~The Queen's Butler...Arrogant~ (Charles Grey x Reader)

Chapter 32: The she-butler, waiting

She had been at this for at least an hour. 

A whole, very, very painful hour. 

 Not even a peep. 

 The Undertaker had requested, as always, a laugh in exchange for his information. At first, (Y/n) had been taken a back, not realizing just how easy it would be to obtain information from this enigmatic man. However, she would soon find out that this was no easy task, and nothing she could say would even give her a quiet exhale of the nostrils in mild amusement. 

 She was frustrated, and tired, and running out of time. 

 The Undertaker leaned back in his chair, thoroughly entertained by (Y/n)'s attempts to elicit a laugh from him. He seemed to be enjoying her struggle, and his eyes glinted mischievously. 

 "Oh, my dear, you're quite persistent, I'll give you that," he remarked, still wearing that infuriating smirk. "But it's going to take more than a few jokes to crack me, darling." 

 Obviously, this wasn't working. She'd need to try something else. 

 "Alright, Undertaker" she said, her voice still firm and shaking a little in anger, though she tried to keep herself composed as she recalled a bittersweet memory. "I remember a moment from my childhood when I found a wounded bird in our garden. It couldn't fly and looked so helpless. I nursed it back to health and took care of it every day, hoping it would recover. After weeks of tender care, the day finally came when it spread its wings and took flight again. It was a simple moment, but seeing that little bird soar filled me with inexplicable joy." 

 At this, (Y/n) noticed a subtle change in the Undertaker's expression. His eyes seemed to soften, and the mischievous glint faded slightly. His eyes seemed to glaze over a little, as though he was searching his mind for something. 

A memory, perhaps, though she couldn't be certain until he spoke again. He exhaled out of his nostrils and closed his eyes, a genuine, toothy smile gracing his lips. 

 And then, a quiet chuckle. 

 (Y/n)'s eyes widened, and her lips parted slightly in shock. 

The Undertaker's chuckle was soft and genuine, a sound that seemed to echo from deep within him. It was not a mocking or sinister laughter but a genuine expression of amusement and perhaps even nostalgia. 

 "Well done, my dear. Well done indeed," he said, his eyes still closed as he savored the moment. "No one has ever tried that one on me, and it was quite effective." 

 There was a moment more of silence, as he bathed in this memory he didn't care to share with (Y/n). Maybe one day, he could share this memory with her, though they both knew today wasn't the day. Again, she was running out of time. 

 "Very well, little reaper," the man sighed, leaning forward and resting his elbows onto the table in front of him. 

"What would you like to know?" 

 "How did you escape the dispatch?" she began, though so many other questions floated in her mind as she shook her head a little. "What...what went wrong the first time? How could you escape even when you were already being kept a close eye on?"

The Undertaker's smile wavered ever so slightly as he considered (Y/n)'s questions. His eyes held a hint of weariness, a glimpse into the weight of the past that he carried with him. 

 "My first attempt at escape was indeed a daring endeavor," he began, his voice tinged with a mix of reminiscence and solemnity. "It was a long time ago, and I was much bolder in my youth. I thought I had planned everything to perfection, but, alas, fate had other plans for me."