*. & 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐃.

          ‘   AH   ,   MY   REPUTATION   PRECEDES   ME   .    ‘    cerulean   eyes   ,    luminous   orbs   lied   in  caverns   hewn   of   bone   ,  dance    with   suppressed   mirth   .    ‘   i   assume   Minerva   must   have   told   you   about   me   .   quite  naive   or   rather   ,   obstinate   that   one   .   ‘    scathing   remark   is   tailed   by   the   satirical   twist   of   a   cruel   mouth   ;   a   mouth   that   breathes   death   ,   bestows   death    .    ‘   simple   curiosity   i   suppose   .    ‘

“      she   knows   her   own   mind   better   than   you,   wouldn’t   you   think?      ”         knows   herself,   her   magnificent   pride   !   a   brave   dove   never   whispered   on   the   corners   of   the   crow’s   house   with   intents   still   left   to   be   discovered,   much   less   on   the   hardened   ears   of   her   curse   -   and   this   man   was   too   collapsed,   too   broken,   to   truly   believe   those   grey   eyes   belonged   to   a   naive   creature   instead   of   a   goddess   whose   hands   grasped   and   twisted   death   at   whim,   with   ancient   mastery.      a   brain   that   could   possibly   understand   the   very   stony   existence   of   his,   had   her   logical   barrier   not   been   present…   but   Nathaniel   was   not   his   lover’s   advocate   !    (    her   sounds   are   alike   thunder   on   their   own,   who   was   he   compared   to   her   entity?   )   but   was   the   master   of   the   parlor,   still.      against   will,   perhaps   -   but   still   the   owner   of   those   hallways,   and   the   voice   of   authority   by   name   and   right.      wine   was   poured   slowly   into   a   cup;   mockingly.      a   pleasure   the   being   couldn’t   join.         “      curiosity   murdered   the   fool.      a   well   known   phrase,   and   quite   true   around   here.      a   man   who   thinks   he   has   a   reputation   to   be   spoken   about   instead   of   seeing   himself   as   easily   predictable   surely   falls   into   the   category   of   a   fool.      I   would   be   wise,   and   leave   henceforth.   there   is   no   blood   inside   these   walls   for   you   to   take.   ”

         HER LIPS CURVE to a facile smile, bowing her head politely in acknowledgement of his kind, courteous greeting. she knows his name of course, as any proper lady engaging in solitary politics should. he’d wandered through the murmuring, appeased crowd akin to a shadow, borne from a new, hopeful sun. many took note of the new patron’s appearance & seemed overjoyed, for here was a man of medicine, whose reputation & occupation earned him only the highest regard. her hand withdraws after an appropriate pause, collecting with her alternate at the base of her ribcage. this is where her dead heart beats. she can hear his now too, sweeter than the lilting, lifting songs of the opera. blood  – like the rivers of the nile, like the red of her hair. 

        ❛ doctor ravenswood, ❜ she returns, noting to herself the pleasant way such a name rolled off the tongue. ravenswood – it had an air of mystery about it, some ancient weight clinging to the syllables. no matter ! they would converse as any lady & gentleman would, & once he grew tired, he would leave to mingle with other members of the fair crowd. she fancies that she might entertain his polite interest for only a while.       

❛ a pleasure to make your acquaintance as well. my evening goes well, doctor, for the music was as lovely as it                         was invigorating. may I inquire as to what you thought of the performance? ❜

   her    appearance    immediately    reminded    him    of    a    fox.    not    necessarily    only    the    red    of    her    hair,    the    strings    set    ablaze,    but    the    witful    smiles    and    lowish    tones    of    a    voice  which    wondered   &&   questioned    without    modesty.    Nathaniel’s    lines    were    boyish    in    return    -    the    smile    of    a    gentleman    who    was    used    to    such    introductions    and,    secretly,    quite    bored    with    them    all.    not    because    of    a    lack    of    interest    towards    people,    no;    ao    the    contrary,    it    was    invigorating    to    meet    as    many    lively    spirits    no    matter    their    alignment    !        are    you    good    or    are    you    evil?    do    you    pray    before    bed?    do    you    sneer    behind    those    that    lash    out    their    minds?

“    my    thoughts    are    rather    boring,    I    am    afraid.    not    exactly    the    best    element    to    be    shared    on    the    beginning    of    a    conversation.    ”        yet,    a    shy    happiness    was    eluded    between    the    lines    -    you    love    when    they    ask    after    your    hidden    joy,    don’t    you?        for    the    younger    dreamer    lived    within;    the    images    of    a    mind    most    wishful    of    musical    pieces,    instead    of    cadaverous,    sickly    ones    !        heal    the    world    in    a    proper    way,    if    artistry    has    been    denied;    thus    youth    had    thought.        azure    orbs    gleamed    with    flatter.        “        we    may    speak    of    anything    else,    if    you    agree    to    call    me    Nathaniel,    simply.    the    titles    of    medicine    get     tiring    after    years    of    profession.    ”

      she   reached   for   him,   now,   in   the   same   manner   he   always   had   attempted   to   when   they   both   existed   as   tangible   beings.   silently,   with   hopes;   and   perhaps,   wanting      a   sort   of   contact   that   could   make   one’s   soul   soar   to   heaven   itself   -   and,   leaving   only   the   tempting   promises   of   his   unsaid   whispers   -   he   refused   loudly,   knowing   better   than   to   fall   so   easily   into   a   bigger   and   cruller   trap   than   the   mere   illusion   of   still   being   someone   worthy.      had   those   fingers,   so   pale   and   fragile,   been   around   the   coldness   of   his   mist,   his   confusing   mind   would   wander   back   to   the   ideas   of   a   living   man   ─   the   one   that   wrote   her   words   of   love   !   and   desperately   had   kissed   her   amid   his   dreams   ─   the   only   place   where   her   heart   belonged   aside   his,   beating   accordingly,   softly,   hauntingly.

     his   darling   never   stood   quietly.      Nathaniel   was   as   used   to   her   storms   as   with   the   marble   keys   of   the   ancient   piano,   his   long-sought   friend   during   the   neverending   nights   in   which   the   spirit   never   quieted   down,   ao   contrary   to   the   mutilated   creatures.   while   the   weaker   bits   deep   inside   wished   to   pull   her   closer   -   to   moan   the   sweetest   apologies   of   the   world   against   her   skin,   for   indeed   his   rudeness   was   a   torture   thrown   at   someone   so   beautiful;   so   enchanting   -      the   remaining   coldness   reigned   powerfully,   even   if   flinching   before   her   snarks   (      always   so   sure   of   herself   !   of   her   imperial   knowledge   !      who   told    her   ears   such   image   of   him?   one   so   noble,   so   pure,   of    one   who   carried   faith   still   after  a   fire   that   consumed   it   all?      )   and      observations   -   useless,   were   they   !    his   once   beloved   was   a   joke   in   the   bigger   painting   created   by   the   devil.      a   white   dove   who   would   forever   be   unwelcomed   among   the   crows.   a   wishful   thought,   an   exquisite   idea;   a   lasting   suffering;         I   will   never   allow   her   to   watch   me   again.   damnable   are   those   grey   eyes   that   follow   me,   even   after   I   leave   the   room  !

nathan:

   ❛     such  a  wonderful  mind  would  only  rot  away  in  here.    ❜                 his  honesty  never  faltered.  it  stood  strong   (    yet  invisible  !   )    between  them  -  crossing  over  her  dark  eyes  as  something  intangible  -  perhaps,  worthless  when  compared  to  the  tempting  prospect  of  comfort.    still,  the  woman  needed  the  know  about   the   lamb  that  laid  helplessly  on  her  arms;  the  sacrifice  requested  by  the  shadows.     ❛        why  be  content  with  the  darker  piece  of  the  world  when  you  could   enchant  the  whole  universe?       ❜         

    THOSE  WERE  UNGODLY  MELODIES.  beautiful, yes,  that  much  was  true;  but  not  welcomed, even  so.    the  reason  why  was  as  fickle  as  candlelight,  and  not  half  as  soft  at  the  flame  itself  -  no.  Nathaniel  was  unreasonably  jealous  of  the ebony  instrument,  the  main  company  of  his  lonely  cursed  existence  -  and  those  dead  fingers  were  no  more  worthy  of  the  marble  keys     as  his  own.       ❛     only  family  members  are  allowed  to  play  the  piano,  sir.    you  better  step  away  from  it.   ❜