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39

These two

The blonde one is Amandine

The brown haired one is
Clemens

Amandine is from an aristocratic family

With him and his brother left
His mother and father dying from an illness

His brother taking over as the heir of their estate

And him as the disappointment

To remedy this
His brother had planned for him to wed someone
Someone of higher status

Little does he know
Amandine already has someone he loves

Their gardener, their grounds keeper
Clemens

They once met when Amandine had just lost his parents

In their garden
Holding white chrysanthemums
"Condolences"

Were his first words spoken to him
Not befitting for a first impression

But for him
It felt nice

The months went by
And 4 years had passed since then

The garden that Clemens had tended to had grown well

White chrysanthemums were steadily replaced with red roses

Charming really
Amandine would always be in the garden

Watching Clemens work with the plants
They always kept their love hidden

Hidden from Amandine's brother Auros

It would've always been that way
A secret paradise of theirs
Hidden away

Until
It wasn’t

Auros had found out about the two
One day

He called up Clemens

Asking to have an audience with him

In his office in the highest room of the manor

There he shot the poor man dead
His jaw lopped off as his blood splattered on the drawn curtains of the window

That day Amandine had come home in the evening

His brother had just sent him out to be fitted for his suit for the wedding his brother told him of

He dreaded coming home
To see Clemens
To tell him of what was going to happen
How would he tell him?

The moment he reached the foyer
His brother had met him there

Holding a sack
Bleeding

He thought it was
Another rabbit
That his brother caught while out hunting again

Auros asked him if he recognized it
Holding the sack out to him

Amandine confused

Watched on
As Auros
Pulled out

A head

And tossed it to him
Amandine's hands held out in a reflex

And caught it
Familiar copper hair landed in his arms
The same short hair he ran his fingers through this morning

With the eyes that once looked at him with love
Glazed over and dried