[Part2] ⤀ 2] Night Flower Perfume
[Part2] ⤀ 2] Night Flower Perfume
An hour passes where I don’t even peep a glance at Eros. I keep my distance. He keeps his. I stay in my room, while he stays downstairs. When he comes up to unpack briefly, I go down quickly, through a servant’s hidden stair case.
Now I’m out back in the garden while the feast is had just inside, past the windows.
I walk through the lantern lit garden path, back and forth. I’ve sprinkled a Night Flower Perfume on my neck, that I’d been making and brewing for awhile.
It was an enchantment with a slight potent silence.
When Eros smelled it on my neck – if he got that close – he would be rendered speechless, for at least a few minutes.
It was enough. It was all I needed to talk without being snarled over.
I’m pacing in the warm ambience of twilight, wondering when Eros will finish his meal.
I still haven’t looked that way, but I know he can see me pacing out the windows of the dining room as he sits at the head of the table.
A couple of times, servants poke their head out the back door to gaze after me.
To check, I assume, at their Lord’s command.
I don’t go anywhere, I just wait.
When the time is right and I know the dinner will be finished, I continue along my path to the sea.
Once I start to take my leave from the garden, that is when I hear the back door slam open; quite hard.
I quicken my step and head down the grassy hill at the back of the property, where the grass turns to soft sand. I stand on the shore, half way between the still bay and the backyard.
It’s not too uncommon from that dream I used to have when I was a half-wit… half-witted for ever trusting him… I hadn’t even planned it to be this way, but I guess it was a strange coincidence that we’d encounter each other like this again.
Perhaps the Water’s Will approved my plan.
I sweep my black long waist length hair off my back and I expose one side of my neck to the moon light which is now shining down, as the sun’s light is obliterated by the slowly curving horizon.
I hold my hands in front of me, a rose in my palm; thorns still attached.
I hear his stomping foot steps – those of an Erebos intent on his catch.
Eros speaks with his classic snarl behind me, coming to a halt.
When I don’t turn and I say nothing, I feel the hairs on the nape of my neck rise as his hot breath fans closer. The fool leans in as expected and his nostrils flare as he breaths in the sweetness of the perfume.
I wait for the distinct choking sound... success... I spin on my heel in the sand, to face the giant predator behind me; posing as a Captain and a mortal Lord.
My eyes roam along my mate.
Eros is magnificent as always, if not more so after being hardened by life on a ship. He’s grown in size. His blue ocean eyes shine bright. His black luscious hair has grown longer, like mine, but his is tied back with that leather strap.
I ignore all of that, and I make sure to take advantage of his stunned silence and his brief confusion as the Night Flower perfume dazzles his male peanut brain.
“I’ve been silent... like that... for 6 months,” I explain with a brilliant smile, holding up the rose, I pick off the blood red petals in front of Eros, “Every time I wanted to talk, I couldn’t – nothing to say,” I glance up and raise a brow, “I’m going to enjoy this. Your return, I mean,” I smile even wider, the rose empty of brilliance, except for the thorns.
I hold the stem and I run a sharp edge along my palm, cutting deep until blood runs.
I do it slow.
I finally glance up to see Eros’ typical gaze, wide, dilated and unrelenting from my bleeding palm.
I don’t hesitate to slap my bloody hand on his frozen lips, smearing the blood across his face.
Eros remains frozen – eyes watching mine, calculating my moves.
But, I dare say he’s still confused.
“You said I was crazy, when you dropped me off here 6 months ago,” I look down at my palm and I let the blood drip to waste in the sand, “…I can assure you, Lord Edwin…” I reach up my second clean hand, popping a finger on his lip, pushing it past, into his mouth, across his cheek, past his sharp fangs to gather some saliva. I pull out my finger and I run it across my bleeding palm. The saliva heals the open wound. I know, Eros is only silent now, not because of the fading enchantment, but the curiosity of my intention, “…I’m quite sane…” I look back up and pat his neck, “Welcome home. Lord. Edwin.”
I walk past him, evading one arm that rises half heartedly to stop me.
I pick up my dress and hurry along.
Eros is astounded.
I had just begun.