First, only, and last time

.10.

In his sleep, he relives these famous banquets where his parents feasted during the days of spring.
Because he had this psychic power he often had this kind of lucid dream, almost too realistic.

He saw the multicolored dresses and laces whirling endlessly to the rhythm of the violins.
It was perhaps a magnificent spectacle for the human eye but he couldn't stand it anymore, he wanted it to stop right away.
He could no longer bear the sound of the instruments of the devil or the excited crowd.
The smell of my flesh and blood mix with those of perfumes, spring flowers, and pastries.

His eyes popped open with a strange start, more like he felt like he was falling from above.
But he was still lying in his coffin.
His body was still lethargic, was the sun still present?
He carefully lifted the lid to peek outside.
The moon was already shining high in the darkening sky.

How long had that lasted?

He made the choice not to think about it more than that.
He finally emerged completely from his coffin.
He left his room to go straight to his office.
But he had no desire to remain locked up between these same four walls as usual.
So he went to the largest library in the manor, taking only a candle.
Caressing the books looking for the one he would choose.
Jake suddenly came back to him.
Where was he ? He leave ? Again?
Jake didn't have the habit of leaving the place two nights in a row, and even less without letting him know.
But he left that question hanging for now.

He took a book from one of the many shelves, ran a hand over the cover to remove the thin layer of dust.
He watched it for a moment holding the object in his delicate white marble hands.
He clutched his book to his heart, and with his right hand picked up his candle and left the place.

While walking in the corridors he found himself rediscovering the walls of these.
Those paintings and gold moldings he hadn't paid attention to for a long time.

The places had remained almost the same identical to when his parents still resided there. And it was only his dream that came back to him, but also other old memories he hadn't shared with Jake when telling him about the life he had once led.
He always crossed his endless corridors and stairs until, without really knowing how he found himself in the huge backyard.
He crossed the gardens and walked to the edges of the forest that surrounded the estate.

The night was clear and calm, not a breeze or a sound disturbing the tranquility of the woods.

Heeseung continued to advance between the tall trees, until he reached this small flowering glade where he had not set foot in years.
The moon shone brightly above him.
He put the candle which was still burning on the ground between the flowers as well as his book and simply let himself fall and back without his eyes ever leaving the shining rock which overhung him.

Exhaling a great blow, he reflected on his recent torments, which floated in his mind these last times.
He thought that his disturbances came from having brought up so many things by confiding to Jake.
Maybe that had been the case before.
But ever since the kiss he stole from him he thought to himself, what maybe they were just related to Jake?
Or was it a mixture of all that?

The cold air coming in and out of his lungs was doing him a world of good.

Why had he acted like this?
Only one thing came to mind when that question popped into his mind.

Love. Still and always.

He only knew the name, and perhaps a few derivatives.

Of course he loved his parents, his mentor, of course he loved his books which fascinated him.

But love in its simplest sense.
He cannot tell.

He loved Jake yes, certainly, otherwise how could he have lived so long by his side?
But, after having read so many novels dealing with the subject, he knew very well that when we were asking ourselves these questions, something had changed.

He grabbed the book next to him and sniffed inside before getting lost between its lines.
When he was mortal, he came to take refuge here to read on days when the hustle and bustle of receptions disturbed his concentration.
He loved this place.

"Love" that damn word again.

There was a slight draft, and the orange glow of the candle disappeared.
He slowly turned his head to watch the wax drip into the grass.

No more fire.

Jake.

Where the hell was he?

Heeseung wanted to message him.
But, how to speak to him after what he had done?

Was it embarrassment?

Or fear?

He had no answer to that either.

- Jake...

He lay there for who knows how long before packing up and returning to the manor where he settled into one of the armchairs in his little living room, continuing to read, before the crackling of the fire around as the only distraction.

Then he finally appeared.