#labrador 07-ghost

Just to have a little more fun with this question, I decided to, like most things I write for 07-Ghost, go AU! with this. In this AU!, instead of the canon setting, it’s something like Nanbaka – everyone is an inmate in this gigantic prison. The prison is segregated to a separate island, in the middle of nowhere, with the location so secret that only the highest up’s of the highest up’s know it. The prison is completely inescapable, though that doesn’t stop people from trying of course.

And while imagining this AU!, where fun and sometimes wacky hijinks happen, much like Nanbaka, I decided to give it a little bit more of an edge by actually stopping and thinking about what crimes would have gotten all of these character’s imprisoned. Some crimes are more on the minor side, some more on the major side, but it was interesting to think about.

Ayanami is actually the most feared criminal in the building. A war criminal, his crimes are seemingly endless. He’s been charged with inciting domestic and international terrorism, various war crimes, numerous counts of murder, identity fraud, arson, grand larceny, and treason. There’s various countries fighting to have him and his group of mercenaries extradited to their respective countries to face charges there. However, for the sake of public safety, it was agreed that this inescapable prison would be the best place to put him, down on the absolute lowest levels, where he could never be in a position to expose the world to more danger again.

That group of mercenaries that acted along with Ayanami I mentioned? Of course it’s Hyuuga, Konatsu, Kuroyuri, Haruse, and Katsuragi. All of them share their leader’s various prison sentences for the exact same crimes. Hyuuga holds more murder convictions than the rest, though, while Konatsu has additional charges for money laundering, general fraud, and other white-collar crimes.

Labrador is in prison for various eco-terrorism charges. He shows genuine repentance that anyone was actually harmed due to his actions, as it was never something that he meant to happen. He was just really passionate about helping the earth and the environment that means so much to him. All of his protests and actions were meant to harm only company buildings or factories, to hurt corporations, to bring awareness to the evils these companies were doing to the environment. He led a group of people who shared his same love for the environment and shared his same passion. Unfortunately, some members of his group, those who truly looked up to him and almost worshipped him, either thought he was being a little soft and they needed to do something bigger, more impactful, or simply wanted to gain his praise and attention, and things got out of hand, bringing mass civilian casualties. He lives with that guilt and shame every day, as it was never what he wanted.

There are two prisoners who are actually completely innocent for the most part. It’s not that they’ve never done anything unlawful ever, but it’s simply that the crimes they’re imprisoned for are not their own. These two both took the fall for other people. The first of these people is Hakuren Oak. Born into an extremely prestigious family, he was given the best from a young age. Very intelligent, he graduated early and his father gave him a job managing one of the company’s many businesses. This particular business, like many of the family’s other businesses, was mostly a front to launder mass amounts of money though. His father hadn’t figured on Hakuren figuring this out so quickly, especially since he had placed his son as head of the company to be mostly a figure-head type of position. When Hakuren did, indeed, find out about it, his father also assumed that he could either buy or threaten Hakuren’s silence about the issue. He thought he’d even succeeded, after a very tense atmosphere. All was quiet for about a month, and his father assumed that all was good. Except that within that month, Hakuren was gathering evidence of the money-laundering, which he then anonymously turned over to the police. When the police came down on the company, to avoid prison time himself, Hakuren’s father placed all the blame on his son. After all, it was his son who was head of the company and there’d never been any issues before he was put into that position. Torn between deep betrayal, hatred of his father for many reasons, but loyalty still to his family, not even Hakuren’s really sure why he just quietly allowed himself to take the fall.

The next innocent person within the jail? While this is a bit of a story, one of two best friends and the true strength and bond of their friendship. Teito Klein was a victim of human trafficking as a very, very young child and while he managed to escape by the age of ten, living homeless for a bit before he was caught by the police and taken into foster care. It was at one of his school’s that he became really close to Mikage Celestine. They became best friends, completely inseparable. Mikage knew there were things that Teito kept from him, especially about his past, but he never pushed Teito to tell him. He was one of the few, though, that Teito did tell about his past, though only a little, enough for Mikage to know that Teito was basically a human slave – bought and sold to various people who did unspeakable things to him. Teito, despite trying to live a new life, just couldn’t erase the things that he'd live through. They tormented him, especially since he knew that other people were still going through it. He trained himself, devoted himself, to finding ways to help either people who were still being bought and sold in human trafficking rings or in finding young kids who were being sold to pedophiles. Teito would find ways to help those victims and I’m not going to lie, sometimes that would involve a little (or a lot) of bloodshed. For years, the police weren’t able to solve the string of murders, disappearances, kidnappings and such. They eventually got some clues that, strangely enough, led them to the high school that Teito and Mikage were in together. The presence of the police spooked Teito, but not enough for anyone who wasn’t really close to him to realize. Mikage, who was really close to him, did realize though. There was a confrontation between the two boys and Mikage knew that Teito was the one doing these things, though he knew Teito had very good reasons for doing so and that Teito was only trying to help those who couldn’t help themselves. Unable to bear the thought of his best friend not only being taken away from him, having to live in a prison for the rest of his life, unable to help those who needed Teito’s help, Mikage took the fall for him, giving the police evidence and information in his confession taken from his conversation with Teito that clinched it in the police’s mind that Mikage had to have done it.

Teito was heart-broken and absolutely guilt-ridden over what Mikage had done. He loved Mikage a lot; that was his best friend. He couldn’t take the thought of Mikage rotting away in a prison for him so Teito allowed himself to get caught during a crime and kept kicking up a fuss, inciting prison riots, attacking other prisoners, whatever he had to do to get sent from prison to prison until he landed at the island prison where Mikage was. There was a lot of tears when the two reunited at last, though the guards do their best to keep the two apart as ‘punishment’ for their crimes.

Castor was, for all extents and purposes, an amazing genius and a very law-abiding person. He had a mother who was precious to him, someone he loved and treasured, a successful business making dolls. Then he hit a string of the worst luck one could ever get. His mother died in a car accident and he took it really hard. He was almost consumed by his grief and he was finding it hard to really carry on. It was only his beloved who kept him going…but only a couple weeks after his mother’s death, during a home invasion robbery gone wrong, his beloved was murdered. Castor was the one who came home and first found her in a pool of her own blood, throat sliced and, not going to lie, he might have slipped a little into insanity at that point. Well, maybe not a little. He slipped completely into insanity at that point. Grief, hatred towards those who took those precious to him away from him, all consuming rage…he just couldn’t handle it. His mind shut down, went into denial mode. To him, he had to find ways that he could pretend that his mother and his beloved were still with him. He did this by making dolls…very human dolls. He was caught and charged with kidnapping and murder. While in prison, he has received a lot of psychiatric help and is doing better, returning to the mostly kind and sweet person he naturally is…of course, it helps that part of his therapy is art therapy and they’ve allowed him to make large puppet-like dolls, which he lovingly crafts to resemble his missed loved ones. He talks to them often. A lot of the other prisoners find it more than a little creepy.

Frau was the closest you could get to a modern-day Robin Hood. A con man who stole from the rich and gave to the poor, he was arrested on multiple counts of identity fraud, grand larceny, online fraud, fraud, money laundering, various petty crimes, and two murders that he refuses to admit to. He actually seems to not mind prison life.

You set the last cup onto the tea tray in front of you, looking down at it with practiced eyes. Your fingers reached out, delicately and carefully shifting a plate, nudging it just the tiniest bit past where it had been previously sitting. Turning your attention upwards, your hands found the kitchen scissors and oh so carefully cut a fully opened bud off the rose plant that you took such pains to carefully grow that sat on the windowsill of the kitchen. As you settled the flower into the tiny, simple little glass vase on the tray, you couldn’t help but stare at it. Until you’d come to serve in this household, you hadn’t ever seen a flower like this before. In fact, you would have thought such a thing impossible – the deep blue of the inner petals growing out into a lighter tinge towards the tips of the petals. It was truly beautiful and something that you often found yourself staring at whenever you were in the kitchen, hovering near the windowsill you kept it on, particularly on your bad days.

Your eyes were just performing another sweep of the tray, looking for any imperfections as you waited for the water in the kettle to settle for a moment from its full boil.

“Is that for Mistress Anastasia’s tea?”

Recognizing the voice that came from behind you, you settled your expression into one of polite subservience before you turned around. Dipping into a small curtsy, you avoided the gaze of the house’s head matron.

“No, ma’am. This is Master Lab’s tea-time tray. I’m just waiting for the water to reach the right temperature before I take it out to his greenhouses.”

A curt harrumph left the matron’s lips, something you were used to. She always seemed to have something against Master Labrador. You knew you shouldn’t, but it was something you took very personally.

“You spoil that boy all too much,” she declared. It wasn’t the first time you’d heard that come from your higher-up. Far from it – it seemed like it was something you heard from her every time you turned around. You didn’t see what the problem was though. You served the members of this household, which Master Lab certainly was, and your job was to take care of them, to satisfy their wants and needs, and to make their life easier. Master Lab was someone who would get so caught up in his work in the greenhouses that he’d often forget to eat and sometimes even forget to sleep. On top of that, his own parents next to never spent time with him and with them having had no other children, Master Lab was almost always alone. Your heart ached thinking about that. It was a thought that always made you so dreadfully sad for him. Coming from a household of eight children, you couldn’t have imagined being alone for that long, without companionship, noise, banter, and fun. He must have led such a lonely existence before you came here. And if delivering him tea, food, and keeping him company for a little bit every day helped him, made him happier, why was that a problem?

Of course, you already knew the problems with it. And the matron’s next words only brought those issues to the forefront of your mind, up from where you tried so hard to bury them.

“And another thing. You’re much too familiar with that boy. Who are you to be calling the future master of this house by such a familiar name? That’s Master Labrador to you and don’t you forget it. Know your place.”

She fixed you with a stern stare as she spoke, her voice almost venomous as she spat the words at you. You bowed your head, gritting your teeth. The problem was, though you hated being spoken to as something less, her words held truth that you couldn’t deny. When it came to Labrador, you had become very familiar with him. Despite being just a lowly servant, he’d welcomed you into the household and had been friendly with you from the moment you’d started working at the manor three years ago. You’d found yourself dazzled by the pale, slight boy with the beautiful face and the kind, almost sad smile. But even more so, you’d found yourself entranced by the kind, sweet nature that he possessed. You felt at ease in his presence and try as you might, you couldn’t restrain yourself into the role of the dutiful, quiet servant and had begun to chatter with him as you might one of your siblings or friends. Throughout the years that you’d been serving here, you’d taken over doing almost everything for Master Lab and had become only closer to him. You felt a deep connection to him, almost as if you were the only servant in the manor who truly knew him and, though you knew you would never say it aloud, you were aware enough of your emotions to know that you most certainly no longer saw Lab as a replacement for your siblings, whom you had missed dearly upon taking the position.

“I think,” the matron said slyly as you turned away from her, pouring water into the kettle. You tried to focus on the heat of the side of the teapot against your hand, tried to make sure you were judging the temperature of the water correctly. Master Lab’s favourite tea was a white one, which would leave a burnt aftertaste if brewed too hot. It would weigh on you and you would beat yourself up if you served him anything less than the best. “That you would be best served by a change in position. At least temporarily of course. Report to Mistress Anastasia’s chambers in one hour. She’s just fired her latest lady-in-waiting and will need the additional staff until she is able to replace her.”

Your heart twisted painfully in your chest, your breath catching a little. Your eyes stung with coming tears that you refused to let come. Steadying yourself, you picked up the tea tray, focusing all your attention on that. You bowed your head to the matron.

“Of course, ma’am,” you replied demurely. There wasn’t much else you could say. She was, after all, much higher-up on the food chain than you were and you couldn’t go against her wishes. Protests would only further prove her point and besides, you knew that she was waiting, hoping for some kind of big reaction from you. She was goading you into it; she would enjoy seeing you upset, would enjoy seeing that big reaction from you and you were sure that you would not, no matter how badly you were feeling inside, give her that satisfaction. “I shall bring the tray to Master Labrador, change into a fresh uniform, and make my way to the Lady’s room.”

You swept away before she could answer, making a quick exit out the side door from the kitchen. You hated that woman at the moment. You were seething – you knew exactly what the assignment would detail. The ‘Lady’ as the matron called her was not only incredibly picky and demanding, but she had a short temper and was known for manhandling her servants. You were getting the lowest of the low positions. And not only that, but you knew you would be kept busy every second of the day, barely getting time to sleep. You’d have no time at all to see Master Lab – he’d have the other servants to wait on him, of course, but they wouldn’t think to do all the things that you did. A sudden wave of worry for him coursed through you, deep sadness dropping into the pit of your stomach right alongside it, causing you to pause in the middle of the courtyard. Your eyes locked onto the greenhouses you were heading towards.

Was it possible to miss someone before you’d even left them?

The question was an odd one and you shook it off, composing yourself. You forced a bright smile onto your face. Knowing that this would be the last time in a while that you would see Master Lab, you wanted it to be pleasant for him. You wanted to leave him with memories of your smiling face and your good humour. That sadness you could keep for yourself. Your shoulders were sturdy enough to handle it – you didn’t want even an iota of it to fall onto him. Once you were sure that you could at least fake normalcy, you headed, with quick steps towards the greenhouses. Didn’t want the tea to get cold after all.

You felt the immediate difference in temperature as you entered the greenhouse, the warmth of the inside a stark, but welcome, contrast to the chill of the autumn air outside.

“Master Lab?” you called out softly, peering around the greenhouse to try to figure out where he was. Your steps carried you through the rows of growing things, ranging from seedlings to herbs, medicinal plants, beautiful greenery, trees in various states of growth, to wonderfully fragrant and gorgeous flowers. You knew where you were heading – Labrador had set up a little table and chair set towards the back of the greenhouse where he liked to sit and spend the time he wasn’t tending to his ‘children,’ as he liked to call them. It was there that you’d be placing the tea tray, as you had countless times before. Knowing him like you did though, you knew to be on the lookout for him. You’d find him tucked away in some corner of the greenhouse sometimes, completely oblivious to your entrance due to being so focused on what he was doing or, just as often, you’d find him napping among the plants, laying down on the dirt of the floor with no care about his fine clothing.

Today though, you saw no signs of that being the case. In fact, as you approached the back of the greenhouse, you saw him sitting down at the table, staring out into space. You found yourself stilling in your approach, the tea forgotten, just watching him. His brows were furrowed, his expression pensive. There arose in you a sudden, desperate desire to set the tea tray down and to smooth out that furrowed brow, to bring his usual soft and lovely smile to his face. That, though, was something you knew you could never do…there was little you could do, but you did what you could to try to bring about that smile.

“Found you at last, Master Lab!” you said, your tone perky in its happiness. You beamed at him. “I’ve brought you your afternoon tea a little early. I don’t recall seeing you at either the breakfast or the dinner table, after all.”

You didn’t see, focused on setting the tea tray down on the table, the slight jerk his body made as your entrance startled him, nor the way his expression instantly lit up as his eyes rested on you. All you knew was that, at the chiding tone in your voice with your last words (he knew well your opinions on him skipping meals), by the time you looked up, he was sheepishly smiling up at you.

“Yes, well, there are some new plants that I’ve recently added to the collection. I woke up early to tend to them. They’re not particularly delicate but still…”

Labrador trailed off and you knew what he meant. Your Master Lab was always so careful with all the beautiful living things he cultivated and he tended to each new plant as one would a newborn baby, giving it careful care and consideration.

“Oh? What’s the newest addition to this beautiful place?” you asked, genuinely curious, which only made Lab smile larger. You knew it would, which was one of the reasons you had asked. Very few around the manor took an honest interest in his greenhouses, though they were his biggest passion, and you knew his parents looked down on his hobby or only used the medicinal plants within it for their own gain. You’d noticed quickly how excited and happy he grew when asked about his collection though, how happy he seemed to talk about them. While you asked because you genuinely enjoyed and wanted to see him happy – by now, it was where your heart drew its strength from, something you wouldn’t deny yourself as long as it was kept inside your own head – you had also, by this point, gained a genuine interest in learning about the plants that he kept and were interested in knowing what was new in the greenhouse that you had obviously overlooked in your journey to the back of the building.

You weren’t prepared for the feeling of his hand, larger than your own, long-fingered, soft, delicate, but somehow always cold to the touch, as it settled over top of your own, stopping your own hand before you could start unloading the tea tray. It slipped into your own, Labrador lacing his fingers between yours. You let him, holding his hand in return. It wasn’t the first time this had ever happened between the two of you. Though for quite a bit, you’d been reluctant to touch him, hyper-aware of the difference in status between the two of you, hyper-aware of your role as a mere servant in his household, you’d relaxed in that awareness the more you’d gotten to know him. You started touching him, little things like straightening his hair or adjusting his clothes, much like you would’ve one of your younger siblings. He’d always responded so happily to your touches, almost pushing into them and as you’d become aware of just how touch-starved he was, you’d made the gestures more often, though always when the two of you were alone like this. You knew the meaning of discretion, after all. But you’d noticed that recently, within the last six months or so, the touches had become even more frequent, instigated more and more by Labrador himself. The touches lingered longer and felt more intimate in these moments and though you knew you shouldn’t accept them, knew that you should draw away from them, the feelings of love you harbored towards him just wouldn’t let you.

You let him pull you along, down a row of the greenhouse, excitedly chattering away about his newest acquisition. You chattered right back at him, encouraging his happiness, returning it in kind, as the two of you finally reached the plant in question. His hand left yours as both of his hands came to settle on your shoulders, positioning you to stand in front of what looked like a silvery-white grass, it’s leaves curving and oddly graceful looking. Your whole body was suddenly sensitive to his proximity as he stood behind you, the front of his body pressing against the back of yours.

“Dusty miller,” Labrador said softly, his breath blowing across strands of your hair, leaving a pleasant, almost tickling sensation. “It’s certainly beautiful, but it’s real feature is in how it feels. Here, give me your hand.”

His own hand was already slipping down towards yours again, though you were quick to comply with his wish, letting his hand cover yours again as he guided it towards the leaves of the plant.

“You need to be gentle with it,” he murmured and something in his tone made you think he was talking about far more than the plant. “It won’t stand well under rough handling.”

His hand guided yours, his fingers positioning yours to run along the leaves of the plant, demonstrating how much pressure to use. A small sound of delight and surprise left your mouth as your fingers glided along the plant and you tilted your head sideways and backwards to look up at him.

“It’s so soft and fuzzy,” you said with a smile. “It’s almost like velvet!”

“Yes. I chose it, I’ll admit, because I’ve always had a fondness for soft things.”

You lowered your eyes slightly, suddenly blushing. You wanted to look away from him and your eyes lowered, but at the same time, you suddenly couldn’t look away from him. You were closer to him than you had ever been before and were suddenly super conscious of the hardness of his lithe frame as it almost cradled your own. You were so aware of his arm as he guided your hand back towards your body, resting it on your stomach, his own hand still covering it. Your eyes drank in the sight of his beautiful face, never meeting his own eyes, suddenly afraid that you’d find your own intense feelings towards him reflected back at you. Still, your eyes traced the curve of his round face, the graceful slope of his nose. Mostly though, they focused on the pale pinkness of his mouth, lush and full. You couldn’t believe you’d never really noticed just how soft his lips looked and you wanted to feel them, to test your theory as to their softness. They seemed closer now, too, than they’d been before, his face hesitantly, slowly growing closer to your own, as if to give either of you time to do what you knew you should, to stop this. His lips were almost on yours now, his breath fluttering across your own. They barely grazed against yours, leaving you wanting more.

More that you knew you could not have. Jolting back, you escaped his grasp easily. Your kind, gentle Labrador would never hold you if you did not wish to be held, that you knew.

“The tea will get cold,” you said, your voice artificially cheerful and a little too loud for the setting. You didn’t look back at him as you hurried away, back up the row you’d come from. “Come on, Master. You’re not getting out of eating another meal, not while I’m around. You’ll make yourself sick doing that.”

There was a moment of silence. Behind you, Labrador watched you walking away, his eyes looking suddenly centuries old, a weariness and sadness deep within them.

“Thank you.”

His words were softly spoken and, if your hearing hadn’t been quite so astute, you might have missed them. Still, they reached you and your hand went up to your rapidly beating heart, which felt like butterflies were exploding within you, resting there for a second. Your smile faded into a genuine grin and you half-turned, looking back at him and beaming.

“Of course. I’ll always take care of you, Master Lab.”

It was Labrador’s turn for his breath to catch at the sight of your smiling face, always turned so kindly towards him. If only you knew just how many times the memory of that sight had gotten him through…if only he could tell you. No. If only he was allowed to tell you.

You were already walking away from him again and, after a moment, he followed you, his eyes on your back the whole time, not just because he never grew tired of looking at you but also because he knew his greenhouse well. Though he tried to keep it nice and orderly, there were always tree roots to watch for or new pots peeking out into the rows that he just hadn’t gotten around to putting away or using properly yet. He wanted to be sure you didn’t trip on one or, if you did, that he’d have plenty of notice to catch you should you fall.

The trip back to the table went without incident though, Labrador listening quietly, happily, to your chatter as you moved about. He watched you, a flurry of efficient movements as he sank into the chair, already setting out everything that was on the tea tray. His eyes moved around to the plates of food, the slightly chipped surface of his favourite tea pot (only you would remember that this one was his favourite, not only for its lovely flowered pattern, but because it wasn’t quite perfect), but they kept going back to the little glass vase with the single bloom in it. He smiled happily as he looked at it, his fingers reaching out to smooth gently over the surface of one of the rose’s petals.

“I see you’ve been taking good care of the clipping I gave you.”

“Of course! I treasure it and, thanks to your help, I’m able to keep it alive. It’s thriving in fact. I think some of the other maids are a little jealous of how pretty the roses are. They keep threatening to take it away to brighten up their rooms.”

Labrador’s eyes widened slightly, his hand jerking forward to grab yours again. You looked back at him bemusedly, wondering as to the suddenly pained look on his face.

“No. They can’t have that one. That rosebush is just for you, okay? It’s only yours.”

“I think they’re only joking about it,” you said, squeezing his hand for a moment as you smiled at him, your tone calming to his nerves. “Besides, like I said, it’s one of my treasures so I’d never let them take it from me.”

“That’s good then,” Labrador said, relaxing back into his chair, his expression turning pensive as he looked around the greenhouse. “Are their rooms really that bleak that they need brightening up?”

You could tell by his tone that he was genuine in his question and that he wanted an honest answer. Though you knew you should lie about the state of the servant’s quarters, so as not to appear ungrateful to the person who gave you those lodgings, you had a hard time lying to him. You pondered for a second as to how to answer the question gracefully, picking your words carefully as you spoke.

“While the rooms we servants have are functional, and we’re all grateful that your family is benevolent enough to give us free lodging, I will admit they’re a little…spartan. We have what we need in a room, but that’s about all.”

Labrador nodded along to your words, his hand coming up to rub along his lips, something you knew was a habit of his when he was deep in thought. He was focused intently on his greenhouse and you let him have the quiet moments that you knew he needed to figure out whatever was bothering him suddenly.

“I have some lovely tulips that could be replanted individually, in wonderful oranges and yellows. Would that brighten up their quarters, do you think?”

A wave of affection washed over you and you grinned down at him, one of your hands going up to rest of the top of his head, your fingers giving an affectionate little scratch as you ruffled his hair.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea, Master Lab. You’re always so kind.”

“It’s hard not to be, when I have such a perfect model for it in front of me. Besides, it should send the right message and that way I can be assured that your blue roses remain only in your hands. That’s very important to me.”

His words stopped your actions for a moment, but only a moment. Curiosity peaked but not wanting to appear too invested in the answer, you poured his tea into the cup, glad that it hadn’t cooled down too much while the two of you had been away from the table.

“Thank you…but why?”

Straightening up and setting the pot back down on the table, you cocked your head to the side, a little habit of yours whenever you were really curious or confused by something. Your eyes stared into his large, dark purple ones, trying to read into the indiscernible expression that was on his face. It wasn’t really one you’d seen before and it left you only more confused.

“Do you know about the language of the flowers?”

The sudden question was not what you were expecting.

“A little. I mean, I just know of the concept of it – that each flower supposedly means something different. I don’t know what any of them are supposed to mean though.”

“I see…” In a graceful motion, Labrador suddenly unfolded himself from his chair, striding quickly over to a small workbench nearby. This was his domain, so it was no surprise that, despite being cluttered and something you considered a mess, he seemed to find what he was after with no issue. A minute later, a hard-covered book was being pressed into your hands. You gazed down at it, taking in the ornate cover, the looping letters of the title. The title was simple and direct – Understanding the Language of Flowers.

“Here. I recommend this one. It’s simple to read and the illustrations of the flowers are beautiful to look at.”

“Thank you?”

You kept looking down at the book, no surer of the turn in the conversation than you had been a moment before. All you could gather was that Master Lab wanted you to read this book and though you knew you’d have little time moving forward, you’d already decided that it was something you’d do in any second of spare time you did have.

“I look forward to reading it,” you said, smiling at him.

“That’s good. I look forward to that too.”

You were only more confused by that statement. Your head was almost starting to hurt as you tried to figure out how the conversation had taken this weird turn. Not knowing quite what to say or do, you nodded towards the table.

“Now eat and drink, before it gets cold!”

“Will you stay and have tea with me?”

You hesitated, your smile all of a sudden falling away from you as you remembered what had happened back in the kitchen. It seemed a whole world away, as most things did when it was just you and Labrador. Your stomach felt like it had dropped into your feet, cold reality overtaking you.

“I…” your breath caught, leaving you making a sound that was slightly strangled, belaying your distress even as you tried hard to hide it from him, forcing that smile onto your face again. You tried again.

“I can’t…the Ladyship has need of extra servants and the Matron has placed me there for the next bit. I need to get there quickly, I’m afraid.”

The clack of a cup resounded in the air. Looking down, you saw Labrador’s cup, now tilted on its side, the tea dripping down through the wrought iron of the table, pooling into a puddle on the dirt. You were quick to act, righting the cup.

“I’ll repour it. Did any get on you? Are you hurt?”

You were studying him, looking for any signs that the tea had splashed up on him, worried about any burns he might have sustained. Though it had cooled somewhat, you knew the tea was still very hot.

“No, no, I’m…” Labrador looked hesitant to say the next word. He knew he wasn’t fine, after all, and he didn’t want to lie to you. Instead, his words turned into a deep sigh. He looked up at you as you poured the tea but you resolutely avoided his gaze.

“It’s just a temporary reassignment. I’ll be back to serving you tea in no time, don’t you worry about it. While I’m gone, don’t you go misbehaving for the other maids. Try to make their work easier, please, okay?”

Your falsely cheerful tone was betrayed by the quivering of your lips, which you folded into a thin line to try to hide. You dreaded going to the Ladyship’s rooms, feared just how long you’d be kept in such a miserable assignment. Even more so, you didn’t want to leave Labrador all alone. You hated the thought of him being lonely…and you had to admit, inwardly at least, that without him, you would feel that same loneliness, deep in your soul. While you had friendly relations with most of your fellow maids and knew that that would help you in the coming days, you simply couldn’t picture any of your days being good ones without his presence. You felt like, without him, you’d be starved of something that was as innately needed for your survival as oxygen was.

You barely heard Labrador’s voice, a bare whisper in the air. You weren’t entirely sure of his words but, when you did a double-take, leaning in a little to get him to repeat himself, he simply smiled up at you. The sadness in his eyes matched your own, but still he smiled, reaching out to squeeze your hand fleetingly.

“Don’t worry. I promise I’ll take care. Just…promise me you’ll do the same.”

“No worries there! I’m always careful,” you smiled back at him, your eyes prickling with unshed tears again. For some reason, this conversation just seemed so final. “And, like I said, I’ll get this book back to you as quickly as possible,” you said, picking up the book and turning to go. “I should be off, though. I don’t have much time before I’m expected.”

Not waiting for a reply, you hurried off, almost running from the greenhouse. Labrador turned his head, not wanting to watch you leave. For him as well, the moment felt too final. He sighed deeply again, cupping his chin in his palm.

“I should have known they’d do something like this,” he muttered out for a second time.

It had been two weeks now since you last saw your Master Lab. The weeks had dragged on, despite how busy you’d been kept. You barely had time to sleep, tending to the needs of the mistress of the house. You’d been dragging your bruised, weary body around, trying to perform your tasks as quickly as possible because, in the few spare moments you did have, you devoted yourself to the text in the book. The more of it you read, the clearer you were on not only the conversation you’d had with Labrador, but on a lot of the little gifts he’d given you throughout your years of knowing each other. How had you been so blind to it before? Had it simply been foolish on your part? Or had you not wanted to see before that, hadn’t dared to hope and believe.

You kept trying to find a minute to sneak off to his greenhouses, to deliver the book back to him, but had yet to find a chance to. However, today luck seemed to be smiling on you. As you were on your way to the Ladyship’s rooms that morning, carrying her breakfast tray, you’d bumped into one of the maid’s you were closest with. At first, you’d been a little irritated. It had seemed like she’d purposefully bumped you, causing you to almost spill the tray. At her whispers, and the slight slip of her fingers tucking a folded piece of paper into your pocket, your irritation had vanished though. The second you’d gotten a chance, you were peeking at the note, which she’d told you was from Master Lab. It was his handwriting, the scrawling, looping letters so familiar to you, asking you to please meet him in his rooms that evening, far past lights out, at a time when you knew most of the household would be asleep.

It was a late night for you though. The Ladyship had had troubles falling asleep, something that was, of course, the fault of you and her ladies-in-waiting. She’d run all of you off your feet, her tireless complaints and vitriol going in one ear and out the other. The promise of seeing Labrador that evening had kept you going, not even caring one bit what she said to you. She was finally asleep now, a blessing you thanked whatever powers may be for as you slipped quietly out of her room. You tried to walk quietly down the hallways of the manor towards the servant’s quarters, even though everything in you wanted to run. Reaching your room, you allowed yourself the luxury of hurrying towards your bedside table, grabbing up the book he’d lent you. You had figured it was the right time to return it to him. The sound of your running footsteps seemed loud to your ears and once out of the servant’s quarters, you made yourself slow. You wouldn’t want to wake up the household – tonight, you didn’t want to be followed. You knew the house was horrible for gossip and you dreaded the repercussions that would come if you were publicly seen going into Master Lab’s rooms so late at night.

You ran only a few moments late. Despite being late, you still hesitated outside the double doors that led to his suite of rooms. It wasn’t that you’d never been there before because you had, plenty of times. It wasn’t even the first time he’d summoned you there. But still, you knew quite clearly that this time was different. Steeling yourself, smiling with excitement, you rapped quietly on his door, your knock barely perceptible. Labrador had been listening for you though, he must have been, because he beckoned you in before you’d even finished knocking. You slid quietly into the room, shutting the door slowly behind you so as not to make a sound. Hesitating only a moment, you turned around to look at Labrador.

You found him standing by the window of his room, your eyes going straight to him. He turned his head, a wan smile coming to his face as he looked at you. You swallowed hard as the two of you just stared at each other. His normally peaceful face looked so sad tonight. Despite looking much younger than he was, he appeared as someone much older now, someone weighed down by the burdens of the entire world. His lovely eyes, the ones you found yourself often getting lost in seemed to hold profound sadness and you felt your own eyes prickle with tears. Whatever could cause him so much grief?

“What’s wrong? What’s happened, Master Lab?” you whispered out, fearing the answer. Instead of answering you immediately, he looked out the window once more before he drifted towards the bed. Your eyes followed him, noticing something you hadn’t before. Open on the bed was a large suitcase and inside you could see clothes already hastily packed. Your eyes widened at the sight, the tears even more insistent now, though you still held them back.

“My parents…” Labrador began before trailing off. His fingers ran along the edges of the suitcase, tucking in a sleeve that was hanging over the side. “They’ve finally insisted I marry.”

“Oh.”

You weren’t sure what to say. This was not at all what you’d imagined the conversation would be like, that’s for sure. What else were you to say? Words seemed to be far from your capabilities right now. It was getting harder to hold back the tears…you felt devastated. It was as if someone had reached inside you, grabbed your heart, and lit it on fire. You felt a dreadful cold run through your body and your very soul seemed to be breaking apart within you. It hurt. Good god, did it hurt. You’d never imagined that a person’s emotions could cause them such intense, searing pain…hell, you hadn’t even figured that dying could be this painful. You wanted to run, but you couldn’t find the strength to even move. You swallowed hard.

“So…is the suitcase for your trip to your betrothed? Had you needed help packing?” you asked, just to be saying something. Packing for him was the last thing you wanted to be doing. But you were, after all, as you’d been reminded, his servant…why had you ever thought it okay to feel like more?

Still Labrador didn’t answer you. He stared at you, his expression unreadable for a moment. His eyes scanned your body, falling to the book clasped in your hand, which had fallen loosely to your side. When he spoke, the change in conversation topic almost gave you whiplash.

“Did you finish it?” he asked, gesturing towards the book.

“What?...Oh. Yes. Yes, I did. Thank you again for lending it to me. I’ll just set it right here,” you muttered, chattering away as you did when you were nervous, entering further into the room to set it on a table, set up with two chairs, that stood in front of the fireplace.

“Did you find it?”

“Huh?”

“Your blue rose. Did you find it?”

He was gazing at you so intensely now. He wasn’t his normal self – he seemed agitated, never quite stopping to keep completely still. He was moving closer to you, slowly, as one might approach a scared animal, but he kept stopping, turning a different direction, taking alternate routes. Through it all though, he kept his eyes on you. You were drowning in his stare, unable to look away from him suddenly. Your bottom lip quivered as you fought to hold back the tears. How could he ask that of you, now of all times? You didn’t trust yourself to speak, simply nodding slowly.

“And what did you find out?”

“The blue rose,” you started, your voice breaking a little on the words, making you pause for a moment. “It symbolizes the impossible…the unattainable.”

Labrador nodded, his eyes flicking down to the floor. Some emotion you’d weren’t quite able to discern twisted his face.

“You forgot a meaning though…blue roses. They’re the impossible and yet….they’re longing too.”

“Labrador.”

His name came out choked from your mouth, the tears you’d been trying so hard to hold back finally escaping from you now, sliding down your cheeks. You’d never seen him move so quickly before, his legs eating up the space between you and in the blink of an eye, you were caught up in his arms. His hands came up to cup your face, touching you so tenderly and gently, as if you might break into pieces if he wasn’t careful. His thumbs brushed away the tears as they came, his forehead dipping down to rest against yours.

He spoke your name so quietly, his voice breaking with emotion, his breath once again whispering along your lips, making you remember the last time the two of you had been together and, completely on impulse, you leaned up and pressed your lips against his. They were as soft as you’d thought. He didn’t pull away from the kiss but instead deepened it. His voice cracked with emotion, his tone deeply sad, almost desperate, his own tears joined yours as he spoke, his words shattering against your lips.

“You are all my impossibles.”

“Labrador…I…you’re getting married.”

How could he say something like that, knowing that fact? How were you supposed to ignore that he was leaving you, off to meet his bride? But, for a moment, as his lips captured yours again in a desperate, passionate kiss, you couldn’t help but forget. His arms pulled you flush against him, his need to feel you tantamount. Your hands grasped at the fabric of his shirt, felt it slipping between your fingers as you tried to close the distance between you even more.

“No,” his protest was hot against your mouth as he pressed kiss after kiss onto your lips. You responded hungrily, a soft moan growling deep in your throat. You didn’t want this to end. “No,” he repeated, drawing back to look at you. His hands came back up to cup your face, urging you to look at him. His expression was distraught, pleading. “Run away with me. Stay with me. We can go tonight. Please…please don’t keep me longing anymore.”

Your breath caught, your own hands reaching up to settle over his own.