I.
My thoughts wandered as my fingers touched the piano keys.
River flows in you, my go-to piece.
Tears started rolling down my face as I looked at my bedroom— curtains draped across the large glass window, a bed that could fit 10 people, a forty by forty picture frame hanging above my headboard, chandeliers laced with crystals hanging from the ceilings— so full yet so empty.
What was I going to do in such a big room when I feel so lonely?
I heard a noise outside my room. It sounded like something being pulled then hitting the marble wall of the house. I stopped. The soft melody from the piano now ceased, the room was quiet, only the sound of my breathing can be heard.
then, three light taps on the window followed. I went to check and there he was, Silas.
I opened the window, carefully, not making the faintest sound. He was on top of the wooden ladder, smiling.
"Quick." I said, waving my hands as if to tell him to go inside. With one last look outside, making sure that no one saw, I shut the window close.
"What on earth are you doing here?" I said, frantic. My hands pulling down the curtains.
"I missed you." He said, his eyes searching for the clock.
"How many minutes do we have?" He asked, clearly disappointed. I shook my head.
"Not long. Mom and dad will be back shortly, they're meeting with someone." I replied and held his hand. He kissed the back of my hand and pulled me to bed.
"Certainly, Jeffrey will look for me as soon as he noticed I am not there. " He said.
"Have you been crying?" He asked, worried. I didn't answer, instead, I rested my head on his chest while his arms were embracing me. Content with the silence, he started drawing circles on my bare shoulder like always. I could feel his callused palm— in which I am sure, was from his chores— on my soft skin. Our eyes found their way to each other. His eyes were the color of the ocean and mine was chestnut brown. Our eyes were both glistening, the only difference was that his, had bags under— telling me that he had spent all day and night working. His worn-out shirt was hard not to notice, his jet-black hair was disheveled, and his shoes had leftover soil. Silas has been working for my family since birth, his father, Jeffrey, was bought by my family as a worker. Silas works in the stables, sometimes, in the garden— if lucky, some furniture would require mending, by then, he could enter our house and get an extra income.
"Did my father not give you the time to rest again?" I asked, standing up. I went close to the table to get a few fruits from the basket putting it in a porcelain bowl.
"Would you like a glass of water?" I asked. In which he responded by saying he was parched. I looked at him, sitting on my bed, he compliments the room. My room does not look so empty now that he's here. It's as if, he was made to be here— with me.
I walked up to him and handed him the glass. I bit on the apple twice before putting it back in the bowl, just so he thinks that the food was for "us". He was too hungry to refuse the foods I had offered him.
"When was the last time you ate?" I asked. He shook his head, not wanting to answer the question. I elbowed him on his side while he was munching on an apple.
"Two days ago, I'm not quite sure." He answered, still focused on the fruits.
"Didn't father give you a whole chicken yesterday?" I asked him, confused.
"Yes, but I had to give my share of Food to Gemma and Kesley, they needed it, they would be performing that afternoon. That's why." He answered. Silas' family wasn't well off. He has to give his share of food from time to time. The money he's earning isn't enough for his big family.
You see, this is why "we" cannot happen. Silas; the lowest of the low, a mere Eight and I, Celestine— a one. Eights are slaves, they are bound and born to be poor. They were servants of the higher orders. My parents would kill me if they even knew that Silas, an eight, was inside the house— let alone my room.
He set aside the bowl of fruits and hugged me. His sadness was written all over his face.
"I wish I could give you something." He whispered. I held my head back to look at him.
"What are you talking about? I have you." I said cupping his face. What preposterous thinking.
"I love you, that is more than enough." I added. He tucked strands of my hair falling out behind my ear. In one swift move, my back was pressed on the mattress of my bed. He was firmly pulling my body against his. His proximity and warmth left me unable to process my thoughts. Whatever we were risking, I did not care.
"I love you too." His breath smelled like mint. He brushed his lips with mine. I let out a gasp, as if, for a moment— I was deprived of breathing.
"They will kill you for this." I told him— talking about the kiss. His lips curled into a half-smile. He stared at my eyes, the fire was prominent.
"If I don't, I'll die anyway." He said. Then, he passionately kissed me. He slid his hands up my body, drawing wonders on my chest. He softly swept his tongue between my lips, tickling my tongue with his. A faint moan escaped my lips to let him how crazy he was making me feel. I felt his body respond, his breath became heavier. He took his worn-out shirt off and I rested my hands on his broad back, my legs now embracing his hips. He cupped my breast over my tank-top and his lips went to my neck, sucking it— gently, as if, extracting nectar from an exquisite flower.
"Silas." I moaned. My hands went to his hair, pulling it. "Stop." Before anything, we both will regret happens, I managed to say, voice shaky from the tension. He pulled back, exhaling, I drew a deep and staggering breath in response to the wave of heat I felt. I could feel his warm breath on my face, there was a short silence. The room was serene.
Then, there was the sound of a car closing in, it was far and faint but it was enough for us to jump up and rushed out of bed. I frantically searched for Silas' shirt and he quickly slid his head in.
"Go!" I said practically shoving him towards the window. He gave me a quick peck on the lips.
Before he climbed down the ladder, he mouthed the words "I love you".
YOU ARE READING
Burning bridges
Romance"The world does not want us but that does not stop me from wanting you." - Celestine, one.