𝗨𝗟𝗧𝗜𝗠𝗔𝗧𝗘 | 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐰 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝

𝐢𝐢𝐢𝐢. 𝐌𝐈𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐋 - 𝒊'𝒍𝒍 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒐𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 𝒕𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕

♕

"Dahlia?" Matthew called from outside the bedroom. 

Dahlia had pushed him out, threatening with her slipper. Matthew had learned to fear Dahlia's slipper the hard way.

"Coming! Ugh I hate buttons!" Dahlia cried in frustration. Matthew's muffled laugh seeped through the door, Dahlia glared at the door while she angrily buttoned her dress. The door opened after a few minutes, Matthew coming in as if he was sure she was done, which she was. She was just putting on the anklets. Matthew knelt down in front of her, as he had two weeks ago, only this time to put them on for her. She sat back, sighing. "I can do it you know?"

Matthew shook his head stubbornly, "I insist on doing it for you. Besides I wanted to give you something."

Dahlia had started wearing the anklets more often when they danced, she even danced the hundreds of dances of India she had learned with Ariadne from books and Arya, in front of him. Matthew's favorite was the kathak claiming he liked when the dress spread out like a blooming flower.

She started wearing them more often around the house for fun and put mehendi on her hands and legs more. It faded in around three to four days because she extracted the paste from the plants, but she didn't mind making more every week. It was fun, Matthew had once put it on for her while she read out Alice in Wonderland.

He had also noticed how little she ate, and made her eat more. She had started eating double the amount she used to eat, and she told Matthew that was how far she was willing to go because that was how much a person normally ate.

Things had changed drastically between them in a course of two weeks, she didn't know Matthew could be so....charismatic.

"I have-" he broke off, fumbling in his pocket for something. "Our two-week anniversary," he said, in answer to her quizzical expression. He handed her a black velvet box.

 "But—I didn't get you anything." She took the box, the velvet nap soft against her fingers. "I didn't know I was supposed to."

"You weren't." Matthew sad simply. Dahlia shook her head opening the box. It was a pendant necklace, with stars engraved onto it. It glittered like the night sky in the shining rays of light. She looked at Matthew, her face set in a wide smile. "Thank you." she whispered.

"It's perfect." Dahlia felt as if her heart might flutter out of her chest. 

"Here—let me put it on—""Hold on, hold on." Matthew laughed, coming up behind her, he knelt down once more. "The clasp is small. I'll help you."

Deftly, he found the clasp at the back of her neck. She froze. His fingers slid lightly across the delicate skin at the top of her spine, where her dress dipped down. He smelled like Matthew; brandy and wheat. 

 There was a click as the necklace fastened; he breathed in deeply as he reached around to straighten the pendant and she felt it, felt his chest expand as he breathed, the linen of his shirt against her back, making the hairs rise all along the back of her neck.

Then he stepped back. Dahlia evened out her breathing and faced him,  "Shall we?" she asked, her voice surprisingly leveled.

Matthew smiled evenly, "Of course." he said, taking her hand in his and leading them to the carriage.

"How many people do you suspect will be there?" Dahlia inquired, getting into the carriage, Matthew following her a few minutes later.

"Around fifty? Rosamund isn't that famous around London seeing....her peculiar habits." Matthew said winking at her. Dahlia giggled.