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This is my Facebook account for Benny Jude Road. https://www.facebook.com/bennyjuderoad/?ref=hl




Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.


Your face it haunts my once pleasant dreams…

 

.                       .                       .                       .                       .                       .                      

 

Fridays had been my designated day’s to visit the siblings—well Sara, since the enigmatic Michail refused to make his presence known—only acknowledging his presence through the poignant melody that was played whenever I was leaving. Still I looked forward to Friday’s in the company of Sara. Warm conversation in a commune that could only be shared and understood by women.

My visits were no longer out of curiosity, but that of two close friends catching up to talk. I had started considering Sara as my friend—someone who was slowly becoming a very close and dear friend of mine. And I could see it was true for her. Her manners that were so graceful yet coarse had slowly soften each visit and she seem relaxed and open. These visits were not something out of duty for her to entertain, but for her to actually looked forward too.

However, I did not know that the first Friday of November would be in all the simplest way be consider a life altering day. Like in the normal fashion Sara and I were having one of the most delightful conversation about her fiancée (a Mr. Charles Crewe—whom to my delight and her modification and amusement acknowledge The Little Princess references and the irony) when we were abruptly interrupted.

Joshua, was the butler and had been with the family since Sara was three and Michail was seven.

Our eyes turned to the always stoic and collective older man, but the man that stood before us held an air of bewilderment that seemed odd unsettling both Sara and myself.

“Sorry to interrupt but Mr. Ashton would like for you to join him Ms. Mitchell in his study.”

 

***

Sandwood.

That was the distinct scent that took over my senses and wrapped me into a warm cocoon. Belonging only to him. I had no forgotten the scent that accompany the mystifying Michail the night of our encounter.

I tried with the best of my ability to contain the sheer awe of the space before me. Despite my countless visits to their home I will forever be struck by the sheer beauty of the house. Although Sara had given me a miniature tour of the house none of the rooms were as spacious or held the view like Michail’s personal study.

Stepping inside the first thing that caught your eyes were the cathedral windows that gave you the whole view of the backyard that seem to stretched miles and miles.

The high vaulted ceilings added to the opening feel of the room. Rested in the center was a black grand piano the center piece of the whole room.

 Papers flung across the top of the piano and spread out around the floor balled up paper s tossed among them.

A faint smile came over me—as I stared at the source of the music. Coming further into the room I noticed that there was a second floor with a spiral staircase that lead up to there.

My ravenousness curiosity seems to take over in new heights quenching any nerves of meeting the man that held my interest.

The quiet shuffling from the second floor caught my attention the solid sound of feet hitting against the hardwood.

Each step he took caused something within me to tighten and the feeling of pure anticipation of seeing him once more. The tell tale sound of his feet hitting against the steps as he descended caused a ringing within me.

Despite the tumor my excitement to rest my eyes on those features that captivated me so. I clasped my hands together—a habit of mines whenever I was excited and needing to contain myself physically.

He moved towards me still I had not dare to turn in the hopes that he wouldn’t disappear. Although Sara had reassured me that he now knew that I was not Maxine somewhere in the deep recessives part of my mind feared that he would reject me.

He stopped.

Seconds seemed to be merge into minutes.

My hands tighten—inhaling and exhaling my already frizzle nerves. This was the moment.

I turned towards him.

He was breathtaking handsome—as though he belongs in the Golden Age of Hollywood. His appearance was clean, which should have been expected. The warm masculine scent of Sandwood wrapped wrapped around me like a cozy blanket in front of a fire.

“Hello Michail.”

I know that we weren’t on a first name basis; however, I felt that in this strange game that we called life that we had a better understanding to use first names.

“Zenobia,” he bowed his head in a fashion that belong years ago.

His voice soothing…deep…warm.

Captivating.

“Once again I want to apologize for my…ill behavior. My actions where shameful and undignified, please accept my apologies.”

The sincerity was clear in his eyes and his manners were humble. It was so refreshing compared to the superficial airs and the manners of this generation of men—who didn’t even believe in chivalry or honor in the same character.

“I accept your apology.”

In a rare moment a ghost of a smile came upon his lips and a minor light could be seen in those haunted emeralds he called for eyes.

Silence.

The distant chime of the clock in a distance hallway that interrupted the silence and telling me it was my time for departure.

My eyes moved slightly from his.

“You must leave.”

“Yes.”

“Would you give me the honor of your time after your visit with my sister.”

It was something in his tone…something in the manner of hope.

“Yes.”

He was the motive to these visits and I wouldn’t give up the chance to not see him—not after being in his presence. More importantly after such a small and hopeful request how could I refused.

“Next Friday.”

“Yes, next Friday.”

“Good day, Zenobia.”

“Good day, Michail.”

I turned away from him walking steadfast to the door for I knew if I turned back I wouldn’t be able to leave.

Before the door closed the sound of that melancholy melody came forth. With everything in me I continued onwards with the thoughts of next Friday.












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Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.