𝗪𝗵𝗶𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝗩𝗲𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲 || Karl Heisenberg

Chapter Fourteen: Nice to Meet You

Ésme sat in the lounge area, utterly engrossed in a book. It provided a much-needed respite from the endless hours of cleaning she had endured over the past three weeks. The soft crackle of an old tune emanated from the record player, filling the room with a pleasant aria that complemented the ambiance perfectly.

Initially, the room felt peculiar to be in, evoking a blend of warmth and awkwardness. This sensation stemmed partly from the sheepish memory of her recent tumble off the stool. Yet, there was another layer to her unease, a dilemma simmering in Ésme's mind, which she couldn't quite shake.

The warmth blossoming in Ésme's chest puzzled her. Was it the crackling flames of the fire that danced merrily in the hearth, or perhaps the lingering memory of her recent encounter with the Lord of the manor, with whom she now shared residence? As her cheeks flushed scarlet, she hastily attributed it to the explicit content of the romantic novel she had stumbled upon, discreetly tucked away in the bedside table of her room.

Though she feigned absorption in the book's pages, her mind wandered elsewhere, unable to escape the unsettling twist in her gut. She convinced herself that the source of her discomposure was solely the provocative prose, yet deep down, she knew there was more to it than mere words on a page.

As the door handle turned, Ésme instinctively shifted, pulling her knees closer and discreetly concealing the book's cover beneath the folds of her overly long skirts. She bit her lip, a tinge of anxiety fluttering in her chest as she pretended not to hear the approaching footsteps. With feigned nonchalance, she darted her eyes randomly across the page, hoping to maintain the illusion of reading—

Yet, despite her efforts to appear composed, Ésme couldn't shake the inexplicable nervousness that gripped her. She sensed his presence before she saw him, her peripheral vision catching his figure standing by the couch. Her gaze fell upon certain words on the page, each one sending a jolt of discomfort through her. "Slick. Swollen. Plush. Lustful." The heat rose to her cheeks once more, but this time, she was certain it was the book's content eliciting such a reaction.

"You're fucken' oblivious," Heisenberg remarked humorously, casting a glance down at Ésme. She met his gaze, her dark hair framing her face, slightly frizzy from the day's activities. It seemed she sought solace in his mother's lounge area, and he couldn't blame her. The room exuded comfort, especially on a winter evening.

Ésme sat nestled against the armrest of the chair, her knees drawn up slightly, her viridian emerald-colored skirts cascading down to the end of the couch in a dark green pool of fabric. The hue complemented her complexion beautifully. As Heisenberg observed her, he noticed her flush, initially assuming it was due to the warmth of the room. However, his perception shifted as he caught sight of her hand subtly attempting to cover the page of her book.

"Yes?" Ésme responded, her tone almost too polite.

A smirk played on Heisenberg's features. "Just out of simple curiosity from the mind of a plain man, what's the book about?"

Ésme's eyes widened slightly, her expression resembling that of a child caught in the cookie jar. "Adventure," she replied hesitantly.

"You seem to enjoy those," he remarked swiftly.

"I find them intriguing," she countered just as quickly.

"What's the title?" Karl inquired, tilting his head slightly.

"I, uh—" Ésme stammered, her words trailing off as the Lord ripped the book from her grasp.

Karl held the book by the spine, his golden eyes scanning the pages with raised eyebrows. A chuckle escaped him before he looked back down at Ésme, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. "Is this what you fantasize about in your spare time?" He stepped closer, looming over her as she looked up at him, her cheeks and ears flushed beet-red.