A Firefly's Glow

Chapter Thirteen: Part Three

I slowly climbed down the stairway with my fingers loosely hanging off the golden rails. My mouth was pursed into a slit and I felt my eyebrows furrow.

I had no idea if the staircase I was ambling down was a familiar staircase or yet another part of the house that I didn’t know if, which was why I trudged through each step without any careless hopping or skipping.

I had spent the previous fifteen minutes (well actually, the fifteen minutes prior to the approximate span of another fifteen minutes that I took ambling through the unrecognizable hallways.) stuffing my face into pillows and dangling my head upside down off the edges of the bed. There were only two separate thoughts that lingered through my mind.

I was back to where I started without any possible way of navigating myself through the maze of hallways. My first plan was to attempt to replace all of the handkerchiefs back to where they were—but did it make sense to go through all of that labor to have it torn back down into bareness yet again?

My second thought was the fact that perhaps Keita knew that the handkerchiefs had been taken down. The facts were that Keita had been forced to wake up that morning earlier than desired just to assist me with directing my path. Because of this, he had passed out during school. He possibly fell behind on his studies just because a low class-ranking girl asked him for assistance. If I had sacrificed myself for something only to have that something undone, I’d be pretty ticked myself.

Keita could probably sue me, have me attacked by his swarm of servants, or perhaps thrown into unstoppable labor. I had disrupted his studies, his concentration, and he hasn’t given me a single comment of regret. How could I have repaid him with undoing what he sacrificed his extra hour of sleep for?

So I had made up my mind. I was going to find Keita and briefly apologize. And I rehearsed what I was going to say to him while conveniently slowing my walking pace to two feet per hour for a broader amount of time.

I ran my options through my head.

“I’m sorry. I shall promise to massage your feet every evening.”

My nose wrinkled. I was apologetic, but what if he had terribly smelly feet?

“I promise to never attempt to run away from this exaggerated mansion.”

False. It wasn’t wise to create promises I couldn’t keep. I wasn’t going to run away from this mansion, but I sincerely and certainly knew that I was dearly hoping for a condition of release that didn’t require me to wait.

I hoped to escape.

Before I could think of a third apologetic option, a voice behind me softly inquired, and I jumped in response.

“Can you move faster? You’re blocking the way.”

I slowly peered over my shoulders to have my gaze exchanged with the mauve stare of Keita.

The first thought that lingered in my mind was the fact that this was my chance to apologize. I turned full-frontally towards him, attempting to apologize. But what ended up squeaking through my voice was a series of stuttering.

“I-I-I-I’m-I’m—“

Keita responded to my peculiar stuttering with his nonchalant frown.

“Why did you stop moving?”

I noticed that while stuttering my inaudible apology, I stopped descending the stairway. I peered at my surroundings in utter nervousness and I blurted, “There’s enough room on the other side of the stairs, y’ know.”

I was correct. The twirling staircase was wide and it would have been much more convenient if Keita had thought of traveling around me.

“I like this side better,” is what casually mused from Keita’s voice.

“I’m not that thick. It’ll take about three seconds to just go around me. You don’t need to get right behind me and demand me to move.”

I firmly ended my speech with firm arms folded tightly against my chest.

Keita merely rose both of his eyebrows higher up his forehead. After a silent second, he swerved around me and past my view, calmly tearing his gaze from mine.

My gaze followed him as he continued down the stairs behind me. I widened my eyes in regret. It was ironic how I had wanted to apologize to this dude, but instead, I suggested an idea for him to escape.

“Wait!” I instantly blurted, pursing my lips at the sound of my voice. This guy made me act so incredibly stupid.

Keita paused in mid-step and glimpsed around just enough to peer from the corner of his eyes.

“I . . .” I began, feeling the temperature of my cheeks starting to rise. “I’m sorry.”

“For?” Keita questioned, calmly and emotionally setting his arms loosely against his sides.

“For . . .” I began, fidgeting with my fingers in thought. “Um . . .”

He turned his gaze fully towards me, with both of his eyes set upon me. The mask-like stare he grazed me with seemed to send a chill down my spine. My body seemed to glue itself into place.

When I didn’t continue speaking, he slowly opened his mouth and calmly inquired, “If you want dinner, I suggest you follow me. I won’t argue with you if you wanna stand there all night like that.”

This snapped my attention back into place. “Right!” I answered, hopping onto every other step towards Keita in welcoming of the exit of the awkward moment.

Keita stuffed a hand into a pocket of his thin gray hoodie and he turned his gaze away, calmly continuing to robotically descent the stairs.

That night’s dinner was the first dinner that I’ll be attending since the first dinner. My stomach confirmed its hunger, but that’s not why I accepted the offer.

This was also an offer to lift away from my stressing thoughts of apologies. Perhaps after a full stomach, I’d be able to apologize to Keita.