Three Means 1

Apologies

    Dulce straightened her clothes and fixed her posture. She was uncomfortable with the thought of any questions arising, any that she wouldn't be willing to answer, but the smell of berries and tea was warming her inside.

    "Please sit." Pierre said, extending his arm toward the chair next to Dulce. She noticed he was telling Arthur to sit next to her, but instead, he chose the one across from her. That decision didn't make her think twice about his intentions, whether they were meant to hurt or not; perhaps he just wanted to look at her.

    She did not utter a word, just returned the looks he was giving her. His eyes were soft, and his eyebrows relaxed. That gave her relief.

"I apologize for my drunken state. I will never drink again at such an important event." Pierre threw in, acknowledging his actions. He had been driven by jealousy, an emotion that was still tormenting him. He had chosen the seat next to Dulce, trying to hide his discomfort behind an appearance of remorse.

    "Ne t'inquiète pas. Mon père est ivrogne donc je sais exactement comment les gens peuvent l'être." Arthur responded.

    (Translation: Don't worry. My dad is a drunk so I know exactly how people can get.)

Pierre wanted to yell. He was very aware that he was not even close to being drunk. His actions were fueled by a deeper, more insidious emotion: jealousy. He gripped the sides of his chair, and forced a smile on his lips as he battled the urge to voice his true feelings.

"Yes, I apologize for the little scene that was made. Of course, Pierre wasn't in his right state of mind. I hope we were no trouble at all." Dulce apologized, hoping to learn more about people's reactions.

"Oh no, it was no trouble at all. I just wish you wouldn't have grabbed her the way you did. Some people complained about you carrying Dulce over your shoulder against her will. They said she was kicking and yelling." Arthur informed, his voice filled with the leftovers of the indignation he had felt. He had excused Pierre's behavior and attributed it to drunkenness, but the sting of the earlier attack stayed.

    Pierre's eyes fell to the floor, shame making him red. He was aware of the wrongness of his actions and the guilt chewed at him from inside, leaving him feeling dirty and unworthy.

    Dulce watched him, noticing the change in his demeanor, and felt her heart drop. She didn't want him to think he was some beast who had forced anything on her. Deep down, though she wouldn't admit it to his face or even to herself, her heart skipped beats for him and for anything he did.

    She placed her hand over his gently, under the tablecloth, as a way of offering reassurance. His hand clung tightly to the chair's edges.

    He looked at her instantly.

    "And, for that, I apologize. It won't happen again, I can assure you that." He said, slightly shaking his hand so that hers would fall off.

    Dulce rolled her eyes, unwilling to entertain the idea of his rejection. Arthur noticed her gesture and, without hesitation, asked "Do you not accept his apology, Dulce?" Bringing her back to the present moment.

Pierre observed her with amusement in his eyes, waiting for her response.

"Oh, I do. Just-" She stopped herself from continuing her original statement. She didn't want to create a scene or further complicate things. She offered a soft smile and continued.

    "Of course, Pierre. Your apology is accepted." She replied. "Let us move beyond this incident and enjoy what's left of the night, yes?"

Pierre sighed subtly. He recognized Dulce's insincerity, yet he couldn't stop the guilt that chewed at him for his improper behavior earlier. He yearned to prove himself, to demonstrate that he was more than his emotions.

    "Your forgiveness is greatly appreciated, Dulce." He murmured, mimicking her sarcasm.

As the conversation moved on towards lighter topics, Dulce hoped this thing that happened wouldn't block their growing connection. She kept dazing off into wet daydreams about the little session her and Pierre had not even an hour ago.

    Angelo made his entrance into the room, holding beautiful desserts on exquisite glass trays. He arranged the sweet offerings, carefully,  in front of them and took his seat next to Pierre.

    "So, who won?" Angelo asked.

    "That information is unknown to me, since I left early. I had to make sure this beautiful woman was safe." Arthur responded, attempting to explain his premature departure.

    The utterance of those words hit Pierre like a truck."Why wouldn't she be safe around me? Did he insinuate that I'm a threat to her? Does he think I'm some predatory freak?" The thoughts were begging to come out, but Pierre restrained himself, worried of uttering them out loud.

    In the realm of uncanny coincidences, Angelo's words seemed to line up with the un uttered fears Pierre had been quietly carrying.

"Oh, she was safe, alright." Angelo said, in a light hearted tone that left too many questions.