The Master [MxMxM+]

10

Somewhere In Month One

The Master received an envelope, the first letter. There was enough stationery in every room, nothing ever got left out that could guarantee excuses throughout the competition.
Like someone being cheeky enough to say they didn't write a letter because they couldn't find paper.

It was a plain envelope with nothing written on the outside so the Master opened it.

____________________

Dear Daddy,

I think it was really sweet of you to offer to teach the others how to cook, I don't think you'd appreciate me calling you sweet so after this, I won't.

I feel as if I owe you the truth, you asked me the other night why I'm here and you were right. I lied to you, and for that I'm sorry. I hope you can understand that I can't tell you that.

I'll make you a cheesecake okay?

Yours for as long as you want me,
Pierre

___________

Pierre sat at the steps of the gazebo as he wondered what to do. His first target was only a few feet away tending to some flowers in the garden. The garden that had first captured his heart the first time they arrived in the mansion.

The old looking man set his watering can down and picked up a rake. Pulling all the dead flowers and dried leaves that had fallen to the ground to one side.

Pierre gripped his hands really tight. As he got up, he convinced himself that this wasn't as hard as he thought it was and somehow finally convinced himself to try.

Steady steps made their way to where the gardener worked. "Can I help with this?" Pierre asked, picking up the watering can.

He hoped the gardener couldn't see how nervous he was. The old man, who had been humming, stopped to acknowlege Pierre and his kind eyes brought him some calm.

"Oh- no no sir, don't trouble yourself-"

"It's no trouble, believe me, I want to," said Pierre.

The old man's eyes widened but he didn't argue further. He nodded. "You can start where I've finished," he smiled. "That way we'll be done at the same time."

Pierre couldn't be more grateful. The gardenias opened beautifully next to buds that were taking a little longer to blossom. The first drops of water hit the beautiful white petals as they bobbed a little with the force of the stream.

"Why do you want to help?" the old man asked.

Pierre couldn't exactly tell him he had to look good in-front of him. Or that he needed his approval. So he said the next real truth. "I like gardening."

The old man hummed and Pierre felt the need to continue. "I always did the gardening back home. My maman showed me."

"Home seems far away. I'm guessing you're French?"

"That is right."

The old man whistled. "That's a long way from home son."

Son? Yes!

He didn't know what else to say, it didn't help that the old man had paused and was now sort of leaning on the rake, giving his attention to him as if he was saying the most interesting things.

He nodded again like he understood. "Come on then son, let's move over to the carnations. These bloom most beautifully when the spring finally settles in."