Winter (Not Edited)

Chapter 6

Winter was busy fixing her dresses. She had to cut about five inches of fabric off the bottom, and add a tie. Though when she tried it on, it looked much better.

While Winter was busy trying to fix her maid dresses, Emerson was busy trying to find clothes for her. He saw enough of those dresses, she was his maid, it was not required to wear those things. Plus they didn't fit her at all.

Emerson scanned the isles of clothes, he had figured she would want pants and shirts. Not exactly sure of her size, she was skinny and maybe 5'2" which was drastically shorter than him. Emerson towered over most people, being 6'3" had its advantages.

He had chosen a couple of everything he thought she might need. He was on his break for lunch, but ever since he woke up this morning he had been on edge. He needed some whiskey, but shopping for his maid would have to do.

Back at the estate, the sun shined aggressively for this season. Winter decided to walk the estate. She found her way to the gardens that she had seen from her bedroom window.

The grand fountain centered perfectly in the middle of the garden held no water. She was not an expert in fountains, but she would try to fix that.

The soft crunching of pebbles was heard as she walked on the pathway that ran along the entirety of the garden. Even in the winter, the plants were slightly green. Emerson never kept his garden up tight, he just let whatever sprouted, to just grow.

Winter pulled a few bad weeds as she took a seat at the concrete bench. Her feet hurt from cleaning the house today, they instantly relaxed.

The warmth of the sun caressed her skin. She had brought a coat she had found. She kept her hands in the pockets, even with the sun being warm, it was still winter. The wind nipped her nose and she did not want to get sick, so she headed back to the entrance of the mansion.

She wondered the kitchen, still in the coat despite being inside. She needed to ask for socks, she had a pair of flats, but they were worn and dirty so she had left them on the front porch.

Standing on her tiptoes she searched the cabinets. They were fully stocked, she kinda hoped they wouldn't be, now she had no idea what to make for dinner.

Winter pushed thoughts of dinner away, and returned to the living area. It was extremely beautiful, a huge white couch held various pillows, a sleek, black grand piano pushed against the corner, a view of the breathtaking marble staircase, and a television hung on the wall above the mantle.

The previous estate she stayed at had no electronics. This was the first time she had noticed the television. She hadn't even seen a phone somewhere around here.

Winter loved movies, or at least the idea of movies. Though she liked the idea of movies, it was books that snagged her. She could read for hours if she was allowed to. Though maybe a movie would be easier, she was tired after cleaning and her stroll through the garden.

Switching on the television, she flicked through the movies. She decided on a classic book she had read, she guessed they had it in motion picture as well.

Beauty and the Beast.

Her eyes glued to the screen halfway through the movie. Whenever something intense happened Winter's eyes would slightly widen. She liked this movie. The concept, the idea of love intrigued Winter. She wanted to be able to love someone the way Bella loved the Beast. She wanted a beast herself, one she could tame and give all her love to.

After the credits began to roll, she struggled to keep her eyes opened. Winter slowly began to fall asleep, she had told herself she would wake in time to make dinner for Emerson.

Emerson had just gotten off of work around seven at night. He wondered what dinner Winter had cooked, he was starving.

She knew dinner was at a later time, because Emerson worked late. Emerson made his way to the front door of the estate with the bags full of clothes for Winter in his hands.

At the door, Emerson's gaze fell upon the little shoes on his doorstep. If he didn't know they were Winter's, he would have sworn they were Mary's. Emerson gulped down the guilt swirling in his stomach.

He needed alcohol.

Opening the door he had a strange feeling, it was a bit too quiet. Emerson made his way to the kitchen, nothing was made or out. It was spotless.

His eyebrows pulled together, where was she? He moved out of the kitchen and towards the living room and up the stairs. He sat the clothes in Winter's room, fully expecting her to be in there, she wasn't.

Where was she? He thought. Maybe she ran away, he shook the meaningless thoughts away.

He discarded his suit coat and unbuttoned his white dress shirt. He exited his room, on the hunt for dinner.

Making his way down the stairs he was stopped by a small sound. Soft snoring filled his ears as his eyes traced the sound wave of his imagination to the direct spot of the occurrence.

Curled into a ball, Winter was sound asleep on the comfortable white couch. Emerson's eyes landed on Winter. She slept with one of his coats pulled over her, where had she gotten that? He dismissed the thought as he slowly walked closer.

Emerson was now standing in front of her sleeping figure. The coat had dropped from her shoulder, leaving it exposed from her still lose, but now tighter dress.

Involuntarily, Emerson's hand reached out to pull his coat higher to cover her exposed shoulder. His warm hand brush her cold skin. She shivered at the contact, his fingers felt cool from the places that they had grazed.

Emerson wanted to touch her again, her soft, sweet skin made his stomach churn. He didn't like emotions, but this woman made him want to feel.

Her beauty was undoubtedly noticeable. Intoxicating, innocence was the air he breathe around her. His hand stretched out against his will again, brushing the blonde strand out of her face. His hand ran along her face, her cheekbones were very visible and yet her cheeks were full and made her look childish.

Snapping out of the trance he was sucked into, Emerson backed away. He made his way up the stairs for what he knew was going to be a long night.

He was scared of falling asleep.

He was scared that when he woke he would relive the entire day again.With that Emerson poured a large glass of whiskey and washed the guilt of his past down, temporarily.