This Charming Man

Fourteen

Mr Weekes hadn't been any further than the market and said many times on the walk how much he had been missing out on these past few days. He marvelled at the flowers and the rolling fields, the grazing animals and the clear early dusk on the distant horizon like he'd never seen the sun set before and all I could do was smile.

"I didn't realise the village was this far away," Mr Weekes said, peering up at the crossroad sign. It pointed in four different directions; Merriborough, Angels and Kings Bath House, Lhanbryde and Marren's Eve.

"Which one are you from?"

"Merriborough," I said, "It's the furthest one. But grandma lives in Marren's Eve over there. "

Mr Weekes smiled. "Just from the names they sound lovely," he said and I shrugged and pursed my lips.

"I guess it's lovely but you wouldn't want to grow up there. It's really boring."

Mr Weekes chuckled. "For a kid, I guess you're right."

I tugged at Mr Weekes arm, suddenly remembering the parcel. "Mr Weekes, can I open it now?"

He blinked down at me and his lips spread into a grin. "Oh yes! Of course. We shouldn't be bothered far out here, right?"

I shook my head and lead him over to sit on the old wooden bench just under the crossroad sign. I remember when it was first put there; I was about five and had always felt pride in the fact that I'd been the first one to sit on it. It was dedicated to a man who used to live across the street from me and my grandma. His name was barely legible on the rusted plate and the hedgerow behind it was slowly starting to creep over and consume the back of the bench.

I took the parcel out and settled down next to Mr Weekes. I could tell by his anxious smile that he was worried I wouldn't like whatever was in this little parcel and I hoped for his sake that I did. I carefully unwrapped the paper to reveal a small black box. I peered at it for a moment and gave Mr Weekes an encouraging glance before carefully lifting the lid. Inside were a pair of... Cufflinks?

I looked up at Mr Weekes in confusion. I'd never worn cufflinks in my life. These ones looked horribly expensive, something I'd have to save up for months to afford.

"What do you think?"

I bit my lip. "M-Mr Weekes, I... These look far too expensive. You really shouldn't have," I said, attempting to give the box back to him.

He frowned and shook his head. "They weren't, trust me. They were a pair I bought when I first started working for this company. I want you to have them," Mr Weekes smiled hopefully.

"But... But why?" I asked, then realised how rude that must have sounded and tried to explain myself quickly, gabbling, "I-I mean they must be something special to you a-and I don't even have any fancy shirts to use them on..."

Mr Weekes chuckled softly. "They are special. But I want you to have them. And anyway, that's why I wanted to give them to you now. Because you agreed to come to visit me and I wanted to you to look smart for when we go out to dinner. The cufflinks are just the start."

I blinked. "Y-you... You want to buy me new clothes?"

Mr Weekes nodded and smiled. "No offence, but you do look like you could do with some new ones. I'd buy you a whole new wardrobe if you wanted."

I felt awfully overwhelmed with all these offers Mr Weekes was making and I knew I shouldn't turn them down, not when they were this good, but something in me felt it wasn't right to get Mr Weekes to waste money on me.

"Y-you really don't have to, Mr Weekes. I can afford my own clothes," I mumbled, putting the box on my lap.

"Oh, don't be silly, Brendon. I want to buy you them. You deserve nice things," Mr Weekes smiled and I looked away to hide my flustered cheeks.

"C'mon. Let me treat you," he said, shuffling closer and draping his arm over my shoulders. He squeezed my arm and I sighed and relaxed back against him.

"Fine. I doubt I'll ever get an opportunity this good ever again."

Mr Weekes shrugged. "From what I've seen, you lot get these opportunities every day."

I frowned. "Yeah, but it's different with you."

"How?" Mr Weekes asked.

"Because you actually like me," I said. I looked up at him and he chuckled and kissed my forehead.

"Oh I understand. Well I wasn't really planning on doing anything of that sort, just so you know."

I raised my eyebrows and looked down. "Sure."

"You don't believe me?" Mr Weekes said and I suddenly felt bad.

"N-no, I do, I do but..." I faltered and sighed. I fumbled with the box in my hands and slumped down against him.

When I heard Mr Weekes chuckle, I looked up immediately and frowned. "What's so funny?"

He smirked and shook his head. "Nothing, nothing. I don't mind if you don't trust me, Brendon, but it's going to make things awfully difficult for you when you come to stay with me."

I paused and swallowed. He raised a good point but I'd been offered these opportunities continuously for two and a half years and they just didn't seem all that honest anymore. I guess I did trust Mr Weekes but he needed to at least understand I was still going to be wary of him. I just couldn't seem to say it.

Instead I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. "I'm sorry, Mr Weekes."

"You don't need to apologise, Brendon, it's fine. But please believe me when I say nothing bad is going to happen to you. I'll keep you safe," Mr Weekes said with that awfully adorable smile.

I couldn't help but smile back and hesitantly sat up to kiss Mr Weekes' cheek. He quickly cupped my cheek, grinned at me for a moment, his eyes quickly scanning over my face before leaning in and kissing me softly. I was more prepared this time than I had first been and closed my eyes instantly. I relaxed pretty well also but as Mr Weekes' mouth became rougher on mine, the kiss deepening, I suddenly wasn't so sure of myself. I made these odd, soft whimpering noises and I could feel my cheeks becoming warmer from the embarrassment. Mr Weekes didn't let up, placing one hand on my thigh and giving it a gentle squeeze as though to assure me; but it didn't work and I broke the kiss and looked away quickly. There was a brief silence. I could still feel his lips on mine and I was trying everything to go against my instincts and wipe my mouth when Mr Weekes squeezed my thigh again and spoke softly.

"Brendon? Brendon, was that too much?" he asked.

I frowned slightly, annoyed at myself that I found something as easy as kissing so difficult all of a sudden and I shook my head. He knew I was lying of course.

"I'll go easier next time, I promise. I'm sorry."

"Don't be," I retorted suddenly and pushing the bundle of nerves in my stomach to the side for a second, I sat up and kissed Mr Weekes roughly. He was surprised at first, instinctively putting his hands on my shoulders, about to shove me away but relaxed almost instantly and gripped my shoulders to pull me closer. Our chests pressed together and Mr Weekes' hands slid down my arms and round my waist. I shivered from his touch and my back stiffened, my chest rising, pushing more against his. Mr Weekes suddenly broke the kiss and ducked his head to start laying feather soft kisses on my neck and I rolled my head back instinctively, exposing more of my neck for him. My lips trembled and I opened my eyes slightly; only to gasp and suddenly jerk away from Mr Weekes. I stumbled to my feet and Mr Weekes sat frozen, watching me, confusion washed over his features.

"B-Brendon...?"

"I-I'm really late!" I nearly yelled, brushing myself down and turned on my heel to run off. Mr Weekes got up quickly and grabbed my arm, stopping me.

"A-are you sure it wasn't me?" he asked, his whole face contorted into this worried expression that made my heart hurt to look at.

I shook my head quickly and jerked my arm out of his grip. "N-no, of course not, Mr Weekes! I really am late."

Mr Weekes nodded and waved his hand at me. "Alright, get going. I'll catch up with you later."

I gave him a quick smile and started running for my life.