𝗣𝗔𝗡𝗧𝗔𝗟𝗢𝗡𝗘 𝘅 𝗚𝗡! 𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥
━━━ your end will become my eternal damnation.
( tokimihyachi / 07.14.22 )
━━━ 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚: this book contains mature content in various forms. reader discretion is advised.
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CHAPTER NINE . ARTEMIS' DEN
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⸻ THE CREPUSCULAR ROOM CAUSED BY draped silken fabrics proliferated an elegiac scenery, one that reminded Pantalone of wilted pomegranates scattered in an overcast meadow and the day his only kin burned to ashes.
In the middle of this torrefied valley was the Regrator himself, seated on a stool whilst his fingers played the keys of the grand piano with agility, feet gently pressing onto its pedals on occasion.
He was no prodigy in music.
The ninth never once held an instrument usually encased in minted households when he was younger. He was impecunious, and the income of both his parents combined was barely enough for them to get through a single day.
For that reason, he had tossed away juvenile desires to be young and free which necessitated him to think like an adult whose priorities were survival instead of leisure.
He once pleaded to his Archon or to any god, if there even was one that existed, to pull him out of his misery. To grant him a Vision, or any sort of miracle— only for his prayers to become a derelict antique.
Objects would never harm nor disappoint him unless he warranted hurt. So, truly, how could anyone blame him for preferring money over the companionship of other people?
"My Lord? Are you here?"
A visitor enters the vast desert, and he wonders how long they will last before they are too parched to even stay.
The man licked his lips while a grin slowly slipped on his countenance when you reached his left side with amble steps, "You made me wait for far too long, [Name]."
"I wasn't even aware you were waiting for me," you scoffed at him, arms-crossed. "Though I must say, you are quite good at the pianoforte. Why have I only heard you play it now?"
His eye flickered in delight upon hearing your compliment, a veneer of indifference coated over it.
"How was your stay here?" he inquired, focus solidly still on the music sheet and the instrument.
"It was alright." you hummed. "Will you answer my question now?"
Sedulous eyes watch in anticipation as he moved proficiently against the artificial ivory, actions too polished done in a blink of an eye that you are barely able to catch the way each key is thrust in fluid motions.
The song ends in a quick tempo, multiple keys pressed against his hands and he leans his frame ever so slightly against the piano.
You tear your gaze away at him when your mind begins to tread wanton fantasies.
