[CG / Kuroshitsuji] Amaranth
Series: Code Geass / Kuroshitsuji / Original.
Rating: R (for violent content). Angst (Angst will be until the end, weak and feeble hearts, do not read).
Chapter: 3 / 10.
Disclaimers: The boys CG does not belong to me, the basic environment either!
Note: It 's the sequel to "Red Monsieur."
♃
He was there in the shadows. For many years. A clear line between happiness and despair, who knew not to cross: it would come to light, because it would cast its shadow on the ground, and was afraid of this. The friendship with the Countess was an oak precious, glowing with a fire fatuous autumn withstand winters, exploded in the spring of life, celebrating the triumph of the sun: it was more valuable than a pink diamond, which remained cold to the touch.
He loved the Countess. She was his light. The lover, however, was only an old friend. Near the soul of her, never enough in his heart. Conte, too, waited in the hope of one day being able to marry.
hated the Count, who had married. He pretended friendship, to continue to attend their home. Silent one's feelings, cloaked in kindness. Inside, burned: wanted to destroy the 'man who trampled on the feelings and honor of the Countess, who had almost made it to die of selfishness. He wanted to see it destroyed. At first, she had endured, disguised hatred into tolerance if it made her happy, she and her family had intended for someone else, because he would not have to accept it? If you loved her, he could also make this sacrifice.
It was wrong. Error of youth. Growing up he had realized what she was important, essential to her happiness. And even if could not be her in some way, even so, the thread between them was not broken.
was after a walk outdoors and saw that he had lost a button of his jacket. The countess smiled. They were alone, he had come only for a short visit. The servants were everywhere, and their old friends: no suspicion could fall on their behavior. Yet there was something strange this time. She seemed upset, and the joy of badly managed potergli be helpful not completely hide his illness.
- I found a great tailor. It comes from France but has not yet popular here in England, indeed, it seems not taken to be known for nothing ... I still have to figure out why, I believe there is any reason below. But I will not do anything wrong if I ask to take care of you.
♃
The tailor was fortunate coincidence, the Villa, that morning. Monsieur Lamperouge showed up with ways the perfect gentleman. He was immediately sympathetic to the Count, even if it meant parting from his first love.
The lover had taken off his coat, sat down and observe the work of the tailor, looking lazy. The good was that it changed all the buttons, not having a similar provision: it was something that came from the house her, he would have held with great care, that jacket.
Monsieur began to work quietly. Yes, he had the air of a Frenchman, even if that hair blacks blacks were similar to those of Spain, although that incarnation with clear ... The count frowned. He was sure to have seen you somewhere, but the memory eluded him, insidious, like a fish under the water.
Monsieur, Monsieur ...
A roar thundered in the distance. The sky is gray. The count knew that the pavement would be drenched in rain, the coach would struggled to leave the job ... Maybe there was hope to stay for the whole day, without pressing on the events. Who knows what the Countess was doing when he imagined busy to give instructions to the maids. Maybe she was happy that he stays. But yes, definitely.
- The weather turns for the worse, I bet you're not used to these strange quirks. What you are part of France?
- In Paris, but I traveled a lot for Europe.
- maybe you were not good?
Churches, with a touch of English pride. The tailor began to sew up the top button, it seemed very little act for the job: it was clear the thoroughness of his gestures, but they were without passion, or life. In the eyes yes, that was apparent something more, or tone of voice. Whatever the child's education, must have been set in a house accustomed.
- I was a hothead. The
felt admit, with a hint of irony, and a good dose of fun. Count dared:
- A duel.
A cheeky smile.
- Spade?
- Of course.
- And have you won? For a woman or honor?
Lelouch recalled the memories of the one duel he had ever played in his life, enriched it with the smell of the soil of France, the French language, books in rapid sentences, witty hour hour intense, vibrant. He spoke freely, like a good servant of confidence led by a skilled master.
- In the end, though, I got very little, and the woman I wanted to let me down, and I had to leave the native soil ... It was unbearable to live that way.
- What would you do in hindsight?
The tailor put a new wire, failed twice to make it pass through the eye of the needle, his hands shook with emotion as. What a miserable fate that had made a heart so in love end like this! But it was not, perhaps, what the noble Earl suffered in love, every day? He never challenged to a duel the husband of his Countess, had waited, waited ... Maybe no avail.
Oh, how much time lost! What to do?
Monsieur Lamperouge down his robe, and the needle, looked out the window. The garden was framed by the patina of gray skies and crystal clear water.
♃
Days passed. Came the birthday of the Countess, with the rain early in the morning, noon, and continued stubborn until the evening. The young French tailor, was unavailable, but its part of the hall on the table, was found a package wrapped in red. The servants vied, spiandosi each other, trying to figure out who did enter the house: it had to have an accomplice, who was the lucky girl?
They took the gift in a hurry to the Countess. She, with her fingers pale and his eyes smiling, he dismissed the case. We found a small music box. He opened a sweet melody and invaded the room, took possession of his heart. Listen to it, repeated over and over again, looking out the window.
Her husband never returned the Count, neither the night nor the next morning. His body swollen with water was found in a field outside the city, struck by a pistol bullet in his head. Murder? Suicide?
No witnesses.
The friend stood next to the Countess, consoled her with a somber silence, and consistency. Friendship never appeared as strong, tender. Strolled along the avenues of the park of the late Count, ate with the family of refined porcelain, received his guests, who came to make their condolences and find the widow. The lover of the Countess had told investigators of friendships ground of the Earl, his frequent dangerous, so the light of the investigations had turned in that direction. The Countess, sorrowful, spent long minutes listening to the music box, finding a secret and inexplicable consolation. An unfathomable sadness, Chet, took possession of her, who could not move any more, pick up.
Monsieur le fashioned a dark coat, wonderful, she kept him constantly. When his friend the Count was not there, Monsieur le holding company: it was an excellent conversationalist, could hold people's hearts with kindness and lightness impossible to describe.
He wanted to do something for him, Taylor shook his head, replying that was enough. She did not understand, blushed and continued to speak in front of the window. He could not feel pain, when she was with him, as if you forget ... Even then, later, came back more violently than before submerging.
♃
The house was gloomy in the shadow of mourning. Dell'Innamorata the carriage arrived. The Countess had just returned from a walk, wrapped in dark mentella of his most trusted tailor. Crossed, he tried to talk to her, she evaded, enclosed in a denser gloom than usual.
He insisted, on more than ever of passion for his beautiful woman, who was consumed with grief. He followed her upstairs, following his gentle wake beyond the stairs, past the windows that let the columns of light. Greeted with a nod, a tailor, in feet, between the shadow. Monsieur
saw them slip into the first room adjacent to the landing of white marble, he walked to avoid the light projected on the ground, where he flew a crock of gold, almost invisible. He was impeccably dressed, with a blue jacket, white shirt and dark trousers. He put a hand on the handrail to get down, caressing the cold marble with a secret sensuality and inattentive. In the throat, let the music of the chimes ring out that the woman had given her.
Sweet as honey, that music.
Two steps down, two attendants at the door greeted a visitor, who arrived with the carriage of Count friend of the Countess.
Dressed in white.
Lelouch smiled, leaving the handrail and the impetus, in an elegant and rhythmic pace, like the falcon that nudges open the wings to fall to the free weight.
flew towards Suzaku with a smile to your lips.
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