Until I see you again

Bleeding Butterflies

The sweet scent of flowers was filled throughout the air trapped in my large luxurious room. There was a TV set on the wall, under that, there was a desk and a chair. There was two couches, both red velvet, golden and carved frames. I would've thought that was my bed until I noticed the door, leading into the bedroom.
      Once I opened the door, my heart skipped a beat. There was a bed, four posts at each corner attached to the ceiling, velvet drapery hanging down from the wood, the bed was a king sized it looked like, the sheets a satin red with dozens of pillows set in front of the headboard. This place seemed to big for one... Too... Romantic. I expected a man to walk out any second to tell me I'm sharing a room with him, but nothing, no sound but the sound my own breathing in the entire room.
I walked over to the bed, glancing at the two bedside tables with lamps, gold lamps. And set my backpack down on the ground next to it, laughing to myself before jumping onto the bed, jumping up and down. I shut my eyes tightly as I smiled widely in amusement, hearing the pillows bounce everywhere around me.
And before I knew it, I was in bed, under the warm and thick sheets, my body sinking perfectly into the memory foam mattress, my heavy eyes pleased once they were closed.
It didn't feel like even an hour had passed, dreaming about him. Our picnics, our road trip three years ago. I was fifteen. He was twenty. And then, the knock on the bedroom door, disrupting me from my perfect dreams.
I groaned as I stirred awake, gaining my consciousness back and slowly sat up, my back aching from the hours of sitting. I stood up, dragging my feet to the door leading to the living area and then dragged my feet to the main door, slowly opening it and seeing Dillan. In a suit. A white suit. Fancy for 7:00am. But he didn't have his phone in his hands, nor in his pockets. Strange. Especially for him.
"Morning, Mrs Calse." He said, his voice sophisticated as he clasped his hands behind his back, his posture straight and high, he surely seemed to believe he was royalty. But who I was kidding? Look at the hotel.
"Hazel." I corrected, watching him closely with my tired and half open eyes, squinting at the brightness of the hallway.
"Yes, well, I'm supposed to escort you to breakfast." He said simply, glancing over his shoulders then looked back down at me.
"Since when did breakfast become formal?" I asked curiously, gesturing with a nod towards his suit.
He cleared his throat. Even that seemed like a princely action. "St. Petersburg is a formal place. And this is an elegant hotel. And... Seeing you slept in the clothes you wore yesterday, I had a maid fill your closet with dresses."
I stared at him then looked over my shoulder for a brief moment. I didn't have a change of clothes. I hadn't changed these clothes for months. I looked back up at him and nodded, walking back into my room and shut the door. I made my way to my wooden closet beside my bed, opening the doors and stared in awe. Even from the glimpses of the side views, they were beautiful. They were made for a princess.
Blue, yellow, green, white, gold, black. Red. He always complimented my beauty when I wore red. It matched my hair and brought out the colour of my eyes. So I took out the hanger and laid it down on the bed, my eyes widening as I examined it. Off-shoulder sleeves that reached my wrists, with an attachment that would loop around my middle finger, giving the ends a triangle effect. Long. Silk. The beading at the wrinkled sides made the outline of flying butterflies, red butterflies.
They were symbolical to my mothers death.