Unkissed. (Rated R)

62.🐸

Forgotten like a distant memory, I chose now to proceed like one.

I arrange my cuffs, out of bed before the dawning sun could awaken, like I used to do. Forcing new thoughts and ridding the old one that have I strangely grown fond to -- Anything to with her eyes and smile.

The silver button of my end sleeves finally pulls through around both wrists. A black dress suit pulled over, blanketing the tucked in white underneath, and my earpiece set in place.

Clothes and shoes delivered to me folded and crisp by the new maids. Modern guns and tasers. Topped with a letter by the King.

'Breakfast at the usual time, and meetings today at the hall center. Be a good brother. - Love Gunter'

A paper has never annoyed me so much until this moment.

The peek of sunlight has begun to lighten in the horizon. A pink, orange hue of the awakening dawn had begun to chase away the mauve. In time for me to be standing at the royal doors before the King and Queen awaken.

Safeties on all four of my guns cocked on, tucked into my belt behind the flaps of my dress suit. Silver Rolex adjusted around my left wrist, diamond studs on each ear, my curly mane tied into a high bun, trimmed beard and a single spray of Dior.

My dark eyes gazes at myself in the mirror as the expensive fumes float around me, and grinned.

Accessories left by no other but Charlotte.

Like before in Adelheid's estate I leave my den, traveling around the length of the castle. Crisp grass rustling under my dress shoes, hands stuffed in my pockets. My mindset distant wondering into the quiet until I am stepping onto the pavement of the castle.

Visions of that day flash before my eyes like screenshots, as I extended my arm out to the handle. A chilly breeze hit the top of my exposed skin, like whispering ghost's behind my nape. Dark green veins protruding from the top of my hand, yet I paused to settle my trembles until the cold traveling in my nerves settles.

A year and a half later I returned. And as I push open the door, and stepped inside, my instincts threw a gaze to the very room on my left side. The ritual basement. Bolted and sealed, with faint sprays of red around the handle. It lacked life, cold and worn out, clearly have not been in use since that night, and no plans to continue.

Chills awaken in me and I'm silently shivering, recalling all that transpired on that day -- yet the ticking of the clock somewhere around the home was racing.

As my heels make a click against the tiles I throw my gaze around to the scenery, the awakening sun still not at its peak, but risen high enough past the top of the trees. Crepuscular rays scatter separately onto the horizon, spilling in through the windows. One brilliantly touched the polished flooring and walls, lighting the dim hallway of Patrick's old room.

Even till this day. For his death, I felt no remorse. Blankly staring into the void as If a part of me waited for him to step out and speak to me, so I could gut him deep for his ultimate sin.

Despite the warming touch, the hallways are cold and lifeless, most figures still asleep, or readying for the day before the King and Queen. And just then, faint sounds are heard in the kitchen - maids readying the breakfast banquet. Just as I finally make way over to the royal bedroom to stand in position, the doors flung open in time.

The gust of wind blowing her curls back. Our eyes met abruptly, and my presence startles her. Neither a jewel on her skintight dress or any wear on her body. Cladded in all black, long sleeves, white pearled earrings and her hair straightened to a looser curl texture. Fox eyes sharpening like blades when she sees my frame.