Father had taken Ciel out alone today, to learn some other duty or skill he’d need in his future - hunting, father had said, learning how to shoot at animals, so he can one day shoot at people instead. There was probably something else, too, but Astre doesn’t know enough to guess them.
So, today, it’s just him and mother. The youngest is searching for her, for company, after seeing his father and brother off and staring out the window after them for a little too long (wondering, curious, even if there was little point in knowing, that his father clearly wanted him to know as little as possible).
The soft sound of music is a quick give away, and Astre follows it, peeks into a room to find the woman dancing alone, to the music from the record player placed at the side of the room. The sight made his chest ache, deep, right by his heart - she looked so lonely. Father should be here. Dancing with her. Not off working. He wondered if other Earls were away from home so often.
“May I cut in, Miss?” the woman’s youngest piped up, stepping fully into the room and pushing a smile onto his face, to chase away the ache in his chest.
back straight. arms high. head tilted. solidarity lingers ‘pon her frame, yet she imagines him within her grasp ━━━ she recalls his silhouette, the curve of his arm, & his breath ‘gainst her ear. her memory was so vivid, it’s almost as though he was really there, but alas, she holds nothing but air, with nothing but her footsteps as company.
she pauses. there stood her youngest, his soft voice trembling. his endeavor to overcome innate timidity elicits a smile. tenderness replaces the woe ‘pon her countenance. suddenly, vincent’s absence no longer hung on her shoulders. before her was her beloved star ━━ her astre.
‘ ━━ of course, good sir. ` she twists to face him, arm outstretched in invitation. the softest smile ‘pon her visage. ‘ it will be my honor. `
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