To Hell And Back | Granevere | Edited

Chapter Seven

"Gusion Paxley, eh?" Alucard smirked, scratching his chin. "Not bad. But I would've preferred myself."

"Let's split up." Granger said, not being able to bear looking at the brightest people in the room no longer. "You go look for our target here while I roam around the halls."

"You haven't even introduced yourself to our client yet."

Granger had already walked out of the room.

He just couldn't bear it. He couldn't bear seeing her again, and no less with the real Gusion Paxley. Maybe it is for the better, her being with him. And didn't she announced they had been engaged?

For a second there, the small part of him, safekeeping the memory of her all this time, thought he might have a chance with her. But perhaps she would remain to be some childhood infatuation, someone who belonged in the past.

But how can he easily forget when their reunion was the only reason he still made it to this day?

Every battle he fights, she was his motivation to win them. Every downfall he would have, she would always be the imaginary friend to enlighten him. She was his hope and he hated how he enabled himself to keep on believing there was even a chance they would meet again and never to part.

You are a shepherd dog now... not of the flock of sheep, his masters' voice echoed in his mind. And a shepherd dog... must fend off any threat which may hither to the flock... for it is what you were made for.

Granger looks behind him when he hears the clicking of heels approaching. The rhythm sounds as though they were in a hurry, as though they were running away from something or someone.

It is Guinevere.

Because she is running and keeps on looking back, she loses her balance, and Granger catches her in time.

Their eyes meet and the roaring voices of the masters had been silenced in his mind.

She smells of blooming flowers in the spring. There were more freckles dotting across her nose than the last time he saw her and her lips had the same shade of a perfectly ripe apple. But it was the scent of lavender emitting from her neck that made him feel the oddest of sensations.

The urge of wanting to hug her so tight that she wouldn't be able to leave him anymore, it came to him like instinct, until the ghost of a whip lashes on his back.

"Forgive me, sir, and excuse me." Guinevere said, nodding her head. She looks away, not knowing him at all.

His head felt as light as a feather as if he was happy to be so close to her again and he was trying to hide it. "Miss Guinevere Baroque?"

Guinevere turns around after being called. "Yes, sir?"

Granger summons a specific object from his back. It was her violet bow she threw away in the garden. This made Guinevere dropped her jaw. "I-It's my bow, from when I was five years old..." She looked up with a look mixed of confusion and surprise. Her emerald green eyes sparkle under the candlelight. "Could it be you-"

"The Death Chanter wanted me to give you this." He cuts her off.

"Oh." She choked, taking a step back. "Wait, the Death Chanter? He should be the one to give me this himself! Oh. He must know I have been wanting to see him again all these years, sir. Do me a kindness and tell him for me, please."

Out of the blue, tears begin cascading down her face.

She misses me? Granger thought.

His heart hammers against his chest but he forces himself to keep his distance, watching her burst all the tears as she clutches the bow against her chest.