#tafwvg

Part 3:

Watering

“What’s wrong with them...?” Joanna asked frowning as she knelt before you in your hay mattress, poking and prodding at you. “They look sick. They will be contagious and kill us all...”

You had been laying there for fifteen minutes now, turning the little silver case in your hand over and over, sighing from time to time. You looked at your bandaged hand once or twice, but didn’t do much else, still in a daze.

Jolie frowned as well, marched up to Joanna, grabbed her by the arm and pulled her up, tossing her away from you.

“Leave them alone! You just want create drama!” she yelled at her angrily, then plopped down next to you and soothed your hair. “Did she hurt you? Darling? Can you hear me? What happened in the Stockill’s office...?”

Slowly you blinked and turned your luminous eyes towards her, refocusing and forcing yourself to come back to reality. She smiled, seeing as you slowly came back and helped you sit up, holding you close.

“Well...” you whispered, then looked at everyone and hid against her. “Uh...”

Jolie sighed and turned to everyone. “Can you give us some space, please?” she asked firmly and everyone scurried away to find something else to do. She turned back to you with a smile. “There... we have a bit more privacy...”

You nodded, took a deep breath and started to tell her what happened at the office. “And then he caught me in his arms...” you whispered, your voice shaking. “I-I didn’t know what to do, seeing him smile like that. S-so I had one those episodes where I scream and cry...? I couldn’t help myself, it was so... horrific, but at the same time it was calming? I’m not sure how to describe it. I cut my hand on the case, so when I finally calmed down he bandaged it for me... He was so... sweet about it, too... Oh Jolie, what’s wrong with me??”

The young woman bit her lower, frowning, deep in thought. He shook her silvery hair and rested her head on yours, taking a deep breath.

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you... but are you sure this was Stockill? THE Stockill? He wouldn’t happen to have a twin somewhere hidden, right??” she whispered, caressing your braid. “It’s most peculiar... You say this ribbon is from his vest?? It’s so pretty...” ”Oh yes!” you said, a bit more happily than you though you’d say it. “It’s so soft and shiny... And  look, he gave me the case, said I could find some use for the tools inside. They’re called lancets, they’re like fleams but more delicate. He apparently disapproves of Lymer using fleams in the bloodletting room... Said they were for cattle.” You produced the case, gently popped it open and slid the lancets out of it, showing them to Jolie who took one and opened it, marveling at how delicate the things was.

“They are silver you say??” she said, putting it against the candle light to see it better.

“I-I’m not sure if the lancet itself is, but the case is! The handles are bones... And look it’s got his initials on it... M. S. Mo-uhm...” you said, starting to say his name out loud but then stopping and covering your mouth, blushing.

“Darling? What’s wrong??” Jolie said, caressing your cheek gently. “You’re feeling a bit warm, do you feel ill?” ”I-N-no, it’s fine, I’m fine!” you said, smiling softly and shaking your head.

“You were saying something before that, what was it? His name?” she asked, smiling back.

“Ah, yes... But he didn’t say what his first name was, though...” you said, looking down at the case and tracing the M.

You had lied to Jolie, you had lied to your Captain, to your best friend, to who you considered your soulmate... and what scared you the most was how easy you had done it, how easily the words had rolled down your tongue, spoken with a casual tone that unnerved you more than Stockill’s smile, even.

And the way Jolie nodded and shrugged, still examining the lancet, taking your lie as the bare truth... it broke something in you.

<<What am I doing...?>> you thought to yourself, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. But you couldn’t help it, he had told you not to speak his name outside of his office... or there might be consequences. And you didn’t want said consequences, especially when it came to him, because you know that there was a 50/50 chance they would be not be aimed at you but at one of your loved ones, in concrete Jolie herself. And you couldn’t have that happen to her, she shouldn’t be touched. She had already been through enough...

“Darling... Darling?” Jolie said for what seemed to be the fourth time. “Ah, there you are, I thought you had left me again! I was saying that they could be used to pick the cell door if you really wanted. I think Vee knows how.”

You blinked at her, then chuckled and nodded, the idea that Veronica of all people knew how to pick a lock causing hilarity in your mind.

“Vee?? Really??” you laughed softly, shaking your head.

“I swear! I picked the lock of my collar back in quarantine! I think one of her acts was her picking a lock to get herself out of a cage, I’m not sure if I remember it correctly,” Jolie said with one of her equally silvery laughs.

Just then there was a rattle on the cell door, and you all jumped to your feet, pressing against the walls as was now your custom. The door opened and Anthony came in with Cora, one of the newest maids. They were carrying two baskets and then wheeled in a cart, all of them laddened with food.

You all gasped but didn’t move as they set everything down, Anthony looking up.

“Breakfast, the asylum’s director sends it, with his regards...” he said, his voice sounding a bit more hollow than usual. He looked over at you and gave yo a soft smile. “Everything okay?”

You nodded, holding Jolie’s arm tightly in yours. You had never trusted neither the wardens nor the chasers, but Anthony had always felt different than the others. He never yelled, he was only rough when needed, and he always treated you all with respect, no matter what. In turn you didn’t make his life harder and obeyed him sincerely, knowing he wasn’t going to hurt you. Still, him being a warden gave him an authority you’d never be able to aspire to, being an inmate. You weren’t equals, that scared you a bit and thus, you never could fully relax around him.

After leaving everything, reminding them not to hoard food, he left, giving you a little wave before locking the door and gently pulling down the blanket from the outside.

As if a spell was broken, and after Sir Edward gave you the go, you moved towards the food in unison, like one single organism moving on it’s own. You opened one basket and started to pull out sandwiches, giving everyone one, and then when everyone had been accounted for, you gave them a second one, finding out there was quite more than enough again.

Meanwhile Jolie had opened the other basket and was giving then small meat pies, making sure everyone got their share. You got up sand examined the cart, finding teacups, little jugs of cream, lumps of sugar in little sugar bowls, cookies, little petit fours cakes, tiny glasses, and bottles of juice together with two big pots, one of coffee and one of tea, being kept warm by ingenious little lamps underneath.

Serving everyone their requests, you finally sat down with Jolie in your mattress and started to eat, frowning a bit.

“What is it darling?” Jolie asked, licking her fingers after eating a little vanilla cake.

“Do you think the others are being given the same treatment? I mean, they keep telling us not to hoard food, but it’s so much!” you said, giving Basil a bit of pie before biting into it.

“Yes, I’ve been wondering the same myself. Maybe after we’ve had our fill we can ask Anthony to give the others some of this? They never said not to share, only not to hoard, right?” Jolie said, smiling and nodding. “Everyone deserves to eat these, they’re so good!”

You giggled and nodded, dabbing Jolie’s nose with a bit of frosting from her own cake, making her laugh louder.

Several moments and several bites later, you all were full like you had never been before. Rubbing your belly, you slumped against Jolie and blinked at her lazily, feeling sleep trying to close your eyes.

“God, I’m so... full...” you murmured, stiffling a small burp. “Oh, I’m sorry... I’m just... that was so much...”

Jolie nodded, unable to speak, content like a cat.

“Oh, blimey. I think I won’t be eatin’ another bite o’ food a long time...” Veronica sighing, sprawled on her mattress, looking at Valentine upside down.

“Mhmm... It was just so good. I wonder who cooked all of this, it was marvelous, and the tea!” Emily said with a smile, laying on her tummy on her own mattress, reaching to caress Vee’s cheek.

The others were either still eating or too full to answer, but the general feeling int he cell was one of relaxed happiness and content, everyone looking so much better than they had in all their years there.

After a second, you stood up, grabbed onto the wall for balance, and slowly walked up to the bars, knocking a small rock on them. “Anthony?” you called softly, prying the blanket away a little to look around.

“Yes?” he said, swiftly appearing in your line of view and making you squeak. “Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to spook you. What can I do for you, dear?”

You blushed at the term of endearment, still not used to his gentle treatment. “I-WE were wondering if you could take the rest of the food to the other cells... There’s far too much for us alone, and I fear we might hoard out of anxiety if we kept it here a bit too long...” you said, blinking up at him.

The young warden regarded you for a moment, then smiled softly. “Of course...” he said, then nodded to you. “You know the drill...”

You nodded back and walked up to the wall, but when he saw the state of the others, he relaxed and chuckled. “What’s so funny?” you asked, walking behind him.

“Oh, nothin’. Just... you all look like chubby cats after a good meal, loungin’ about. Only thing you need is a ray of sunshine,” he said, helping you pack the rest of the food up. He paused, then gave you a cookie with a wink. “For lat’r...”

You blushed again, but smiled a bit and nodded, putting it in your shift’s pocket, then helped him with the baskets as he pushed the cart out. “Here you go. Thank you, Anthony, you’re being very kind... I-it’s not normal within the wardens to be this kind... It’s a bit bizarre,” you said, finally airing out your concerns.

The young warden laughed softly, his laughter sounding like a river to your ears, then nodded. “It’s true, most o’ the wardens and chasers are mean old bats... But I don’t see the point in that. You’re all already sufferin’ enough, no need to add to the pile. Alrigh’, off you go, dear. Go have a nap...” he said, winking again and locking the door, walking off with the baskets first.

You nodded, waved happily at him and then covered the door again, resting back on the bars. <<You’re all already sufferin’ enough, no need to add to the pile...>> His words echoed in your head as you finally walked back to your mattress, finding Jolie already fast asleep on it. You snuggled into her arms and sighed contently, burrowing your face in the crook of her neck, feeling her pull you close. If only all of this lasted forever...

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“Did you like the breakfast I sent, pet...?” Stockill’s voice wafted towards you from the window as you sat in his cot.

You had been summoned to his office by Madame Mournigton again a few hours after you had fallen asleep, safe in Jolie’s arms. The banging on the bars and Maudsley barking of your inmate number had rudely awoken you. Fixing your shift and your hair, you walked up to the bars and asked icily what was that he wanted.

“Careful with that tone, precious...” he had sneered at you, then rolled his eyes. “’avin’ clean clofes and a bit o’ food has made you insolent, innit?? I could teach you a lesson or two about comin’ down a peg... keep you ‘umble...”

He had reached through the bars and taken you by the waist, pulling you roughly towards him, just as you were pressed against the bars, the old lady’s voice echoed down the corridor:

“STOP THAT AT ONCE, YOU BRUTE!”

The chaser growled and pushed you away, making you stumble a bit and hug the wall for balance, your breath ragged, your cheeks flushed from the surprise and indignation.

“Awh, ma’am, but sees?? They likes it!” he laughed his old dog’s laugh, showing his rows of yellowed teeth. “Fine, fine. Step back, I’m openin’ the door!” You did as instructed, still reeling from his actions, and Madame Mournington stepped inside, taking your elbow and walking out with you stiffly.

“My son has summoned you again... hurry,” she said simply, sternly as always, but with more curiosity in her voice than venom.

You nodded and followed her, trying to keep up with her brisk pace. Finally reaching the doctor’s office, she let go gently of you, raising an eyebrow just like you had seen Stockill do and pushed you inside, closing the door behind her.

“I asked,” Stockill’s voice brought you back to the present, your head snapping back at him so fast your neck popped. “If you liked the breakfast I had sent you this morning, pet...”

His cold fingers caressed your cheek as you looked up at him and nodded. It took all you had in yourself to not lean into his fingers... what was happening? Why did you yearn for his touch like this when previously you had avoided it at all costs??

<<He’s acting kind, darling... We humans respond to kindness. Do be careful...>> Jolie had said to you while you ate and chatted more about your first office trip. Yes, that was probably it. After years of neglect and abuse, any type of kindness was welcomed... but then why did you distrust Anthony so much but not the doctor...?

“I’m glad, pet. You do look with a bit more colour. I was instructed that you decided to share the rest of it with the other cells... I find that most, ah, endearing of you. Shows you have a good heart. Would you say you have a good heart in this chest of yours, pet...?” he said, sitting next to you and gently poking at the top of your chest, right under your collarbones.

This made you blush fiercely, squeaking a little as you did so. “I-I wouldn’t know about that doc-M-Montmorency... I just thought, since we shouldn’t hoard, you know? Maybe it shouldn’t be wasted either? They are just as hungry as we are in my cell...” you said softly, turning your eyes up at him again.

You two were so close you could count all of his long, dark lashes. Was that a beauty mark under his left eye...? You reached up to touch it absentmindedly, and your were surprised he let you. Gently your fingers cupped his left cheek and he actually leaned on you, his dark eyes fluttering shut. What was he doing...?

It was a moment before you realised he had rounded your waist with his hand and had left it there as you caressed his cheek, this tiny gesture of intimacy making you swoon a bit from how hard you were blushing. But then you noticed just that, you were blushing from... nervousness, shyness. You weren’t blushing from disgust and indignancy like you had when Maudsley had done the same. It was confusing to say the least.

“Mont-Montmorency...?” you started, but then you stopped and closed your mouth just as he opened his eyes and looked at you.

“Yes, pet?” he said, almost purred, raising an eyebrow. “Is something bothering you?”

You looked at him long and hard, then decided to go for it, what was the worst that could happen? If  he was on a kindness streak then maybe you could use it for you and your friends’ benefit counsciously for once...

“Maudsley, when Madame Mournington summoned me for you...” you started. Was that a wince at his mother’s mention? No, you must’ve had imagined it, a trick fo the light. “He grabbed me by the waist and pulled me against the bars. He was being, uhm, lewd about it. If it hadn’t been for Madame, I don’t know...”

Your voice trailed off and you started ro recoil, retrieving your hand from his face as it darkened, his eyes turning to black cold voids as you spoke, his grip on you tightening.

“Mon-Mon...Montmorency??” you squeaked, feeling panic starting to extend it’s toxic tendrils around you. “Montmorency?? Stockill! It hurts!”

Just as suddenly as he has shifted into this scary countenance, he shifted back, his grip loosening, his free hand quickly cupping your cheek. “Oh, pet, I apologise... I shouldn’t lose control like that, not with you!” he said softly, scrutinizing your face. “Please do forgive me, don’t be scared. I will not hurt you if you give me no reason, pet.” His fingers gently massaged your waist as you nodded, relaxing slowly into his touch, finally giving in and leaning into his hand, making him smile softly. “I just... I thought I had angered you...” you whispered.

He chuckled, resting your head against his chest. “You? Anger me? Unless you ignore my orders you will never anger me, pet. No, it was that beastly creature that angered me. His treatment of you. Of course, you might’ve done something to invite such a reaction, but how can one blame you fully? You’re so innocent, so... disconnected frm your environment, and you’re so adorable. How can that be fully your fault?” he said softly, using his index finger to lift your chin up. “You must protect your virtue from now on, pet. Never look any one else in the eye like you’re looking at me right now, no warden, no chaser, no helper, no maid... Just me. Do not give any of those ungodly creatures any reason to offend you again. Can you do that for me, pet?”

You looked up at him, baffled. His words were sweet, but at the same time carried an edge that you couldn’t quite comprehend. Had it really been something you did? What did you do to deserve that treatment? Was it a tiny bit your fault? Your eyes watered, unable to help tearing up at the realization that maybe it had been partly your fault after all, had you not been so sassy when you talked to him...? But you had seen him do that to countless other inmates, regardless of their tone... then why-?

“Why are you crying pet?? Did he hurt you that bad??” Stockill asked, quickly dabbing at your eyes, gently drying up your tears. “You need to tell me at once, I’ll see to it that he’s punished!”

You shook your head gently and pressed your cheek against his hand. “I-I’m sorry for having fostered such a reaction in him... I-I didn’t mean to...” you whimpered, closing your eyes and burrowing your face in his hand, starting to sob. “I hate it when he touches me, having him near makes my skin crawl! I-I didn’t know it was my fault-!”

Stockill put one his long indexes on your lips and cupped your cheeks, making you look up. “Shhh, pet, of course you didn’t know. You’re a lamb in a wolves’ den, how could you know? Shhh, it’s alright, my wee lamb, it’s alright. I will protect you and your herd from the wolves and their advances. You just need obey me and I promise you will be safe. I will be your shepherd...” he whispered, his breath minty and cold against your hot skin. “What say you...?”

You were even closer now, you could see the softness of his lips, hear his quiet and measured breathing, and for some reason your heart skipped a beat. There was only one answer, one true, good, real answer. And your gave it to him without hesitation, as if you were drawn to it, as if you couldn’t say anything else.

“Yes, Montmorency...” you whispered softly.

Without warning, then, he pressed his lips against yours and kissed you gently at first. You squeaked into the motion, totally taken off guard, but your body reacted before your mind could and you kissed him back, holding onto the lapels of his waistcoat as he drew you nearer, a hand migrating to your waist again. You felt yourself being pressed against his body and got surprised at how dense he felt. Did he indulge in exercise? What was it called? Calisthenics? But he wasn’t uncomfortable, his arms were warm and gentle around you, a hand cupping the back of your head as you two kissed, your eyes fluttering shut.

His eyes didn’t close, though, no. They were trained on you, on your reactions, scrutinizing, calculating... He deepened the kiss and his eyes flashed satifactorily when you let out a soft sound, pressed against him, his hand firmly on the small of your back, feeling your warm skin underneath your shift. For once in his life he was... feeling. He didn’t  know what it was, he couldn’t understand it, just as he couldn’t understand the fascination you ignited in him. But for once he didn’t recoil at someone’s touch that wasn’t his mother’s. In fact he relished your hands on his chest, that then travelled to his neck, your fingers getting tangled in his perfect hair now falling in locks to frame your face, the way your hearts pressed against one another now, yours pounding hard in your chest. Was this your first kiss? You were quite good at it for it to be your first, but then some people had a natural talent for these things as he had learned through his years as a doctor and asylum director.

As the kiss turned into a more heated situation you couldn’t help but moan softly against his lips, your fingers massaging his nape, tangling in his hair, pulling him closer gently. You wanted more, you had never felt like this and you wanted more now... his minty breath, his strong arms, his heart beat against yours, everything about this was so inviting. And then fear crept up and you gently broke the kiss, panting softly, cheeks so flushed they were almost crimson, eyes tearing up a bit.

“Pet...?” he whispered, frowning as you pulled away. “What-?”

“I’m dizzy,” you said before he could finish his question. “C-can we take a moment and breathe?”

“Of course, we can go at your pace...” he said pushing your hair off your face and caressing your cheek down to your chin. There was a hint of annoyance in his eyes, but then worry replaced it as he grabbed a clean rag and dabbed at your forehead and cheeks, then down at your neck, unbuttoning the shift’s collar. You closed your eyes again, relishing his touch, feeling better as you cooled down a bit.

Slowly, Stockill leaned down and kissed your cheek, making you smile, then proceeded to kiss down the path his fingers had taken, his soft lips leaving a trail of butterfly kisses on your hot skin. You tensed a little as he reached your jawline, but then his hand caressed your other cheek gently and you relaxed, gasping as he pressed his lips fully on your neck, right above your vein.

“Montmorency...?” you squeaked, unable to help yourself as you tilted your head. “I-It’s a bit too fast...” He hummed against your neck but didn’t pull away, making you moan his name softly, feeling him smile against your skin.

“Are you sure, pet, your body is reacting differently to your words...?” he purred, his hand travelling down from your cheek to your shoulder then arm, then waist, gently making you lean back. “Your heart beat has increased, your musculus sternocleidomastoideus has extended in such a way that I have more access to your neck, your skin is flushed which is something you cannot control as your heart rate increases your circulation. And I can assure you that if you opened those delightful eyes of yours I would see your pupils quite dilated...”

You sighed softly at his words and actions, his skin shivering at his words. It was true, you were relishing every moment of this, but the voice at the back of your head was screaming “danger!” so loudly that you couldn’t ignore it.

“Please... I just, I’m not used to all of this... please, let’s take a break...” you begged softly, biting your lower lip.

With sigh and nodded, the doctor finally relented, helping you sit up straight, gently running his fingers through your hair as you fixed his as best you could. He was annoyed, there was no doubt about it now, but he was relenting, he was listening to you! And that was enough for your heart to leap joyfully.

“As you wish, my pet,” he said, a bit icily, but still caressing your face gently, his hand still resting on your waist warmly. “Look at you, was that your first kiss?”

You frowned, thinking, then nodded, then shrugged. “I had-had never been kissed like this before... they had all be rough and more like bites than kisses, but this was different, it felt... nice, right...” you whispered, feeling your pulse quicken again, making you tense up. If you didn’t get out of his arms you’d regret, you knew you would...

Sensing your reaction, Stockill gently pulled away, fixing his waistcoat and standing up. “I’ll just go get some water, do not worry, pet,” he swiftly said, catching your worried look.

He walked up to his desk and filled two glass cups from a glass jug on a silver tray then walked back towards you, sitting back down on the cot and giving you one glass. He gently touched yours with his and drank slowly, closing his eyes. Your eyes travelled to his neck, slightly visible behind his starched collar, and you blushed again as you saw his muscles move as he drank. He really was so different from the wardens and chasers, even from the other doctors...

A knock on the door pulled you out of your reverie with a squeak and you hit behind him, making him chuckle.

“Yes?” he said, a bit annoyed again.

Madame Mournignton opened the door gently and poked her white head inside, looking around. “Ah, there you are Monty! Oh, you are busy?” she said in her particularly bird-like tone.

“No, mother, it is quite alright, what can I do for you?” he said, his tone casual.

You didn’t know why, but his dismissal of you, of what had happened before and you felt was still happening before the knock pricked at you worse than a leech’s bite. Your eyes were casted down, looking into your water cup and your flush left your cheeks, replaced by an aching in your chest as you heard the Madame and Stockill chat a bit before she said: ”Then I shall wait for you in the tea room, Monty. Do come soon, my child,” before stepping back out and closing the door behind her.

“Ah, y-you’re leaving?” you squeaked quietly as he stood up and went to grab his coat.

“Well, yes, it’s four o’clock, tea time,” he said, taking the cup from you and helping you up. “Anthony shall escort you back to your cell, then.”

The casual, almost icy tone was back in his voice as he guided you towards the door. But strangely, his hand was gentle with yours, even squeezing it a little as you walked. And once at the door, he leaned down and deposited on single soft kiss on your forehead before doing “shhh” gesture with his finger and opening the door, letting you out into the hands of the young warden. You thought you saw a small smile on his lips as you were walked away and he locked his office with his key, and that was enough to make you blush again as you followed Anthony down the corridor.

“What did he do now...?” The young man asked, worry etched in his smooth face.

“Hm...? Oh, nothing...” you said, a bit too giddy as you remembered the gesture Stockill did before you walked out of his office, a place you now regarded as cozy, even magical.

You wondered what would happen next time you were summoned. Maybe... maybe you’d be more prepared now, better suited for whatever was to come... Yes, you couldn’t wait to be summoned again. Anthony looked at you but said nothing as he let you into your cell, sighing softly once the door was locked and the blanket was down. This spelled danger, and he didn’t like it one bit.

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“And make sure he understands his place in this institution, Calvin,” Stockill said coldly as he nodded to Maudsley, opening the door to the back patio of the asylum, the place where most of the strongest punishments were dished out. “I don’t want him spreading his depravity any more than he already has...”

Clavin nodded, grabbing the beast of a man by the wrist and fastening a manacle to it, the man bewildered by these actions.

“But sir-!!” he whined, yet fell silent as Stockill walked slowly up to him, a spider walking on it’s web up to a freshly trapped prey. “S-sir?”

The doctor took the man’s face between his left index and thumb and squeezed it painfully, making him look him dead in the eyes. “You are to never touch them again, do you hear me? If you do, if I find out that you did, if I see you doing it, I will personally your hand off and feed it to the pigs, you insolent mass of pestilence. Never, I hope you understand that word, you ape...” he hissed at Maudsely, his eyes wild.

The man cowared, whining and nodding, unable to recognise the starchy, stuck up, snobbish director of the asylum in this wild creature that was threatening him.

The doctor was satisfied with that reaction and let him go, nodding to Calvin before turning and leaving towards the tea room, wiping his hands on his handckerchief, tossing the thing aside like trash.

He had better things to direct his attention to now, like the memory of your soulful eyes looking back at him, your lips on his. He was irritated at your rejection, but he had to be careful. If you overwater a plant it can die quickly, same as if you let the soil dry too much for too long. He had to be as delicate with you as he was with his forumlas and concotions, one wrong move and disaster could be spelled in a cloud of poisonous gas... No, he had to be quite careful, he had to calculate his every step, he had to. For you were going to be his whether you wanted it or not, but he preferred it if you wanted it, if you le thim ensnare you in his powerful silk, slowly drawing you in till it was too late and you couldn’t escape. Yes... that’s what he wanted, that’s what he needed, to be more like a spider... to be slow but sure. Nothing could stop him now save maybe you, and even then, he didn’t plan to listen to you once the plan was through. No... you were his, no one else’s, and he was going to make sure you knew that before the end of the year. Nobody said no to Montmorency Stockill, nobody. But by the time he was done with you, you were going to happily say yes, the word “no” no longer a part of your vocabulary...

He smiled as he opened the door to the tea room, walking up to his mother and kneeling down before her. “Hello, mother. Let’s have our tea...”