lesflores' trailing sentence pulled her back to reality where she would finally snap out of her wishful thinking, looking up to his already standing figure while his comfortable yet strong arms plucked her from the snow bedding. Annabelle naturally clung to his figure with a small whimper - growing afraid of being touched by another she barely knew, let alone a boy. Was he the butler she'd been looking for? ".......?" With a small tilt of her head she curiously analyzed his bow and listened, realizing that by a stroke of luck she had found him. So easy! Sea mist hues brightened with relief and nodded without a second thought toward his invitation, silently agreeing the cold weather outside wasn't the place to recuperate. With a small stretch of her hand she instantly gripped his arm and held it in place, allowing their figures to walk away from the utopia of the frozen garden and find themselves inside. When would she tell him of this . . . problem? Rich blonde brows furrowed with contemplation before gazing to Lesflores' face, raising a hand to perform many figures of her hand. Dipping, creating different shapes; the art of sign language. Would he understand her?
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Post by LESFLORES DORIAN MINETTE on Mar 1, 2010 14:07:10 GMT -5
Assulted by suicide snowflakes [/color][/font] melting against a jacket[/font][/center]
The vacant gaze she had given him suggested someone lost in their thoughts, a pity when someone as great as he was sitting just before her. Lesflores waited patiently before speaking, inspecting the girl with care. The layers she wore to ward off the cold hid her figure, a shame. However her face was more than fair and he could only guess as to what lay hidden beneath the layers of heavy winter clothes. Her quiet movements suggested shyness though he’d never tried to read a mute before. The challenge was refreshing though the bored youth suspected that there was little difference from the average commoner who he dealt with. Where ever she was in the landscape in her mind, it bored him so. With the endless silence came a restlessness in his joints and so he brought her back to the reality, the grander of Minette was sitting just in front of her and thus this was no time to reminisce.
Kind words, far to simple in his eyes really, would lead her where he wanted to go. After the brief joking, a prophecy if he had his way, her reaction had been incredibly through. No, she wasn’t anyone’s lover. She was pure. She was innocent. The deep red eyes thinned with devilish intention, how beautiful it was to have such a clean slate to muddy. How glorious it was to be able to corrupt someone so angelic. Another name in his book, somehow more satisfying than the others.
”You’re quite lucky you found me lounging outside,” the twisted butler spoke as the two crossed the snow strewn ground with crunching steps, ”Otherwise you might have been searching all night! That would have been terrible. I’ve very sorry you had to begin looking at all, had I been in my room I would have received your summons and come to you at once.” His face half turned to watch her expression, Lesflores spoke with a calming confidence. A reassuring tone hiding his demonic mind. ”But as of today, I shall be your faithful and trusting servant. No matter where you may tread, I will follow. Though, you don’t seem like a trouble maker. Thank goodness.” A polite laugh followed, quiet and charming. A calculated attempt to invoke a smile or trust in his mild-mannered façade. ”Though if I’m wrong, I’d follow you just the same. It is my duty as a butler to protect you, as I’m sure you are aware.”
The liar took great pleasure in the foreshadowing he alone would pick up on. Oh yes, he’d follow her anywhere, stringing her along until he grew tired of her. Until she either clamored for more of him or she was so repulsed that she had to flee from his presence. The ride would be slow to start, depending on how resistant she was. But once it passed the crest, the initial hill that would propel them forward, no brake would stop the devious rollercoaster. And oh yes, he could protect her. He would keep her to himself, keep the others out. With her voice silenced, it would not be hard to do at all. Such a grand thing to be someone’s one true confidant, one’s true light. How absolutely delightful it would be to rip that away.
”Now then, you’ll have to show me the way to your room once we are inside and I’ll make preparations to move there at once. I will just have to duck out for a short while to gather a night kit.” The suddenness of his voice broke the almost unnatural quietness, the wind offering the only of nature’s melodies, ”Surely you were told that butlers are to stay with their Ladies, yes? Of course, if the thought makes you uncomfortable we can work to arrange something more suitable.” As if it were routine, Lesflores was offering kind advice and polite conversation to which the silent Lady could answer with a shake or nod of her head. He was careful to make sure she would be able to respond easily, not wishing to possibly upset her quiet yet. No, that would come later.
”But if you will allow me to speak freely, and forgive me if I offend, it would be much more convenient for me to stay in your room. It would make it far easier to answer your call should you need me.” the idle chatter as they came to the building slowly ceased as he opened the door and invited her inside with a wave of his arm. ”After you, mademoiselle.”
Once inside, she faced him and her hands flew. It was impressive the way they moved and Lesflores thought how skilled such hands must be. The entire thing was a nonsensical gibberish to him, he supposed he would have to learn carefully and impress her. It wasn’t a completely useless skill and it would make communication with her much more simple. But until then, he could only shake his head with a quiet sadness. ”I’m afraid I don’t understand sign. But rest assured, as long as you are my Lady I will work to learn. I’ll get so good that I’ll be able to talk your hands off!” He joked lightly, offering a charming white flash of teeth. The boyish devil wanted to see that innocent face light up, to see it completely trusting and defenseless.
”Forgive me,” another calculated bow feigned apology, ”I didn’t think that might be rude. I must stop myself before I say such things.” The entire thing was pitiful, to bend so easily for someone else. To ask for forgiveness. The act made Lesflores want to break his pinky, just to wash the ugly distaste from his mouth and let pain easily flow it’s way into his thoughts. However it was needed and he wasn’t one to skip the important details. He remained hunched, eyes tearing into the ground and waiting for her reaction. Either she would take it lightly and show him it was nothing to apologize for or she would show anger or hurt. And either way, he’d be able to respond with the proper amount of care to allow her to warm up to him as quickly as possible. The entire process was tedious but necessary, laying the foundation for his very own house of Usher. A monument meant to fall with dissonance crying and the things of the night laughing. Here he was, center stage. Lesflores, the demon actor working to hook yet another unfortunate soul who had been unlucky enough to be stuck with the crazed youth.
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Word Count~1126
[/u] Tags~ Annabelle Notes~ 1126?![/u] Poem~ Bitter Biting Cold: R. Douglas[/color][/size][/font] [/blockquote][/blockquote][/blockquote][/blockquote] |
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Post by ANNABELLE VALLANCE on Mar 1, 2010 15:43:56 GMT -5
How polite! The mute angel thought aloud, witnessing his gesture of opening the door and allowing her to reach inside first. Any gentleman would have done so but this was the first time that anyone who did so with such kindness. Something she wasn't used to. Warmth ensnared the young woman in a blanket of comfort, feeling at ease and even stuffed being trapped inside many layers of coats and jackets. Smooth, chapped ruby lips parted to release a heavy sigh of relief before idle hands began to peel apart particles of clothing. One by one they fell to the ground to reveal the small lithe figure of Annabelle Vallance; a slender waist with a tiny figure that resembled the appearance of a pixie. Butter yellow strands of silk escaped from the depths of her coat and hung freely above her face, traveling towards the nape of her slender shoulders. Beneath the outer warm exterior was the base of a beautiful baby blue dress frilled with lace and curls, complimenting her creme like skin. "A-ahm." If able to speak, that noise would be recognized as 'Ahhh' instead of a burgle of what she tried to imitate.
"..............?!" Yes, that was right. Butler's did sleep alongside their Lady's didn't they? Already the young french maiden began to feel the blush slowly creep around her cheeks, revealing her true embarrassed nature to even consider having them sleep in the same room. Normally she'd assume he was trying to come up with an excuse to have them sleep together but she knew the rules all too well; it was regulations to have them sleep in the same apartment if not in the same room. What if something happened to her? Cell phones were handy in that case but things could easily grow out of control. "......." A soft sigh released from the small woman before she turned to the face of her butler, slowly nodding as a reply. Yes, she would have him sleep in the same room as she and as for the bedding regulations - they would come across that bridge when it appears to them. Perhaps he sleeps on the floor whilst she in the bed? Even she imagined it would be rude of her to treat him like an animal but sleeping the same bed wasn't going to happen by any means. To imagine that such a handsome, polite man such as himself would even waste time to flirt with a girl like her was madness. Annabelle softly frowned from realizing she would feel pleasured from the mere thought of him attempting such temptations. Hardly becoming of a lady.
Annabelle already felt somewhat comfortable with her new butler enough to pardon his lack of sign language skills and perhaps would one day offer to each him, if he desired it so. Yet what was to happen for means of communication? Because of her lazy antics, the paper and pen were left in the deep recesses of her room and she very well wasn't good with guessing games. Aha~! With a small noise of acceptance she fished through her pockets to find a vibrant sky blue cellphone with several animated key chains dangling in midair, flipping it open and typing it soundly into the premature keyboard. Pale digits flew faster than the winds of a storm as she typed this text message for him, finally finishing the message and bringing it close enough for his tall build to see through.
[- Stop pretending, I know taking care of a "defect" like me must bring you great misfortune and displeasure. -]
Along with the text message and the somber expression on her face, it was obvious she wasn't buying those false smiles and dutiful manners. No one with that sort of mind would be sent here but instead catering to someone like the Queen of England. Dealing with a mute young lady wouldn't be easy by any chance, especially with her vibrant spirit. Yet she didn't have the desire to watch his face expression once he read the message, knowing he would've displayed a false sense of kindness once again. That false smile of his was truly growing annoying, she contemplated, what is he truly like? Finally she left the small cellphone in the palm of his hand as if to give him plenty of time to read it over, walking away from his standing build to lead him the way to her room. It wasn't far but a few flight of stairs always proved to be troublesome to climb over, especially with her small weight and keen habit of tripping easily. Felt scarlet carpet smoothed the soles of her worn sneakers whilst she climbed further and further, wrapping slender digits about the finely sculpted railing to help her through this perilous journey. Once conquering the last stair of the ever winding case, she would pause and turn to see if he was catching up.
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Post by LESFLORES DORIAN MINETTE on Mar 1, 2010 22:12:34 GMT -5
Assulted by suicide snowflakes [/color][/font] melting against a jacket[/font][/center]
Lesflores stooped down to pick up the falling garments of his Lady. It was his job, after all, to pick up after the needy woman who need his assistance. With his act of polite sincerity, the butler followed just slightly behind the angel with the straw colored hair. His eyes drifting low, careful to avoid her attention, to watch the sway of her hips as she walked silently ahead. How could have gotten off so lucky? A mute girl, seemingly feeble and easily led on? Someone so embarrassed by the idea of a partner that she had to vigorously shake her head to dispel the myth, there seemed to be little challenge in the deed. However, a large part of him wanted to break something so disgustingly pure.
As she began to fumble in her pockets, the butler moved to her side. His eyes seemingly innocent, no long inspecting her frame. He’d have all the time he needed to rate her figure, though from what he could see he was impressed. Such a petite frame, frail and perfect for the taking. His mouth practically watered from the idea of taking such a girl. As she produced a cell phone, the fiery eyed monster quixotically eyed the girl as she clicked away at the numbered keyboard with a speed unrivaled by the most trendy of girls he had been with. She turned the screen to him and he read quickly, staring at the words with a quizzical look. As far as left field was concerned, he’d just been hit with the unexpected. Was she angry? Taking his politeness as a way of coping with her muteness? He bite his tongue until he tasted blood to hold back ignorant laughter and Beelzebub’s smile.
The look she gave him was pitiful, mistrusting for all the wrong reasons. Leaving her cell phone in his hand, as if to say ’read this until you understand’, Annabelle walked away without the slightest hint of care. Lesflores knew he had misjudged her, an easy mistake with such a girl he’d never encountered before. He had mistaken her disability as a weakness and he obviously couldn’t begin to fathom how it had affected her life. His assumption that she had lived an easy life was completely unsupported. With a quiet curse aimed at himself, the devilish youth waited.
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So she was tough inside of that fragile exterior. A strength that he hadn’t been able to see. Dorian laughed quietly, careful to make it sound joyful and full of understanding. In truth, he felt those exact feelings. Joyful that this wasn’t going to be an easy routine, a game he could play in his peaceful sleep. And he was only beginning to understand how absolutely little he knew about Annabelle. The game would begin soon enough, the goal unclear anymore. With weak, pure girls it was always helping them break their passive view on the world that gave him a nearly rapturous elation. But this wasn’t so easy, this wasn’t the case for Miss Annabelle anymore.
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The game could be as simple as bringing the mark to the brink of desperation, of rebellion, of any particular condition he felt like producing. A girl loyal to her family must have those ties shattered. A boy with a dreadful fear of homosexuality should be trained to love the feel of another man. He’d be careful with Annabelle though, wait until the truly proper victory condition came about. Setting a goal for himself, turning the entire sinful adventure into a game gave Leflore a new satisfaction. The goal oriented schedule helped him achieve his desired result.
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”Hey, wait!” he called with concern after the girl as she retreated. He followed in a hurry, quickly rushing to her side. ”I don’t understand. You think I’m being insincere? My dear, nothing could be further from the truth.” The snow haired boy, the dead snowflake’s remains dripping slowly from his locks, stepped in front of his lady, blocking her path. He reached out and gingerly touched her shoulders, asking her complete attention. ”I do not pity you and I do not see you as disastrous. I see you as my Lady and I am bound to you no matter what. As far as I can tell, there is no other lady for me. Please, do not be so quick to judge.” Again, he bowed his head in apology, ”Forgive my curtness but I think this is a grave misunderstanding.” The wet clothes were sticking to his athletic body were giving him chills, a visible shiver ran through him. A perfect accident. ”So please, let me escort you to your room and help you get settled in.” He wondered how she would take it, his act of selflessness. Standing in his soaked clothes; a thin red jacket with black shirt underneath and faded grey jeans. A bandage wrapped around his neck, supposedly for decoration although he hadn’t had the chance to explain that to his lady quite yet. He gazed back into her eyes, a sorrowful look. ”This isn’t just my job, if I can honestly improve your life while you are here than I will be all but satisfied. Consider me something like… a guardian angel.” He paused before saying the cliché, wondering if she would find it blasé or honest. ”I won’t try to change your mind because that isn’t my place. Please forgive me for speaking out of line.” His hands slid to his sides and he stepped away, moving against the wall and offering her the room to move again. Like a kicked puppy, he awaited her response.
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Word Count~1126
[/u] Tags~ Annabelle Notes~ 1126?![/u] Poem~ Bitter Biting Cold: R. Douglas[/color][/size][/font] [/blockquote][/blockquote][/blockquote][/blockquote] |
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Post by ANNABELLE VALLANCE on Mar 2, 2010 13:20:05 GMT -5
The way Les found himself up the staircase and by her side within minutes startled Annabelle, sparing a moment to blink her blonde lashes and when they opened - he was standing right in front of her. How could he move so fast? "....!?" Annabelle's fragile silhouette jolted with surprise and quickly took a few steps backwards, suddenly caught in step by his strong hand fastened around the natural dip of her shoulder. Naturally she gasped from feeling the cold sting of his frosted digits, unable to move away from his pensive crimson stare. Not even the strongest guard of the Vallance Manor could have moved as fast than he and yet he was only a boy attending this academy. The french maiden couldn't help but wonder what his past relations were before attending this school, what kind of training he went through to manage himself here. Yet all those questions would have to come later for she couldn't bear to stare into those somber blood red eyes of his.
Without sparing another attempt of speaking, she brought a slender hand from her side and slowly caressed the crisp edges of his hair with a loving pet. At first the stroke was smooth and light then slowly became deep and loving, providing a small sincere smile in letting him know that he was forgiven. How could've she been so silly to assume such? Annabelle didn't receive much kindness as a child or most of her teenage life and as a habit, she began to learn the difference between fake and real. Did he truly wish to become close to her or find an easier path to graduate and be rid of her? Soft teal green hues glanced over his build to take notice of his soaked clothing; noting how desperately it clung to his well shaped figure and how cold he must have been. Yet he was there, standing and waiting. The mouth of his lady would frown and quickly lace their hands as one for only a brief moment, until he found himself on both feet before she broke their connection and disappeared into the hallway.
Passing door after door, she often turned around to see how closely he followed - turning back to her original walking space until a large door presented itself. It was only an apartment since they didn't receive their actual home yet until further notice, so a small space meant for one person will have to do. As soon as the door opened from the use of a house key, she brought a palm against Les' chest before shaking her head. Not yet, she thought, don't come in! Stretching in index finger straight in the air she gestured him to wait a few moments before slipping into complete darkness, creating much racket that could attract the dozens. Dirtied clothes, empty dishes and wrinkled sheets were thrown about in different directions - placing them anywhere convenient to at least give an appearance that it was clean. In a quick dart the blonde maiden resurfaced the room and poked her butler gently into the side, smiling brightly as she gestured him to come inside. The room wasn't specially decorated but it was fitted for a young woman; simple cute pastel colors with interesting designs. A television, a bedroom, kitchen, bathroom and balcony - all sizes particularly small but comfortably cozy at the same moment.
Pale arms stretched and slowly weighed her fragile body into the depths of the couch, giggling from feeling comfort at long last from her brief adventures. The camera which hung so closely around her neck was taken and brought close to her face again, eying the full figured Lesflores and snapping another picture; releasing it's hold along her face to spare a silent glance at his face. So handsome. She thought while poising a palm against the bridge of her chin, slowly traveling her gaze down from his bandaged neck to the natural dip of his waistline. It was quick and somewhat noticeable but she only spared a few seconds, avoiding to feel somewhat shameless for her curious nature. This was, of course, the first time she'd ever sleep with a boy in the same room. Almost forgetting how long he'd been standing in the middle of her apartment, she quickly padded a plentiful space next to her side on the couch. Although she'd be laying it in a different position of sideways instead of sitting up - there was still plenty of room for him to grow comfortable.
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Post by LESFLORES DORIAN MINETTE on Mar 2, 2010 15:01:21 GMT -5
Assulted by suicide snowflakes [/color][/font] melting against a jacket[/font][/center]
Anna’s soft digits slid up and down the side of the deceiver’s face. He hadn’t exactly expected such a kind look or the soft touch she had graced him with but the result was just as he had hoped. Standing drenched before her, almost miserably apologetic in his stature. Her hand found his and slowly weaved their fingers together, another gesture that surprised him. How wrong could he have been? He’d mistaken her for a weak-willed and overly innocent little girl with absolutely no experience with men. And perhaps he was right and she was just full of surprises, one of those spontaneous types that pained him so. The moment was slow and as he pushed away from the wall her fingers retreated from his clutches.
Acting as such a piteous fool disgusted him, the shivering youth followed closely behind his Lady as she led on to her room, his eyes inspecting all that he could see of her slowly when he had the chance. Such a slender and petite frame, beautiful. A suppressed smile crossed his lips, one that appeared not begrudgingly accepting of his lady but almost genuinely preferring her to others. The squishing sound of his shoes quietly echoed as they passed door after door of the temporary rooms for lady’s while awaiting an assigned butler. The school hadn’t skipped any expense to provide a truly lavish experience to these wealthy girls though Lesflores figured that many of them, like he, were already bored with such things.
Annabelle stopped suddenly in front of a door and turned to him, pressing her palm against his frozen chest. The look on her face told him to wait and a small laugh came from the boy as she stole away inside the darkened chambers. ”Cleaning? Mademoiselle, that’s my job. You shouldn’t be forcing yourself to pick up for my sake.” The absurdity of Annabelle continued to overwhelm him, surely she know what a butler was and what he was supposed to do. Eventually he would have to pick up after her, do her laundry, cook and clean just for her. What was she going to do when she found out he’d be handling her under things, taking them to be washed? A crooked smile passed his lips, imagining the girl vehemently refusing to allow him to do so. The racket from inside was horrible, almost as if the room was being ransacked. With a low sigh, he paced just outside of the doorway. A feeble attempt to try and warm his joints. The pain of absolute freezing was wonderful, the misery of just being cold was agonizing.
When the bright maiden appeared again, she poked him cheerfully. A manner of saying ’It’s fine now, come inside.’ The room was rather plain when he had finally shuffled inside, stopping only to take of his horribly soaked shoes. The wooden floor and pastel colors reminded him of his childhood, watching his baby sister in her crib. The thought disarmed him for a second, it wasn’t one that came up very often. An innocent time for him, a word he would rarely use to describe himself. Standing dumbfounded, he barely noticed his lady’s eyes working him up or down. With a hurried blink, he snapped himself out of the dreadful reminiscing. Again, the stereotype he had built of her was cracked. She was interested in men after all, just too why to admit it.
With a soft pat on the couch, his lady offered him a seat next to her. Looking down at his clothes, he figured it would be the least butler-like act he’d been asked to do. An excellent butler such as himself wouldn’t allow his lady’s couch to be soaked just because his legs were tired. Wobbly, in fact. How hadn’t he noticed before? His mind had been so focused on his pray he’d neglected his own body, the cold had gotten to him more than he realized. Taking a step forward, he figured it would be best to take the offer with a slight nod. ”Thank yo-” his dripping sock slipped on the floor and his other leg was too weak to support him properly. Crashing toward to couch, he did his best not accidentally injury his lady. Falling sideways, arm failing for the top of the seat, he instead found Annabelle’s shoulders and pulled her onto of him. The heat resonating from her was magnificent, his entire body lapped it up. An accident that would cost him, he was sure, but such a glorious happenstance. The devilish deceiver didn’t even need to fake surprise, the fall had shocked his body into pumping adrenaline to push his body into acute awareness. A hard swallow showed a slight nervousness, without careful calculation he couldn’t be sure how this situation would turn out. But her face had been forced to his neck, he body nearly intertwined with his. His pulse beating rapidly, he couldn’t make a move without his mind rushing through the consequences. The inner-devil cried out to take advantage of the moment, there was no shame in appearing weak-willed. Enough apologizing would save him, it reasoned. He fought it with all of his strength, there was no lasting pleasure in just taking her here. No, he would wait and enjoy the awkwardness. Drinking it in like wine, his surprised eyes burning bright, trying to find her own teal orbs like a fire glaring at water that would eventually put it out.se.
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Word Count~935
[/u] Tags~ Annabelle Notes~ Poem~ Bitter Biting Cold: R. Douglas[/color][/size][/font] [/blockquote][/blockquote][/blockquote][/blockquote] |
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