Silence

RETURN

Unaware but underlined I figured out this story
It wasn't good
But in the corner of my mind I celebrated glory
But that was not to be
In the twist of separation you excelled at being free
Can't you find a little room inside for me

Rikkard had never believed in higher power, the man upstairs who everyone wastes time on by saying prayers in which it will not be granted anyway. He is a firm believer of the idea that you have to work to get what you want, nonetheless if it is legal or not. Hopes, dreams, happiness and that annoying thing called love. Such a waste of time, a waste of precious money.

But his mother's words had sneaked its way into his mind. That nothing haunts you like unexpressed feelings. That so much unhappiness has come into the world because of bewilderment and things left unsaid. She didn't want him to be one of those people who live the rest of their lives regretting everything the didn't say.

He realized there is no shame in being honest, there is no shame in being vulnerable and it's the beauty of being human—of feeling things.

Rikkard shook his thoughts away, this is not the time to be philosophical. I need to find her and stop her from leaving, even if I have to waste a huge amount of money, so be it.

Everything with eyes could see that Rikkard Ambrose is glowing with fury. His aura dark, a huge mist covering his thoughts from the scrutiny of society. He walks in icy confidence, arrogance in his eyes and all those bellow him scamper away, fearing for their lives.

What a beautiful mask he wore. Layer by layer carefully made throughout the years. He had never expected for it to peel off the moment he returned to this nasty country. He expected that he'd leave immediately after he's done putting Dalgliesh back to where he belongs. He had it all planned out, finish their game, end some loose knots and leave.

But there she came stumbling into him, in his life, wearing the most ridiculous trousers that seemed to drown her soft and womanly body, except for her generous derrière of course.

For months he tried finding ways to make her quit, he had to force himself to address as a man. But then he saw her wearing that gown that she had so adamantly insisted to wear, saying that it was a huge essential if they wanted to capture his scheming secretary, everything changed.

He suddenly found it very hard to drill into his mind that she is a he, that she is Mr. Victor Linton not Miss Lillian Linton, proud suffragette. Then before he knew it, he found himself drawn to her, called her lovely, disposed her suitors and married her when they were in Egypt.

She was everything he ever thought he would never need. Someone to hold on to, tell him to show an ounce of kindness, therefore bringing warmth into his soul—His Little Ifrit.

His Sunshine who is currently about to board a train to London and leave him forever! Rikkard ran, earning gasps from women. The adrenaline, the thought of loosing her sent him over the edge and ran faster.

Come on, just a few more blocks—crash!

"Crap! I'm so sorry! Just—just get out of my way!" a scrawny man with a high-pitched voice cried out and pushed him aside. He growled and watched the little man walk briskly to the train, with his rather fat botto—holy shit!

Rikkard straightened himself, his heart beating erratically against his chest. With a deep shuddering breath, he yelled: "You there! Stop!"