Love Me, Little Butterfly - KINGSMAN

A True Gentleman

By the time I reach the airplane again, Eggsy has made his way back to one of the cells in Valentine's hallway, where the Scandinavian crown princess is locked in. His intentions quickly become very clear, as we get to see her bare ass through his glasses on our computer. Merlin turns off the screen before we get to see things we are not willing to witness. "Harry and I used to make love after we accomplished a mission together. And then we would lay in bed with a glass of champagne, no speaking, just holding each other until we fell asleep. It was our way of dealing with the horrors we experienced throughout the day." Hamish doesn't say a word. He just gives me a kiss on the forehead and then starts to carefully clean the blood off my face with a washcloth. I grab his wrist and stop him. "Would you like to have a glass of champagne with me, Hamish?" He lowers the washcloth and looks me straight in the eyes. "Yes, very much, Jane."

After I poured us a glass, the both of us sit on the couch next to the window. We stay in silence for a while, before Hamish asks me that one question I was expecting him to ask since the very beginning. "Why Harry, Jane? You could have had anyone, there are so many men at your age working for Kingsman. Young, handsome guys, and had you just given them a wink, they would have jumped at you. Why did you pick Harry over all of them?" I take a big sip of the liquid in my glass, before I answer. "Because he was perfect. So goddamn perfect. I tried to hook up with guys at my age, believe me. They were quite pleasing to look at, but that was all. They didn't understand when to take me seriously and when I was just joking. They were childish and insolent and had no idea of how to treat a woman. All they wanted was sex and attention, expecting their girlfriends to hail and praise them and see them as some Greek godship, showing off with their youth and strength. I got disgusted by them and decided to abandon all kind of men from my personal life." Hamish seems to be quite impressed. I take another sip of my drink. "You know, at College our literature professor forced us to read "Pride and Prejudice" by Jane Austen. I hated that book from the bottom of my heart. It was just so soppy, all over-romanticized shit. And Mr. Darcy. Oh god, how much I hated him. He seemed to be that one type of man all girls dreamt about when they were little and still foolish enough to believe that someone as perfect and flawless as the admirable Mr. Darcy could really exist. Then I met Harry. Harry, who knew exactly when to take me seriously. Harry, who treated every woman like a goddess rather than making her worship him just because he was a man. Who always knew how I was feeling and what to do in order to cheer me up when I had a bad day. Who made me breakfast every morning, no matter at what time I had to get up. Who bought me flowers without any reason, just because he wanted to show me that I was important to him. Harry was the embodiment of a true gentleman. It took him five dates to finally kiss me goodbye as we parted, and even then he still asked for my permission. He refused to use the word "sex" instead of "making love". He told me how beautiful I was, every day. How much I meant to him. One day I even started yelling at him because he was too perfect to handle and made me feel about him in a way that scared the shit out of me." I started to cry again. A wave of sobs hits me and leaves my body shaking in Hamish's arms. "How am I ever going to love again?", I ask him, voice trembling and broken. "How am I ever getting over this?" He pulls me closer, as if he tries to keep my heart from shattering by squeezing it tightly. Then he finally speaks again. "Jane, I need to tell you something. I am probably going to break you even more by this, but I can't keep it from you anymore. You need to know." Only now I realize that Hamish is crying too. "What?", I manage to spit out, wiping some of my tears from my cheeks. "What is it?" Hesitantly, he lets go of me and pulls something out of his pocket.

The small velvet blue box in his hand reminds me of the one my mother used to keep in her nightstand before Dean moved in. Once in a while, she took it out and looked at it, with a pained smile on her lips. "This one was supposed to be yours." Hamish opens it and shows me the silver engagement ring. It has the most beautiful diamond on it that I have ever seen. "Harry wanted me to keep it for him while he was on the mission. He was afraid of losing it." Carefully, he takes the ring out. "He wanted to propose to you after the whole Valentine-story was over. He told me he knew that it was a bit early, but you were just the one for him and he realized he wanted to spend the rest of his life by your side the moment he first laid eyes on you." When I don't answer him, Hamish takes my hand and slips the ring on my finger. "Harry would want you to wear it. As a sign of your love that will never be forgotten." And then my heart breaks one more time. And Hamish cries with me, until there are no tears left and we are empty inside and try to refill the hole in our chest with sweet, narcotic alcohol.