The Nemesis

CHAPTER SEVEN: IF YOU WANT TO REST IN PEACE, CALL THE POLICE

The Dietrich-Royce's Palais Bellevue was a haven of exotic plants, artistic extravagance, endless glamor that one can only have dared to imagine in daydreams, sitting on the edge of Angel's Cove, thus privileged with the panoramic front view of the sapphire Pacific Ocean and tranquil privacy. On the back of the palace, inside a lusciously green forest, which fairies must have dwelled in, flows an ethereal lazy river, whose path is shrouded into alluring mystery by hunched emerald weeping willow, violet wisteria, and fragrant acacia trees, and adorned by intricately sculpted marble statues chimerical muses sitting on top of moss-covered rocks. At the end of the lazy river cascades a powerful waterfall of fifty feet, which travels its long way down a road of rocks, between immense oak and weeping willow trees, and crashes into a relatively dainty fountain, welcomed by the stately statues of revered Greek gods and goddesses. Beholding the spectacular view from her bedroom in the aristocratic North Wing of the palace, Pip's yearning eyes drink in the sense of sun-drenched tranquility and security of the room. Her enchanting tresses gracefully tumbles down her face as she shifts in her floral damask, oval backed chair and stretches out her long legs onto the spacious ivory Savonnerie rug. The baroque crystal chandleir's warm glow illuminates Pip's barely veiled unnerved frown and the two insecure hands tightly gripped onto the willowy fabric of her cream-colored exquisite lace robe that cascades down her legs and forms a foamy puddle around her feet.

"Pip", softly asks Timothee, sitting next to her, on one of the same demure chairs as Pip's, quietly gazing at the four dome windows, whose golden frames are extravagantly decorated with byzantine floral details.

"Yeah?", asks Pip, whipping her head around towards him and flinching her shoulders as if his words were needles that stabbed her sensitive heart without a warning.

Timothee pulls up his two legs to his chiseled chin as his gaze drifts to Pip's hauntingly exotic gray irises, where ghostly secrets seem to waltz behind the conspicuous simplicity of a ubiquitous pupil.

For a moment, Timothee swore to himself that Pip is tangible to his heart and that her eyes reflected nothing in them but her wobbly soul; but the next moment dormant feeling of unnameable confusion, lodged in the back of his head, poisons his yet-to-bloom smile, warning him of Pip's intangible presence in his heart and that her eyes reflected his disheveled self.

"I feel you", he hesitantly lies, his whispery breath, as cool and mellow as the Pacific Ocean, tenderly brushing against the marble groove of Pip's irritated neck peeking.

"Don't pity me. I just...just was so afraid of...I know I sound super cowardly, but was just so, so afraid of dying!", Pip sharply sighs as her smooth forehead and narrow nose wrinkle into a distressed grimace and eyes become misted with faint tears.

"Hey, hey. You're never sound cowardly. It's okay to be afraid. Who wasn't afraid in yesterday's bedlam?", reassures Timothée, his surreal eyes beaming at Pip and unconsciously wrapping his arms around Pip's fragile shoulders.

Pip desperately holds onto the cozy sleeve of his green V-neck sweater and buries her anguished tears into the cashmere haven of his hug, craving the comfort of her irreplaceable best friend more than ever in her whole life.

Timothée, as if it is his innate nature to tend to the peculiar Pip, carefully nestles her into him, with the unconditional love a mother would give to her only child, and an unbothered smile blooms on his lips, his unnameable confusion of Pip having melted away into her vulnerable trust for him.

Two reserved knocks starkly echo throughout the magnanimous bedroom, forcing Timothee's keen attention from Pip to the gold cherub-embellished ivory double-doors.

"Breakfast is ready! The servants will be ready for you! Is Timothee with you, Pip?", Mary's voice rings out, to which Timothee calls out, "Yes, I'm here. We'll be out in a minute!", as he pulls a quietly sobbing Pip closer to him, gluing together her broken spirit with his optimistic arms.