Home At Last (Evelyn Du)

Chapter 3

It's Sir. Buchanan who visits him late at night.

There's a knock on George's door somewhere around midnight. Luckily enough, if George wasn't awake rereading A picture of Dorian Gray then he wouldn't have heard it at all.

He stumbles through his living room, still half asleep as he manages to turn the doorknob open, letting the freezing air into his abode. He shives, promptly bringing his arms closer to his chest to huddle for warmth.

He looks forward into the cold, making out a familiar figure of the posh suit that reminded him of his father. Only it wasn't him, he was too tall to be George's father. He also held himself in the way that only high commoners would.

"Sir. Buchanan?" He inquires. The man in front of him grunts visibly shivering in the cold. George notices this and ushers him inside.

"Tell me what you want over some tea."

Sir. Buchanan graciously lets himself inside, with George following behind.

"Take a seat by the living room. I'll be with you shortly." George murmured. Sir. Buchanan gave him a grateful smile before making his way further into George's house.

He stood there for a moment, staring at the boiling tea kettle as it made small dispute sounds. His mind was a hazy mess when he got back to the living room, in arm with a tray of two cups of steaming jasmine tea.

"Here." He said as he offered a now warmer Sir. Buchanan on his sofa. The older man took it and whispered a soft thanks before bringing the porcelain cup to his lips.

George sat on the other side, next to the crackling hearth. His copy of Dorian Gray laying on the side of his armchair. He looked over to the other man, eyeing him warily before speaking.

"Why are you here, Sir. Buchanan?"

The older man stopped sipping his tea, and soon the silence of the room overlapped them. George watched as he fiddled with the rim of his cup, notably anxious.

"I'll be frank with you, George Davidson." He sighed, "I want you to join in union with my daughter."

His eyes widened, he opened his mouth the give the same answer-

"Your mother made me aware of your previous affiliations. I don't intend to give you a sudden change of heart, however."

The two of them sat in silence, a sudden heartsickness came over him.

"The reason your parents agreed to a union in the first place, was in hopes that you would forget and move on from your previous lover." Sir. Buchanan finished.

George sat there, overcome once again by the sudden emotion he could not name.

"I don't mean for you to move on- I don't even intend for you to have any feelings for Abby in the first place. All I ask from you is that you marry her only for the benefit of her safety. So that she may be as far away from the fight as possible."

George watched- appalled. As the high-class aristocrat man began grovelling before him. Asking, pleading, begging for him to help them. George felt this sudden sense of responsibility fall over him. It weighed on his chest heavily, suffocating him.

Forgive me, he thought to himself wistfully. Creating the image of Elior in his mind, bright and colorful as he laughed. George could still remember every single intricate freckle, he could still remember how mirth danced in his viridian eyes. You would have wanted me to.

He looked back to the grovelling man beneath his feet.

"Please, from one wayward heart to another."

Winter