The Master [MxMxM+]

10

     The Master received the first letter in the competition not long into the first month. It was a beautiful letter from Pierre. Beautiful being that he could see the effort put into the design of the envelope, a tiny branch of baby's breath was stuck to the front with clear tape against a brief writing: 'to the master.'

The Master opened it.

____________________

Dear Sir,

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 acknowledge Pierre and his kind eyes brought him some calm. At least that looked like he could be approachable.

     "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, regarding him with a distrustful look.

     Pierre couldn't exactly tell him he had to look good in-front of him. Or that he needed his approval to earn a few more points that would ultimately keep him in the game. 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 how."

     "Are you French?"

     "That is right."

     The old man whistled. "C'est très loin de chez soi, mon garcon."

     Pierre's eyes widened in utter shock, hope and happiness all at the same time. He didn't know what to say to the old man who was now leaning on the rake, giving him all his attention.