[cheshire] equanimity | wolfgang

Returning to the city for the holidays had brought Genevieve a sense of peace that she was unable to experience holed away in the palatial Italian villa she had made her own over the summer. Capri lacked neither beauty of class, but rather, it was the silence that surrounded her home that had eventually driven her to loneliness. Genevieve had made an effort to liven up the place in her own way, hosting parties on a nightly basis where she and old friends revisited tales of glory over drinks onto to wake up late into the afternoon the next day feeling emptier and lonelier than before. Genevieve took such feelings in stride, her fingers tracing along the mark on the inside of her forearm. This she decided, was the life she had always wanted. The emotions that came along with this new position of power were simply part of the process. And so, Genevieve attempted to recuperate the way she knew best, by returning to London and distracting herself with whatever handsome face was available.

As expected, it did not take long for Genevieve to find someone to temporarily cure her of her loneliness, the man in question coming in the form of a handsome lad from outside of London. She had made Nicholas’ acquainted through a cousin, and after a wonderfully romantic night with him, he had more or less begged her to become his girlfriend. It was not in her nature to involve herself with anyone, Genevieve had prided herself on never needing a man to validate her existence but lately, the young witch found it difficult to continue living the way she always had. After all, Nicholas did not need to be reminded that she had already been promised to someone else and that whatever relationship he thought they had would simply come to a complete stop when she was to marry. Though he did not like the prospect of giving her up, his naivety was rather endearing, he relented and just like that, she was in a relationship.

But no matter how many times Nicholas made her laugh with silly tales of his experiences around the world or how well he understood her tastes or how affectionately he referred to her, Genevieve did not feel moved by his presence. She did not miss him when he was away. She was incapable of connecting.
 
It was easier to be in the company of a man that could not break your heart because he did not possess it. Nevertheless, with time, Genevieve realized that her dalliance with her date to the gala was nothing more than a way to distract herself from the inevitable. Nicholas was a good man, she decided, in the sense that he treated her like the princess she believed herself to be and not once demanded more than he was given. He had been wining and dining her long enough for her to have invited him to spend the night but when he walked her to the estate’s door and leaned in to kiss her goodnight, her mind was already up the stairs and down the hallway, back in the safety of her room and sitting around wondering if he, not Nicholas, would allow himself into her room through her veranda to entertain her for the rest of the night. And just like that, Genevieve found herself apologizing and pushing Nicholas away, holding her breath as the anticipation fluttered against her stomach in what could only be described as a crush she simply could not shake. Wolfgang possessed her, and it was such a realization that frightened her even more.

Nicholas made a promise to owl the following day, words that fell on deaf ears as she noticed that her bedroom door had been left slightly ajar, the soft glow of the candle on her desk flickering as if threatening to extinguish itself at any moment. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door open, looking around the room for a moment as she sought the telltale signs of his presence. “I assume your little birds have told you that Nicholas and I were out again?” she said quietly, closing the door behind her as she began taking out the ornament in her hair. “He took me to that place with the marvelous fondue, do you remember we used to go there as teenagers?” she continued, waiting for him to emerge from the shadows as she moved to stand in front of the mirror, slowly removing a pair of diamond earrings before she finally spotted him, a smile appearing on her features when she saw his bright blue eyes staring into her own. “I tried what you told me, to imagine it was you before poor Nicholas got discouraged because I do like him you know, he is rather handsome, but alas…” she sighed a little, more for effect. “My mind and heart are somewhere else…” she muttered softly, averting her gaze as she put her jewelry on the counter. Pointing at the zipper on the back of her tight, black dress she looked at him with a helpless expression on her face. “Do you mind?” she asked, “So what brings you ‘round? The staff will start to suspect that I summon you on a nightly basis, that won’t do my reputation any good,” she teased lightly.


@Wolfgang Reinhardt

His long fingers rose to trace the outline of his own lips as Wolfgang stared off at nothing in particular. He was digesting the news that Genevieve was out flaunting her make-believe relationship. He scoffed, the thought of her being with anyone other than him was ridiculous. He had never lied to Evie about his feelings but Wolfie knew he had not been honest either. He had feared that somehow wanting her more than she allowed would push her away. He was a man that had loved her as a boy before he understood the real concept of love. She had shook his world apart even then, but now, now she shook him down to what felt like his soul. She consumed his thoughts and often found herself in his dreams. So he wondered, just wondered, how she could so carelessly show the world a relationship that diminished their own. Nicholas, the boyfriend was the placeholder. Wolfgang knew this. He had felt it in her gaze and she solidified it when they touched. But, still to see her out being wined and dined by some less than rubbed him wrong. It reminded the Irishman that he had something to lose. Something he wanted more than to have a hidden rendezvous with, or more so, a someone. There had always been clearly defined rules to the game they both played so well, bouncing off each other in an effortless sort of fashion.

As well placed as those rules had been Wolfgang was tired of them. He was done hiding his truth behind his insecurities and fears. It was obvious to anyone who knew him that the love, the affection, the consideration he held for Genevieve was unmatched next to the forgotten faces of yesterday. Of course, he had tried to silence the voice that told him other girls were simply a waste of his time but stubborn was as stubborn did, and Wolfgang bedded women as if they were each about to vanish from the world. He filled them with dreams of a future that he held solely for the heiress that had awakened him to the sheer possibility of love. And if he had been reckless for fear of being too needy he would only allow himself to assume that she had been as reckless out of the same fears. He had to hold hope that somehow she loved him when he knew it was an impossible concept. To love the monster he was beneath his pleasantries was a hard step to overcome. He was harsh and cold and his consideration flew out the window during those dark times. He was selfish and his own joys outweighed those of the world as he gave into his hedonism. Maybe Nicholas had been her subtle way of saying that she had seen him as he truly was and she just couldn't give false hope.

Slowly the man rose and as he took a deep breath the ground beneath him vanished before he found himself in a familiar place. Blue eyes took in the small places where their memories rested and Wolfie paused to allow the nostalgia to wash over him. The echoes of their laughter nearly as loud as the ghosts of his desire for her. Long fingers rose to push bright locks from his face as he felt the weight of his heart sink lower. The damage done to his soul drowned next to the depth of his desire for the woman who was capable of destroying him. The soft sound of his shoes touched the air as he stepped into her room just as the maid exited, like clockwork. He knew Effie was off preparing for Evie to come home and so he took a moment to walk her room. He glanced at the pictures on her vanity, adjusted the pillows on her bed and lit the candle that rested in front of her mirror. His reflection was an image he couldn't look away from. Usually, intense eyes held a certain sadness he knew was from the thought that the only love of his life had shifted her affections elsewhere. Who would he be in a world where Genevieve Grosvenor was not the main attraction? What would he become without the sheer hope of her love to heal his most broken pieces? A shadowed shell of a man someone had once saved and welcomed into the solace that came with joy and serenity.

A thin frame dropped against the wall, the darkness of the room enveloping him effortlessly in his black ensemble. He could wait for her but the Irishman wondered if she would make that wait last forever. If he would, in his old age, finally be brave enough to whisper passionate I love you's or would he watch distantly as another man loved her improperly. His gaze shifted as he heard the gentle hum of conversation and his heart flooded his ears because it sprung to life in his chest. It beat hard against its cage much like the wings of a bird trapped far too long. It fluttered for her as it always had along with the butterflies in his stomach that replicated his nerves for his own knowledge. Damn, she possessed him wholly but the fear of such possession had died long ago with his youth. He could no longer fear what he knew he needed. What he longed for was only a future where she was the mother of his children. Where she solely held the keys to his destruction because in that future she loved him as only she could.

He watched her enter and in the glow of candlelight he had seen extraordinary beauty. Her dress hugged her form in what he knew was his invitation to admire. His gaze fell upon her face and in her eyes, he saw her searching, there bits of him warmed because she was looking for him. “Well, we both know this bird doesn’t talk.” He spoke of Taylor as the soft click of their privacy sounded with the closing of her bedroom door. His eyes traced the lines of her face and he wondered if her freckles were hidden, a privilege he had deemed himself lucky to have seen. He wondered if she showed her, beneath the glamour and quick-witted comments, to her, pretend boyfriend. He pushed off the wall and walked into the soft glow of light into the room, keeping just at the edge as he stared at her with a smirk on his face. “I’m sure you only thought of someone else the whole time.” He hoped, oh he hoped, she had thought of him. He could see her clearly now as the candlelight illuminated her heart-shaped face. Merlin, she was beautiful. It was more than her body, more than her face that moved him. The depths of her soul, of who she was was extraordinary and the package that held it all together had only been a mirror of what lay inside.

“You should stop wasting your time with that...well you could do far better.” He chuckled softly, “I am not surprised he was mediocre at every turn when I first met him, how could he ever measure up?” There was that ego he displayed so well. A good mask to what he truly felt underneath, supremely vulnerable.”And where is that?” He asked softly as her gaze shifted and white teeth ran along his bottom lip. Swallowing softly he stepped forward as his eyes traced the line of the zipper. He stopped just behind her, close enough to feel the heat that radiated from her frame, long nimble fingers gently tracing the line of her shoulder as he stared at her in the mirror. “You. Seeing you out there with him as if you are truly happy brought me here.” He said honestly as he trailed the outline of the strap of her dress “I stay well hidden. You’ve been the only person who can feel me in a room. But, I suppose were they to think at all I would be forced to remind them that too bold a thought can be dangerous.” He threatened lightly but the truth weighed his words down, even if she didn’t know it.

His gaze dropped to watch as he lowered the zipper slowly, painfully slow in his own mind. “I was jealous tonight and I had to come and make sure he didn’t get whatever prize he hoped for.” He stepped closer, leaning to whisper in her ear as the zipper finally met its end, “Anything else?” His gaze rose to the mirror to look at her, “You need help with?” Her perfume invaded his senses and for a moment he had forgotten that he was there with a purpose. All he could feel, all he could understand was that being so close to her meant nothing else mattered.”Break up with him.” It had been a thought spoken aloud and it wasn’t until the sound of his own voice touched his ears that he realized. It had been said there was no taking it back but it didn’t mean he didn’t wish it had all been done a little differently.

Genevieve prided herself in her confidence; an ability to face daunting situations courageously even when impending failure lay in the horizon. The Lovecraft women were beautiful but devastatingly stubborn, and though many believed it to be a curse, the young witch knew that she was a force to be reckoned with. If anything, it was her attitude that served as a defense mechanism against the devastating blows life had given her, most people so preoccupied with her wealth and notoriety to truly understand how damaged she truly was.

She had grown accustomed to being misunderstood, her dramatic tendencies being misconstrued as a way to gain the attention of others. Genevieve made no moves without motive, every decision a calculated step taken towards an ultimate objective, one she still struggled to explicate clearly. Therefore, how could she justify her feelings if they were not fabricated in an effort to gain something from the man reflected in the mirror? It was an unusual thing, the way her affection made her want to give him the world while asking for nothing in return.

Staring at him through the mirror felt safe. Genevieve knew that the moment he gazed upon her eyes directly, all of her resolve would collapse and along with it her self-control; only Wolfgang had ever had the power to stare at her in a manner that so effortlessly brought her to her knees. The short silences between their words thickened the air with a sort of anticipation that only made her feel more nervous than she ever had before, making it difficult for her to breathe as her heart pounded in her chest.

So loudly, in fact, that for a moment she feared that it might simply jump straight out of her chest. “Unfortunately, dinner was all that was had tonight, he has asked that we go away for the weekend, there is a new exhibition in Paris and he thought it rather romantic to take me there. I haven’t the heart to tell him that Paris simply isn’t for me, normally I’d be honest in this sort of situation but I suppose I do not feel the need to hurt him,” she confessed. “I’m sure it’s his idea of seduction,” she continued. There were no feelings for Nicholas, no emotional attachment, no sexual desire, absolutely no chemistry. However, he existed and he adored her, and having him on her arm made it easier. Genevieve figured that with Wolfgang things would be much too tumultuous, and surely the tightness in her chest and the shortness in her breath she experienced in his presence was obviously not good for her health.

His chuckle, the way he spoke, the manner in which he stared at her with the confidence he wore like a well-tailored suit; all things that made her body react, that made her heart crave him and the desire to give in even more desirable. “He isn’t so bad, is a good story teller, makes me laugh…” she explained, her eyes enchanted by his movements as he approached her. “With…” she started, before regaining her senses only moments from losing them. “With someone else,” she tried, though in her heart, she knew that in the way she looked at him that someone else had always been and would always be, him.

He felt particularly powerful that night, an aura of smugness that radiated from his being and made it difficult for her to concentrate on maintaining the façade she had learned to perfect in his presence. I’m the only person that can feel you, maybe because we are connected, she thought, ever thankful that such mawkish words had not escaped her lips, surely he would have made fun of her desperation. “Effie knows, surely, but she doesn’t dare question my motives or yours,” she continued softly, feeling the beginnings of a blush that spread across the bridge of her nose and the apples of her cheeks. The way in which he made her feel so helpless infuriated her.

The feeling of his fingers against her skin formed goosebumps along her spine, a reaction she could only beginnings hope that he had not noticed. But her body was beyond such petty concerns, performing as it were, operating at the bidding of his lips and caresses. Genevieve knew that he did not return because he needed her but rather because her body and heart demanded him, and it was one of the many reasons that his presence made her feel even more defenseless. Her throat felt dry, and once again she struggled to stay hidden behind the woman she had always pretended to be in his presence. There was nothing more frightening than a pair of eyes that could see right through you. These sorts of actions marked the beginning of their nights together, ones she had begun to cherish and long for early in the day. He plagued her mind on a daily basis, her conversations with Nicholas overshadowed by reminders of what had occurred the night prior.

More than just physical pleasure, Genevieve had begun to look towards Wolfgang for guidance, the way his fingers ran through her hair or the way he traced shapes into her skin making her feel much more at home than she was willing to admit. “You seem to think that he sees me as an object and not a person, he respects my choice, even if he isn’t in love with the idea he has never pushed me, not once,” she emphasized, though her defensiveness had nothing with her desire to protect Nicholas or her honor. It made sense, for him to assume that she would eventually give in to Nicholas considering how much she ‘sought’ his advice on the matter, a belief that would have been easily cleared up should she told him the truth. I haven’t any interest in anything, anyone else but you, she confessed to herself, the words impossible to form with her lips.

Anything else? He asked as if he did not already know that soon enough, all of her troubles would be forgotten on the Persian carpet and only the walls would bear witness to the way they came together on an almost nightly basis. Soon enough, she would lean in to kiss him with fervor, her lips seeking some sort of forbidden knowledge from his own, her body melting against him in both desire and affection that she did not have the words to explain. Lips, followed by long fingers that led a fiery path down the lines of her body and made her forget completely about the handsome, polite young man with whom she had spent the entire afternoon.

When the sun began to peak through the curtains, it was not guilt that Genevieve experienced but rather absolute bliss, a feeling of belonging settling peacefully in the spent energy between them. Wolfgang had never disposed of her as if she were some secret only to be touched at night, he held her tightly, with pride, until Genevieve had to pull herself away from his warm embrace and send him back where he came from, spending her breakfast mulling over her feelings and the pleasures she could only experience in his company. “I’ve told Effie that I would like to remain undisturbed until lunch and to leave my breakfast at the door—” she said vaguely but it was her way of asking him to stay over. Spend the night with me, please,the words were written in her eyes when she finally turned to look up at him, she knew that he could see through her, that no other explanation was necessary.

The words had proceeded from his mouth so quietly that she almost managed to convince herself to believe that she had not actually heard them. Nevertheless, almost immediately, there was a shift in the air between them, a silence that she was certain was deafening to them both. It was then that she realized that he had indeed uttered those very words: Break up with him. The sound of her heart thumping against her chest made it difficult for her to hear herself think and though she felt that the confusion on her face was obvious, she attempted to play it off as a simple joke. Therefore, she laughed quietly and nervously. “So that I can start pining after you, Wolfie?” she asked softly, her words much heavier than she intended as her eyes locked with his through the mirror.

“We tried that, remember? Me putting my feelings before any common sense and going after what my heart desired, and you see how that relationship was an utter failure,” she stated, hurt evident in the tone of her voice. “Anyway, at least this way I have you, anytime I want for whatever I’d like, I’d say this is much more agreeable,” she said decisively, averting her gaze as she moved away from him, desperate to put distance between them as she placed a few drops of a beauty potion on her hand before massaging it into her face, her freckles making a debut from under layers of makeup and a concealment charm. “Isn’t this the ideal situation for any man? It’s a win-win situation. You get to have my body and I get to have your heart, or at least some pretend affection,” she smiled a little, afraid that she had already said too much. She should have stayed silent.          

He had to be honest this love was different; different in the way that it felt, the way it manifested and how suddenly the realization had hit him. She was different in every way that made her perfect. Of course, he had loved her his whole life, it seemed, captivated by a closed-door kiss. In his youth he often bragged about spending forever with her. He had gone out of his way to tell anyone who would listen that she was his. Yet, things had changed. He had grown up and matured. With that came the knowledge of what it felt like to lose her. He had become selfish with his love, protective of how fragile it seemed at times. There were rare moments when he thought she would never love him again, that they would be some faded face in each other’s past. The thought – even if only a fleeting idea – that she might love someone other than him was devastating in a way he couldn’t articulate.

 Such emotions scared him. They made him tremble down to his soul and at first, he wondered if it was the loss he would have to survive, but knew, it was the murderous rage that would take him. The vengeance he would have to seek out to heal his wounded pride and mend his broken heart. He dared not think of those words ever coming from her lips because Wolfgang knew those moments would dim the light she ignited in him. His eyes closed for a moment as the thought of such ran through his mind. He had survived the loss of her once before, but the weight of that pain had nearly buried him. He told himself it was because she had been promised to him, something beautiful and fragile that was all his. But she wasn’t, not anymore.

The news of her date had the Irishman searching through his emotions as they flickered. It was rare to see the man as anything but composed, but in those moments he had been. He had been filled with a rage that nearly consumed him. Still, he found his way to her home and into her room because that rage was of his own mistakes. Of being afraid to be honest with her about how he felt, even as kids.  “Unfortunately?” He asked as he frowned, “So instead you would rather lie about enjoying the weekend? That’s very considerate of his feeling.” He didn’t want her to go, but how could he ask her to stay? “I doubt a weekend away will set fire where there never was any.” His eyes rolled slightly, “Trips away shouldn’t be a means of seduction but an addition to the seduction itself.” He noted as a man versed in such things might.

He was versed in many things but he took pride in how well he could read her. He had been seducing her his whole life, but he didn’t realize these types of things. He only knew that when it came to Genevieve everything just came naturally to him. “All examples given when the man in question is as boring as the relationship. Can’t very well rationalize with your friends that you married some guy because he made you laugh once.” He fought his smile at his words before his gaze shifted to her reflection. He exhaled softly as his eyes traced the lines of her delicate features before coming to rest on the storm of her eyes. He lost himself in them as he often did, hearing the soft thud of his heart behind his ear as he swallowed. “And such a lucky bloke to be on the mind of one Genevieve Grosvenor. Not all men are worthy.” And he did feel lucky because he knew her better then most men if not all.

“She should know by now that rules mean very little to me.” He spoke of the maid, “Especially where you are concerned.” He smiled a bit, “I know she is rooting for the winning team; she’s always been smart that way.” If there was a battle to be fought to win Evie’s heart, Wolfgang would wage war on any man who deemed himself worthy. He looked down as he took a deep breath only for his gaze to rise quickly moments after, “No, I seem to think that he believes that he has some semblance of a chance to ever be loved by you. This has nothing to do with sex, we both know were you interested his waiting game would have annoyed you.” His head tilted as he stared at her, “Its about that fact that you aren’t happy, nor will you ever be with him.” Maybe he had overstepped, maybe he hadn’t. All he knew was that he was fighting. Fighting for everything he had wanted for so long. Fighting for her.

He wanted to tell her that he saw her. Wanted to show her that he knew her better than any other man in the past. To mend the pieces of her that had been shattered by loss. To love her in a way that reminded her that she was someone irreplaceable. But he couldn’t, he knew he couldn’t. In the past such declarations had never been met well, once had even left him alone. He paused as an invitation was extended, one in which she had been careful to never give in the past. He wondered if she had thought about this moment and what he might say. “That means we have no need to rush since our night won’t end prematurely.” He ended in a whisper as he thought about what this meant. If she was in some way telling him that she felt the same. That the affection and the love mirrored his own, even if, she was still afraid to say it aloud.

Break up with him.

He blinked as the sound of his own voice echoed in his head. He was stuck, frozen in fear that he would leave her room broken.

Break up with him.

The silence, it was deafening. He frowned as it grew longer and the uncomfortable air settled around them. He had overstepped and now she was poised to run. Wolfgang had learned she was good at that. In a way he was too, or at the very least at keeping his walls up. His brows knitted deeper as that terrible silence was replaced by the gentle sound of her laughter. This was worse, it panged in his heart – his hurt – mirrored by the uncertain gaze he now wore. “No, though I doubt you rarely pine for anyone.” He pulled his gaze away because he knew she could see his emotion behind the ocean of his eyes. “When did you ever go after what you desired?” He said as he rocked on his feet, to calm himself “I remember you leaving me because what I wanted was too heavy for the casual relationship you wanted.” He could still remember those moments leading up to the second great devastating loss in his life.

“As I recall,” he eyed her as she moved, “something about your aunt being meddlesome. Oh, and you so easily believing lies.” He looked away once more as he gathered his words, finally ready to be completely honest. “What if that is no longer agreeable for me?” He asked as he rose his gaze in her direction, “What if I want more –“His head shook “What if I want all of you?” His gaze shifted as he felt his own vulnerability surface before he approached her, “Because I do, Genevieve. I want more. More then these stolen moments with the tainted memories of your days out with another man. More then hours together hidden in the night, when I want days in the sunlight with you.” The emotions flickered across his face as he looked at her, “I’ve always wanted more.”

He couldn’t be afraid because in his fear he would lose her. “You will never love him so be kind and let him go. Don’t make him believe there is the possibility….losing you is enough.” As he came to stop in front of her, her freckles came into view and completed her perfection. “I love being with you in the stillness of the night when you’ve forgotten to send me on my way. I love the way you say my name and that you laugh at my terrible attempts at jokes. I love..” His hand rose to let his fingertips gently brush her cheek, “your freckles which to me make you only more extraordinarily beautiful. I love that I have seen the real you beneath the glamour and the potions.” He pulled his hand away to run down the front of his shirt, “I look into your eyes and see the possibility of the man I can be. I can picture forever with you….”

He had never been so open with his emotions before, but Wolfgang knew that in this moment he had to. He had to show her that beneath the snark was a man that truly loved her. “Break up with him because I no longer wish to share any parts of you. I can not pretend that it doesn’t make me jealous. I can not lie and say I can move past it. I love you…you, Genevieve. So, I want all of you.” He swallowed softly “I can not change it…I can not ignore it. Break up with him.”

“I shall enjoy my weekend with Nicholas very much, mind you,” she retorted rather sharply, though her earlier words had made it very evident that her feelings about the entire venture were lukewarm at best. “If his kisses are any indication, I think he will be rather passionate in bed but he certainly is the sort to wine and dine a girl proper before asking for more…. intimate encounters, you’ll have to teach me tonight, the lady-like way to seduce him so that he might be even more taken with me, in fact, if he thinks it’s my first time well--he’d absolutely adore that,” she explained, hoping that her words would dissuade him from the tone of seriousness this conversation had suddenly taken. Genevieve knew little of the way Nicholas kissed as their interactions were rather chaste, a master at the art of romance, the heiress had a talent for pretending that the thought of such public displays of affection was too ostentation to share with the public.

Naturally, the impressionable young man fell for it, or at least pretended to, later citing that it was the very reason that he found her undeniable attractive. The confession was taken in stride, there was a sickening sort of satisfaction that came from tricking others into believing what they saw was the truth but was quickly followed by a feeling of disappointment that he was unable to see right through her.  But it was far from what the young witch truly wanted, a romantic at heart, she wished for nothing more than to be treated like a princess in public and ravaged in private, two things that the man behind her had gotten particularly good at accomplishing. Though Genevieve was no fool to believe that he was not privy to that knowledge, a part of her wanted to believe that maybe, just maybe, she could deceive him in the way she had done with everyone else.

“Shall I be honest?” she inquired after several moments of silence, unsure if she truly wished to speak the words that plagued her mind or she would continue to be content with relegating her emotions to the very back of her mind, far from the man who stood reflected in the mirror. The lightness Knowing that hesitation on her part would mean the end of this magical moment between them, she continued onward. “It had little to do with my aunt, if anything,” she explained, taking a cotton swab as she wiped away the remnants of the makeup on her face, memories of the time she had spent outside of her home and in the arms of another man becoming ones she wanted to part with immediately. The moments she spent with Nicholas, hands interlocked as laughter proceeded from her lips as it was the most natural thing in the world now made her feel dirty. Though she had committed no crime, in Wolfgang’s presence, every act with Nicholas felt like a betrayal to the man she had loved for as long as she could remember. And yet, Genevieve could not find the strength within herself to let go of the farce of a life she had surrounded herself with for both of their sakes.

“I do not expect you to understand how powerless a woman feels in your presence, how the very thought that another woman could grab your attention destroyed the very self-confidence I have built my life upon,” she explained, the words heavy on her tongue as they proceeded from her lips slowly. “You can have any woman you want, why is it that you must have me?” she wondered out loud, though the inquiry functioned more like a rhetorical question. “I may have masochistic tendencies,” she added, smiling a little to ease the tension between them, “But I have no desire for a broken heart, is it not better to pretend as we’ve done so for so many years?” she continued. Pretending became synonymous with safety, Genevieve well aware of the inner workings of the cruel world that had time and time again subjected her to unforgiving scrutiny. The heiress had learned to cope with the disgust of those in the papers and strangers, dealing with Wolfgang’s disgust at the sight of her true feelings, however, that was something that no one could possibly have the strength to bear.

No matter how much she wished to, Genevieve found it difficult to escape his gaze, the iciness of his handsome blue-grey eyes burrowing deeply into the very depths of her soul. Moments prior, the mirror had served as the ideal buffer, something that prevented his gaze from consuming her the way it always did when the two were face to face. But now, as his words became more pointed, the heiress realized that no matter what lay in between them, there was little to protect her from his intensity, one that she had come to both cherish and abhor over the course of the years they had spent together.

“It’s more than stolen moments to me,” she continued onward to explain her reasoning, disposing of the cotton swab and making quick work of the complicated hairstyle she had entrusted Effie with prior to the beginning of her date. “I suppose to you I’m simply a guaranteed shag that you can move on from by next morning but well--as I’ve already said, I exchange the pleasure of my body for the sake of pretending to have your heart,” she said, her own tone a little frigid as she considered just how careless she was being with her words. However, it was about time that he knew just the sort of emotions that he stirred within her and how that very sentiment had rendered her weak in his eyes. “I am well aware that Nicholas and I will never share the sort of chemistry that the two of us do, Wolfie, but would you not agree that it is safer that way? Our fire burns so hotly that it threatens to consume us at every turn, if you know the fire is hot, what’s the point of sticking your hands in the flame to prove otherwise?” she attempted to explain. But she enjoyed the fire that he ignited with the tips of his fingers, had fallen prey to the pain and utter pleasure that he brought along with him at every encounter.

It was very unlike Genevieve to speak of matters of the heart in this way; she realized that she was beginning to sound like one of her aunts and that thought did not sit well with her. Rather than speak plainly, Genevieve sought to hide behind platitudes that somehow sounded like the wise words she would do well to follow as she swiftly reached adulthood. Nevertheless, none of those phrases encompassed the feelings of her heart and the truth, that in Wolfgang’s presence, her heartfelt full and utterly happy. Why could she so easily believe that happiness was meant to overlook her? She assumed that it had something to do with her fatalistic attitude on life; so much misfortune had befallen her in her youth that it only seemed appropriate to believe that it would continue to haunt her adult life as well. At least if Nicholas betrayed her, Genevieve would not feel a thing and life would go onwards as it always had. But this, her feelings for her fiancee felt like a trap and the thought that he would one day take joy in breaking her down only dissuaded her from developing her feelings for him any further.

As he stood before her, her blue-grey eyes contemplated him with awe, momentarily enchanted by their exchange as she considered the weight of words that threatened to take her breath away. He had always had a way with his mouth, she decided as her eyes traced his face in the warm light of the dimly-lit room, lips that had brought her pleasure in so many ways had never failed to bring her both physical and emotional pleasure. But just as quickly, Genevieve could sense her reason slipping away from her, felt her heart coming alive at the sound of his voice, butterflies fluttering in her stomach as they followed the rhythm of his words, and it terrified her. Pressing a hand against his chest as if to place a little distance between them, she forced herself to avert her gaze, taking a step away from him.

“Stop,” she whispered weakly, the words barely audible to her own ears as she considered how to gather the courage to lie to him again, but her brain would simply not cooperate. “This isn’t how this goes, Wolfie,” she continued softly, finally looking up at him again as her hand remained steadfast against his frame. The physical distance would make things easier, surely. “We are to be married, we are to be partners, but it is not meant for us to fall in love. No matter how much--how strong my feelings are for you I cannot break the vow I’ve made to myself. I mustn’t give in to my feelings, no matter what,” she explained, her hand traveling down his chest slowly before it fell loosely against her side. “I love you, Wolfie, I’m so--utterly in love with you that the very thought of I may do to keep you at my side frightens me,” she confessed finally, her voice shaky as she considered how this would very well be the end of their relationship as they knew it. “But this isn’t right,” she said, taking another step away from him as she walked towards the closet, the more space between them the safer it felt.

“Imagine us walking out in public together what a laughingstock we’d become,” she laughed to herself, more dramatically than necessary as she felt the beginning of tears form in her throat. Once again she was denying herself of the person she wanted the most and it hurt, the pain wretched at her heart unlike any she had ever experienced before. Maybe this once she could, “No,” she continued, “This is a business agreement, sure the sex is an option but it is a mutually satisfying agreement but a relationship, that simply crosses the line,” she added on as she attempted to justify herself. Looking through the hangers for no reason, in particular, she suddenly stopped, turning towards him as tears gathered at the corner of her eyes. “I think it’s…” she started, taking a deep breath, “best if you leave now, this has become too much I’m not really in the mood for all of this--I just, I’m sorry that I brought Nicholas up, I’ll be away this weekend so I suppose we could start seeing each other again next week. Have you been seeing other women? Maybe it’s best that you do…” she said weakly, the thought of him seeing another woman only further tightening her throat. “I am not who you think I am,” she added cryptically.

But she was exactly who he had known her to be, unequivocally and forever his Genevieve.

He had overstepped as he often did, but such came with his status. Such came with the way in which he carried himself and how deeply he believed in his own worth over that of others. Sure, she may speak of this Nicholas as if by some chance the other man had the means to make Wolfgang obsolete in her eyes but truthfully it was impossible. Impossible to erase the delicate moments that made them who they were. Impossible to see her the way Wolfgang had mastered since the tender age of 12 because with the world she painted the picture of her personality. With the world she lied to keep the façade of her innocence well intact but with him she couldn’t. So, he overstepped, and he pushed her boundaries because at the end of the day the foundation of their love demanded it. Demanded that they both stop pretending and fall. Fall knowing that at the bottom someone was there waiting undoubtedly to catch them.

“I would hope that after everything being honest with me always come first.” He thought back to the moments of his own weakness, those fleeting moments of his vulnerability that she bare witness to, and how despite it all she had remained his even if in the smallest bits. The mention of the older woman caused his expression to turn sour as he recounted the times, she openly showed her distaste for him and his mother. Were he someone else he might have believed her words that her aunt had played a small role in their demise. But Wolfgang knew because much like him fitting into her family – their approval – had made many choices for the both of them. Though the silence had been heavy and left room for his worry and concern to fester her words cut him. Deeper than he had ever expected them too.

He wondered how she couldn’t see, how she missed those moments when his love for her was evident. Powerless? He wanted to scoff because he knew in a world where men thought themselves in charge women ruled. He knew that women could often say such things knowing that without them the very foundation of the future would crumble. “But there never was another woman. Only the women your friends and family made up for you to believe in.” His tone was soft, softer than it had ever been. It was a delicate thing putting all their feelings in the open. So much could go wrong, and he hoped that that wasn’t the case for them. A rhetorical question he knew he would have to answer even if that day came later, Wolfgang knew she would demand to know why her. “Because…” He began but didn’t say more as he eyed her letting her finish as his thoughts gathered.

A long-fingered hand traced the path of the buttons that kept his shirt closed as he considered leaving the words hanging there without telling her more. He couldn’t not knowing that this night may very well determine what future they may or may not have. “Because…I love you.” Words he had whispered to her as she slept replayed themselves in his head. “That’s why. I love you and I can’t stop myself from doing so. So, you may be confused, and you may wonder why but I know. I know that since you kissed me the first time, since moments in an elevator and a terrible terrible wedding motel room that no one else mattered.” He took a breath, “Why would I ever break the heart of the woman – the only woman – capable of putting mines back together.” He spoke of how hollow he had been with the loss of his sister. Of how parts of his soul had simply stopped and moments with her had ignited what he thought had died. “So, I can’t keep pretending because in the end it will be the thing that kills me.”

“But aren’t they stolen? Resting on the memory of your days with another man. Mixed in with the ghost of his touch…aren’t they stolen because to world you’re his.” His head shook as the weight of her words sat heavy on both his mind and heart. Had he mistaken his own displays of affection for something understandable to now stand before her and know she felt unloved? “You needn’t pretend. I may not have much of a heart left but surely you know it only belongs to you. You that can send me. into a world of jealousy with a look. The you who knows my pains and those sorrows. The you who never allows me to simply get away with things because of who I am. You never had to pretend to have my heart because just like every other part of me to you I have given it freely.” He spoke like a man beyond his years. He spoke as if he had lived a life of heartache and regret and his only saving grace was that he could love and be loved by this singular soul.

Maybe the uncertainty of his own past was now nestled in her insecurities reminding him that one point he had felt the same. Why risk the fire if the burn was too much to handle, he wondered why? Why he fought so hard when she told him not to at every turn. Why she above all women made him long to be a better man, long to have the white picket fenced life he knew himself unworthy of. “So, you would rather be content with a man you don’t love? I never thought the day would come that I could coin you a coward, Genevieve. Back then when we broke up, I could understand that your family meant more. But, now for this man you would subject yourself to life filled with what ifs and maybes because being with me is real? Because you don’t have to wonder if I want you?” He frowned but he knew why she wanted this other life, this lackluster life with a dull man.

It was safe and, in that safety, there was no pain and no disappointment. He could see how unsure she was, but he couldn’t help but think if she had never met this man who claimed her during the day would he still be pushed away. Would her fears still surface to break them more than they already had been? Had her hand not risen to stop him he might have pulled her close and kissed her. He might have let his lips press to hers and express his many contemplations and wants. His hands would have whispered the words his lips had always failed to as they graced along the softness of her skin. Had her hand not risen he might have simply given into his feelings and left the words for another time. A time when she longed to hear his voice utter the words that scared him.

“Why?” Even as he stood still, he wondered why she was fighting him so desperately. “Why can’t we love each other despite being engaged? Because we didn’t meet in some bar? Because our parents paired us even before we understood what it all meant?” He wasn’t sure what it was he was expecting her to say or if she had an explanation good enough at this point to placate his worried mind. Those words, the ones in which he whispered into the still of the night to her caused his breath to be held. His brow furrowed as for the first time he let doubtful not because he didn’t believe she loved him only that he was unworthy of such a gift. Utterly in love as he had been for so long in his young life. Utterly in love to the point to bad decisions and terrible actions. Utterly in love was a concept she had taught him and for the first time he could see it behind the storminess of her eyes, the waves of her emotions washing over him. He exhaled a slow shuddered breath as her words echoed in his mind, the ones that that she couldn’t. The ones that told him love wasn’t enough.

If love had ever been enough there would be no Nicholas. There in the space she made between them was a coldness that chilled his bones. She loved him but it wasn’t right, for who? For her or the both of them? What made it wrong outside of his clearly being broken? “How is denying yourself this love…our love any better? How can you say that being a little scared isn’t worthy happiness?” Maybe because it was their love that planted the small seeds of doubt as he played hard to get and said the meanest things at times. Was it how carelessly that he had thrown what small adventures he had in her face to get a spark of jealousy? “Or…is it that loving me isn’t worth having more courage than fear?”

He stared at her, the clothes she stood in front of and the frame of the door around her without word as his question hung there in the air. “Why would we ever care about the thoughts of people who wished they were us? Who are they to put worth on the intimacies of our lives?” He had stepped forward without knowing needing for a moment to be close to her. To remind himself that though her words ripped into his soul and tore at his heart he knew the truth now. She loved him and with that there was a small bit of hope that said she could be his. “If this were a true business arrangement all things would be up for negotiation.” He inhaled deeply and that pang in his heart caused him to swallow. “I want more than the sex. More then the sneaking into your room at night and rushing out in the morning. Am I that terrible a person you can’t bare the thought of giving me more?”

She turned and once more his breath held as the tears pooling at the edges of her eyes told him that maybe she deserved better. That maybe she wasn’t saying it to hurt him but to save them both before he could ruin something precious and pure. “Do you really want me to leave?” And he would if she were serious, another step forward. “You’re not going away with him; you’ll break up with him before dawn. Genevieve, can’t you see that no matter what we do or where we go, we always find each other. Why are you running?” Into the arms of a man pretending to be capable of loving her no less. “There is no one else, there never has been.” And he had dated but they all paled in comparison. It was unfair really to subject a girl to such standards knowing they would all fail.

“I’m not who you think I am either. I’m cold and heartless. I’m reckless and rude. I’m the dark thing you’re afraid hides in the shadows and still I lay my feelings at your feet.” His hand lifted to run the back of his fingers along her cheek as he took another step. “I’ve grown up to be someone hard and ruthless. But loving you, loving you is the only pure thing I will ever do in this world. Because loving you…even a fraction has saved the best parts of me.” He wanted to kiss her, but he would wait there would be time for that. Instead he stared into her eyes, letting his fingers slide back into her hair “Break up with him.”

Because at the end of the night all that mattered was that she knew beyond any doubt that she was loved, deeply and a with a passion that would be dimmed by even death.

This is not the turn she had anticipated the conversation to take. Genevieve had convinced herself that he would shrug in response to her words, give her the same glorious smirk he often did when he knew that he had won, and proceed to kiss her, to make her forget how very vulnerable she had felt only minutes prior with another night spent in the same manner that they had spent every other night together: pretending that the walls of her room were impenetrable, even by the reality of a situation that threatened to consume them time and time again.

Nevertheless, Wolfgang had not chosen to take that road, in contrast, he had only proceeded to tell her words that made her ears burn in embarrassment and her heart palpitate at a speed so rapid she wondered how many more seconds she would last before it would simply burst through her chest. His words reverted her to the childhood fantasies she had held dear to her heart as a young woman, the sort of ideas that came from the many fairy tales she insisted be read to her time and time again before bed. In them, she would be rescued from a castle guarded by a mighty dragon and before she shared love’s first true kiss with her savior, he would whisper words of love and adoration into her ear.

The prince in her dream had taken many forms but from the time she was thirteen, it had always been her Wolfie, the boy whose confident smile was enough to make her daydream about the time that she might call herself his wife. But over time those childish thoughts had been replaced by an irrational fear--one that along with it brought an overpowering desire to push away those she cared for the most, a sense of insecurity that hovered over her like a dark cloud ever since her father’s imprisonment. How could she trust anyone when her own family had betrayed her?

Genevieve had taken a step back, took a good look at the portrait of her future and began to see inconsistencies, found reasons to mistrust, began to read into every word spoken to her, into everything she read about herself in the papers. Things that had not mattered before suddenly revealed a sinister something that she simply could not figure out and in her conclusion, it had only made sense for Wolfgang to be somehow involved in her undoing. What better way to kill the grandiose Genevieve than with a heart that was broken without any possibility of repair? And even though she was well aware that everything between them, every emotion he inspired within her was only another manifestation of her fragility, there was a small part of her than desired nothing more than to be damaged, disheartened, as long as it was at the hands of the man that had plagued her dreams for as long as she could remember.

Wolfgang’s confession caused an ache in her chest, making it increasingly difficult for her to take a breath, as she considered what he meant by his words. There had been other women, of that much she was certain, but did he mean to say that he never cared for them as much as he cared for her? Like her multiple partners, had he sought the company of others to dull the anguish in his heart when they were apart in the same that she had? Did he have trouble sleeping at night wondering where she was when he was not next to her the same way that she did? Did he find his future meaningless without her in it the same way she had for what felt like an eternity now?

Surely that wasn’t true, surely he spoke of love because it was easy, because the weight of the words did not burden him in the same way that they destroyed her. His answer to her question felt sufficient but at the same time filled her with doubt, “Do not confuse your desire for me with love, you needn’t say things like that only for the sake of claiming me as yours, Nicholas is well aware that he has no control over our future together,” she stated as forcefully as she could but the tone of her voice failed her, softening in the same way that her expression had when he had first said the words she had been waiting to hear from him for so long.

“Nicholas means nothing to me,” she reiterated as if it was not clear in the way she deceived him by spending her nights with Wolfgang, she bit her lip softly, mulling over the words in her head as they contrasted with the words in her heart. It was rare to see the young woman at such a loss for words, “How can I not pretend when I have absolutely no idea where we stand when you leave me in the morning and I do not know if it is to seek the body of another woman or to have a good laugh with the lads about how easily you’ve manipulated me into giving you all of my favor,” she stated, the thoughts that accompanied her words only making it more difficult to speak.

“A man I do not love is not capable of hurting me,” she retorted. He was right, Genevieve was a coward when it came to matters of the heart but only because they involved him. How she longed to simply show him how she felt rather than to speak of it, the feeling of regret following her every time she opened her mouth, well aware that tomorrow morning what had been said would not simply disappear but follow the two of them well into the future.

“Stop this, Wolfgang,” she urged him weakly, his questions ones she simply did not have the answer to. Why couldn’t they love each other the same way everyone else in a relationship did? Why was their arrangement of any importance when it came to matters of the heart? The more he spoke, the more she began to question the beliefs that she had held close to her heart for as long as she could remember. “Happiness simply does not become us,” she answered but refused to look at him, as her eyes would make it quite obvious that she was saying words for the sake of appeasing her fears rather than for the sake of being true to her heart.

“You cannot question the way things are, everything is wrong and backward, it wasn’t supposed to be this way. I’ve been betrayed by those I’ve trusted the most, what makes you any different? Why should I believe you when you’re probably waiting for the right time to strike, to claim your victory over my pain?” she continued. Bringing a hand up to her cheek, she wiped away a stray tear as he took a step forward. Unable to speak for herself she simply shook her head, softly but just enough for him to know that she needed him to stay, there was no way she could survive the night without him.

Genevieve could not help but smile at the way in which he criticized himself, words that in no way reflected the depth of his intelligence, the rawness of his emotions, the abundance of his courage, or the magnitude of his sweetness, all sides of him she had come to love, to look for in every other man that she encountered but with no success. His fingers felt cool, a far cry from the heat which she was certain radiated from her cheeks as she willed herself to stop crying. “I hate you, do you know that?” she said after several moments of silence, wiping away her tears as she sniffled, sighing heavily, finally able to laugh, even just a little, at the situation before them.

“I don’t like feeling like this like my entire existence depends on one person,” she confessed silently, leaning forward as she wrapped her arms around him. “This between us has been too painful for too long, I suppose it’s been mostly my doing but—” she sighed again, “Do you swear, do you absolutely swear on Iris and everything else that you’re intentions are pure?” she asked, looking up at him momentarily, “If you can look me in the eyes and swear to me that this is what you want and not what you think will look good to our families or anyone else then---fine, I accept,” she said quietly, burying her face in his chest again. “I’m an absolute mess, look at me, here confessing my feelings for you, years of feelings, everyone is going to have a right laugh at my expense,” she lamented.

But there was a sense of lightness that accompanied her confession, the same satisfaction one might feel when good work had been completed. And this, them, it was good work indeed.

Because I love you

Once words whispered into the locks of her hair as she slept peacefully beside him, were now, words spoken aloud. A phrase he could no longer hide behind a language she did not understand. A sentence he promised to never declared aloud for it may be the one set out to ruin them. They were words that would remind them that such declarations were often met with such devastating losses. Losses that neither of them had fully recovered from. The apprehension to such words was just even if at times he felt himself irrational. The three singular words came together to glimpse hope despite often being overshadowed by fears and insecurities. Words that meant whatever games they had been playing would stop; would give way to hidden emotions and desperate needs. Those words – which had been said without fear – he knew shook the very foundation their relationship rested on. He had said them and knew there was no taking them back, because, then he would be lying to them both. A lie he had lived for far too long. There was no more waiting or allowing her to be whisked off for the company of other men. There was no understanding left in the universe as to why he had not claimed his love and devotion to her. None at all except for some deep dark fear of rejection.

Because I love you

Were the sweetest words he had ever whispered. Though, he had been left hollow from his losses when he was with Genevieve he felt whole. As whole as he had ever been. It had taken much time for him to climb from the darkness from his sorrows and she had been the light at the end of a very long tunnel. She had saved him in countless ways and he wasn't sure she knew how much of his devotion she was owed. Devotion that had always been hers but somehow maginfied over the cousrse of their lives together. He felt the missing pieces of his happines. It scared him, but, Wolfgang knew his fear came from never wanting to lose her. Those insecurities he masked well stemmed from never healing properly from the wounds of life's disappointments. Yet, standing in her room on the verge of something more - something real - scared him a lot less than accepting that he felt something.

It was easier to pretend they didn't feel anything rather then to give into the emotions that triggered their flight response. It was easier to lose themselves to meaningless relationships because it was far less likely they'd be left shattered. It was safer not to attach themselves when the prospect of love was far more terrifying than watching them dive into something that would never be fruitful. It had been their way in school and those moments after until he had realized it was worse for him not to be honest, the thought that she might place those affections he sought after on a platter for someone else made him feel murderous. But, to give into what they truly felt meant to disregard the many excuses as to why anything other than that was an acceptable course of action.

"I'm not confused or caught in some rare moment of sentimentality." he said gently. She didn't get it, had failed to understand the depth of his affection. Regardless of his past she was all there was, all there would ever be for him. Since he was twelve without true understanding of the concept of true love he had felt it. Had known from a kiss that forever started with her. Yes, he had shagged countless women who's faces had blended into obscure moments on a road to forgotten memories. A road he had only taken to placate her need to explore her mediocre options. He had wooed women, had even made grand promises of which none included his heart. He had tried to fight against the fact that in the world full of women he simply wanted her which he knew was a fact she would never believe. To admit such a thing was a threat to the fragility of their foundation, it was a true display of his vulnerability. He was willingly to be shattered by her from the possibility of his declaration being far too much. Willing because at the very least he had sat his fears aside for something far grander, her.

"If he truly means nothing to you....this choice should be easy. Break up with him and allow me the chance to show you how happy we can be outside of the secret kept safely from the world." he reasoned but even he knew nothing ever came easy for them. Wolfgang was not naive, he knew that even the money and status they were accustomed to could not prepare them for love and what the depth of such emotions meant for them both. But, even in the uncertainty of the future he could see his life with her. He could see their happiness and all the things they would be capable of. It should have been easy, but, such important choices were always the hardest to make. "Because I love you."  he said once more despite his words opening the door to many worries and insecurities. Were they not worth the fight it would take for something to blossom from the purity of their love, or, would the fear of being left behind make such a decision an impossibility?  "I know this is a lot to take in, but you can't say you never felt it..." It was impossible to miss, his love for her. He had always been good at pretend but never when it came to hiding his love of her. "You couldn't see that this has always been about more than sex with me?" It wasn't an accusation he had grown to believe it was written in the air around him, his love, so it made it hard to believe it had been missed.

She was right pain came with love but so did joy. So did memories that lasted a lifetime and a family all their own. He knew he couldn't force her into this choice it had to be one she made on her own. "I can not stop." He said just after her "To stop would mean walking away from the possibility of loving you. Of having something real with you and I can not. I could not even if I tried." It was rather hard to explain how deeply connected he felt to her. How often his thoughts were filled with the moments he would have just between the two of them. Of the joy and completion he felt in her presence even as she resisted him. Those deep insecurites told him that they were better off  not loving but he ignored it because he knew he wasn't. He couldn't be when he loved her deeply it nearly consumed him. "Most things do not but that does not mean we don't give in to the things that we want. I want you there is no longer any compromise to be made."

He knew why she wanted to leept up the games they played. He understood the safety in not being all in but he coulds ee the danger of those fears. The possiblity of losing her to some unworthy man was not a risk he was willing to take. "It would be foolish not to. Nothing is wrong even if we have done things a tad bit out of order. That does not diminsh what we have built and what we can have in the future." He reasoned with her as he gave a smile, once more thinking of what they could have once they got out their own way. Everything made him different then those who had been unlucky enough to lose her affections because of careless mistakes. He might have been capable of horrible acts but he was never careless, not with things that mattered. Not with things that were precious and required nuturing. "I'm not them. I've nver been them nor will I ever be. You amy want reasons to doubt this but there is none." He had never betrayed her. He had never allowed his actions to plant the seeds of certain doubt that his affections lay elsewhere. The papers might have painted a picture worth believing but his actions spoke the volumes of his truth. He loved her and only her and the past held not comparison. "I only want your love." He said for good measure in case she harbor farther doubt to his intentions.

His own lips twitched as he returned her smile. His eyes flickered across her face as he took her in, etching his gaze along the delicate lines of her face. "You might want to...but...you don't." He grinned, "We can allow you to believe that you do just a little while longer, even though, we both know you love me." His hands shifted so that he might slide them around her waist, his brows lifting just slightly. "We are mirrored in those feelings. I feel as if a world where I am not loved by you, not showered in depth of your intelligence and passion, not able to bask in your presence is a world I can not exist in." He confessed gently before his head shook, "We wer both afraid of giving into this because it meant acknowleding there was something more here." He nodded to her question. He knew what he felt came from a place of goodness and harbored no ill-will or motives to bring her pain. For this love he could swear on the memory of his sister because even she had known Genevieve would be the most important thing in Wolfgang's life. The ocean of his eyes rose to capture the storm of her gaze and he was silent for a moment as he stared at her. "This is all I've wanted for six years. This has nothing to do with image or family. It's about what I feel in my heart when I look at you. How complete my soul feels to be this close to you. I am in love with you and no one in the world could ever change that."

His arms wrapped tight around her as her head met his chest and he chuckled, "If they are lauging its at the sadness of their own lives for not having what we have." He replied as one of his hands ran up the length of her back. "You've no idea what you do to me. If there were words capable of conveying what I felt..." He pulled back lifting the hand at her back to cup her face as he looked down into her eyes, "but words would do it no justice." He leaned down to kiss her, his lips finally meeting hers as he had longed moments pior. He stepped closer to close whatever distance there may have been. "You should tell Effie you won't need a wake up call." He murmured, "Your morning will be fully occupied."

[end]

The delicate balance between fantasizing that something could become of what they had and the knowledge that things were better left as they were, had been tipped by his words and with it came an onslaught of insecurity that Genevieve had done well to hide from the world. Things often felt right before they went terribly wrong; that was a truth that the heiress had come to terms with when her mother had been taken away from her.
 
How long, then, would it be before they could no longer rely on the darkness of the night to conceal all those undesirable qualities she possessed? How long before her baser desires resurfaced and reminded her why relationships had never worked in her favor? Her reluctance was hardly a symptom of her selfishness but rather, a measure of protection against the pain that Genevieve knew one single heartbreak was capable of producing.

Genevieve wanted to give her heart to someone that could never possess it with good reason, the thought of ever hurting Wolfgang by fooling herself into believing that she could ever love him the way she was supposed to worried her. She knew deep down that the sort of love that he inspired was one that would drain her of all emotional expression, and though there was an appeal to this all-consuming romance they often shared between dinner and midnight and well into the morning, it was no simple commitment.

Even she understood her limits and had been governed by them for as long as she could remember. This was not love, he was feeling, it was an infatuation with the idea of love. He wanted an alternative reality, an alternative her but Genevieve knew that under the layers of her complexity, there was little there to love. All of the qualities he had grown fond of were a mirage, traits taken on as a blanket of security, or better yet, protection from others.

Deep down she was anxious, consumed by the way she was perceived by others, and most devastatingly fixated on the life of a woman that had not been part of her life for quite some time. The mistress of a thousand faces, Genevieve had learned how to play her part as appointed, learning the ins and outs of what it meant to be a Grosvenor in a world that did not take her beliefs seriously.

None of those roles required her to give in to her own feelings, the ones that she could feel slowly growing for the man before her, and the knowledge that her desire was a selfish flight of fancy further proved that this, logically, made absolutely no sense. The only thing she took great pride in was knowing that he could, and ought to, find the sort of earth-shattering passion elsewhere.

“Yes,” she replied, ignoring his comment as the wiles of a child intent on getting what he wanted. She understood these matters of the heart better, in her mind, she could see things from a more logical perspective. “Yes, you are,” she reiterated, though this time she allowed herself to imagine what life might be like if she gave in to the feelings he inspired, ones that she had never experienced with anyone else before. “We’ve done this before, Wolfgang,” she reminded him, it was not the first time they had made an attempt at a relationship though it was the first time he had taken the first step. The last time, Genevieve had allowed her imagination to get the best of her and she had made a suggestion that, deep down, she was almost certain would fail.

And they had. They did. They could not. Not again.

“We’ve played this game before,” she continued, but found it difficult to move away from him, “this isn’t who we are, we are not a fairy tale, we cannot spin this hay into gold, Wolfie,” she attempted to explain, “I am happy as we are, you’ve your freedom, I’ve mine, you occasionally come over, and we part ways in the morning, what else is there to a relationship than that?” she asked. But it was almost as if he had prepared an answer for her almost immediately, the words because I love you, burning themselves into her mind never to be forgotten again. Genevieve did not know how much she had longed to hear those words until she heard them and it was at that moment that she realized that the thought of never hearing them spoken to her again might hurt even more than never having heard them in the first place.

He wrapped his arms around her and as she hesitated to move away from him, she realized why she had dreaded this, the confession of feelings in the middle of the night, the conversation on Nicholas, the speaking rather than acting part of their time together. All of these things had inspired hope and with it came her heart’s desire to give in once again, to allow herself to be hurt with the prospect that this time things would be different. He would break her heart, she reminded herself again. But somehow, Wolfgang had always known how to soften her with his words, a skill she assumed he had acquired over the many years they had been acquainted. “I know,” she said silently, aware that had he been anyone else, any other man, this would not even be a conversation to begin with. Is that what people meant by finding your soulmate? She wondered.

“No self-respecting person ought to wait for six years for anyone, you will regret this, but for now--I'll let you live out this fantasy,” she chided gently even if her insult was just as applicable to her as it might have been to him for she, too, had waited and waited and waited for the moment to be perfect between them. There had always been something there, the girl had felt it in the closet where they shared their first kiss and in the elevator at the wedding in Bath and in the family holiday in Spain where the spark had become even more obvious. But finally, this time, the timing felt right. “You keep talking to me like this and it's all I’ll ever expect, you know,” she said with a small smile, willing away the feelings of nervousness that created knots in her stomach as things changed between them. She could feel it in the way that he kissed her this time, his lips filled with words that she, too, could not convey but could feel.

“I have asked not to be disturbed,” she admitted, though her reason had been something else entirely. “Though I do hope it's for the reason I hope,” she teased, there was no doubt in her mind that their night together would be an otherworldly experience as it often was. “I love you, Wolfie,” she said meekly, the words sounding foreign on her tongue.

Genevieve would give him more than her body tonight, she’d give him everything than she was, and only hope that tomorrow morning the charm would not wear off. 

[/end]