Butler ~COMPLETED~

Two

I began packing my bag, a slight blush still tickilng my cheeks. Not only have i gotten the job, but he's invited me to stay at his mansion! Well, that's requred, as a butler must be available at all hours, but still! I slung my bag over my shoulder, leaving, and locking my door behind me.I smiled silently to myself as i walked down the road confidently. I popped into the pub to see Alfie.

"I know that smile!" He laughed, punching my shoulder. "Got the job?"

"D'you think i'd be dressed this well in any other situation?"

"Sorry, what's that? I can't understand queen's english."

"Piss off!" I smirked.

"Maybe you'll teach me how to hold a teacup like a lady!" He spluttered, taking a sip of his coffee. "Josh, why's there no sugar in this coffee?!" He yelled.

"Didn't you say you were dieting?" A voice called back from the kitchen.

"Yeah, but this stuff tastes like shit otherwise." He took another sip, grimacing bitterly. "Anyways, good luck, Elliott." He patted my shoulder.

"Thanks, man."
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I arrived, again recounting the amonut of range rovers in the marble drive. Four. Wasn't there five yesterday? He must be out. I saw a note attached to the door, written in what looked like ink from an expensive fountain pen.

"Show off." I scoffed. "Key in the second plant pot to your left." I glanced down, and saw a glisten of silver. I picked it up, opening the doors. I wiped my feet, staring up at the crystal chandeleir . the persian white rug tucked up next to the homley yet modern mantlepiece, a chaise lounge set beside it. I put my bag down, gingerly placing myself on it. It was amazingly comfortable, the sound of the crackling flames lulling me into a calm state. Not to sleep, but far enough from reality that i didn't hear the front door open. I felt someone tap my shoulder. I jolted, a firey lick of blush attacking my face and neck.

"Sleeping on the job?" He chuckled as i adjusted my glasses. I could see my nose turning scarlet. "I hope i didn't hire the wrong man."

"Sorry sir." I whimpered hastily, standing up straight.

"It's quite alright. Don't let it happen again, though."

"About that, you never actually told me your name."

"You may address me as Master St.Clement, or Sir, as you've begun to do already."

"No, i meant your first name."

"My forename is my own buisness, and i suggest you hold your questions, because i doubt i'll have the patience to answer them." He turned his back on me before i could say anthing else . "I'll show you to your room." He walked down the halls, and up the stairs. The floating, glass stairs. My legs shook slightly as i stepped as lightly as i could. I was shown into a small, yet cozy room. A small double bed with a closet and a few other things. "I'll leave you to get settled, then. Duties start tomorrow at Six a.m, sharp. Be up and dressed by then." He walked out of the room, a small smile on his face. "Good night."

"Night, Sir." He closed the door. I shook my head in disbeleif at my luck as i lightly chuckled, trying to stay quiet. I took off my shoes, and loosened my tie. I heard the faint sound of a piano from downstairs. The doors were pretty thick, so most of the sounds were blocked out, but i have sensitive ears. I slowly opened the door a crack, peeping through. I saw him, sitting at a white steinway & sons grand piano. By the looks of it, it was custom made, because i've never seen a white steinway, but then again, if he's got the cash to splash. I sank silently to the floor, resting my head on the wall as i listensed to his compositions, not a single mistake, the echoing pulling me into a trance as my eyelids began drooping. My head fell limp on my shoulders as i fell into slumber.

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I awoke at some time in the early hours of the morning due to the door being shut. I found myself on the floor, with a terrible neck ache. I sat up, knuckling my eyes and feeling around for my glasses. After retreiving them, i looked at my watch. Three thirty a.m. I stood and stretched, realising i'd slept in my blazer, creasing it. I spent about an hour straightening it out, then i quietly and fearfully crept down the transparent stairs, no railings to hold on to, so i had a hand on the wall, providing me with nothing but a slight sense of safety. I went into the large, insdustial - style kitchen, and sat myself on one of the bar stools next to the island in the middle of the room. I flicked on the kettle, rubbing my temples. I made myself a brew of coffee, wincing as i'd mistaken the sugar for salt. I held back a heave as i ran the tap for water. i gulped it down, not stopping for breath until the nausea subsided. I rest on the counter, feeling light headed. I then hastily cleaned the glass and mug, creeping back up to my room. I could hear an occasional mumble from the next room. I put my clothes away in the closet since i hadn't done it yet. then i organised my shoes. i scrolled trough my phone, then straightened my shoes again. But for some reason, i couldn't seem to make time pass. I felt unsettled, going back downstairs, taking my sketchbook with me, and i got the fire started. I sat back on the chaise lounge, putting my feet up. I flipped to a new page, looking at the ember infront of me for inspiration. I drew his eyes, his vibrant, full, glistening eyes. His alluring smirk. His tight jawline. I'm saying all these things, and yet he refuses to say his real name. It's like he's a total stranger.

I'm in love with a total stranger. Calling him "master" is going to be interesting.