A rose to grind

-8-

"Had enough rest, sleeping beauty?"

I rubbed my eyelids grumpily at the sudden intrusion. A haughty, up-right figure stood at the foot of my bed, forcing me under his condescending stare. At once, I recognized the slim outline of the Young Master. He had his arms folded across his chest, lips pursed as if he were displeased with my awakening. But oddly, I hadn't felt less inferior than him in the moment. I was bursting with energy and had no wish of submission. "Etienne...?" I let out, nails digging into the white cover of the bed sheets.

"The one and only. I was only gone for a meeting with the Peggris, along with father, and you caused so much ruckus in one evening," Etienne tsked, stepping into the view away from the solemn and noiseless, murky shadows. His pal, hazel were shuttered, concealing away his emotions like he had been frenetic of my reaction. "And the kitchen maid...What do you have to say for yourself?"

"It's all so nebulous. Care to fill me in on what happened?" I inhaled a sharp, quick breath, tipping my eyes to peer ahead at Etienne. I had longed to show I was unrestrained and willing to be expressive, unlike he who stored his feelings in a tiddly care to where it reached the very brink and led to an effusion of bottled up vehemance. Etienne, on the other hand, drew his eyebrows together, forming a perpetual creasing of crinkled lines. I had grown to notice the nook and cranny of his behavior but even then, the comportment he displayed seemed rather outlandish. He was acting skittish and snappy, tugging at his white sleeves. At first, I was tempted to call him out on his queerness but out of a good heart, I silenced myself just in time before I brought his pride down into shambles.

"You're speaking so casually to me," Etienne asserted cryptically, raising his chin at an attempt of dignity, serving a supercilious look. Between his words, I ogled at Etienne's snow white, slender hand that stroke his equally lissom arm. "Nevertheless, you're currently residing in my room, resting on my bed. And here I expect some gratitude coming from you." He seemed to have no intentions to carry on the conversation since his thin lips were sealed into a straight line.

"There's no use bearing grievances anymore," I said, heaving a forlorn sigh. I tipped my head back, meeting his silent stare. Etienne suspired melodramatically, rubbing his temples, being the first to tear his eyes away. I cocked my right eyebrow up, sensing as though he had more words to clarify that he kept hidden under a disguise of placidity.

"Well, I'll let it slide since you're injured," Etienne murmured, his voice hushed without any jeers. He appeared to be troubled by something. I noticed how he seemed less polish than usual, his usually combed auburn, flame-colored strands protruded in every direction like an unruly, old, willow tree. His field of vision landed on me when he felt my probing glare. His slender fingers left his forehead and he wore a invigorating smile before opening his sealed lips to assert pettishly: "Allow me to ask you a question, Yugo -- What is your relationship with a meager kitchen maid? The girl's been yapping at the butler for the past hours to let her in. Of course, for safety reasons, I didn't give her the permission."

"The kitchen maid's name you speak of is Jacklin," I reclined into the bed's wooden headboard, scoffing tenderly that was more analogous to a chuckle. "And all this obstruction is solely because of your jealousy." The bed dipped under the weight of my sharp elbow, causing a small aperture and the sheets engulfed my long limbs like a newborn baby.

Etienne snorted in a non-elegant way, rubbing the tip of his nose. His eyes caught mine in a fleeting moment, curving up amiably at the eye-contact. "You're right. I am envious. The raging jealousy is corroding my heart like sulfuric acid. When I like something, I want their everything, every inch of their skin...every breath. Can't I just leave a warning sign on what I like so that someone will know that what isn't theirs is not for their eyes to take in and to touch." The finality of his tone, the unwavering timbre and the fervid look in his globes; my breath hitched unknowingly, escaping my clenched throat. His wording caused a tide of goosebumps to capture my skin in a fury. I pressed the bumps, glowering and involuntarily shrinking into the sheets. Etienne sighed after seeing my reaction.