Hawthorne

41 - Free but at what cost?

Vincent Hawthorne

This house feels dead. So do I.

It's been one week. One long and fucking miserable week.

Once the news got out of my official engagement to Elleanour, leaving the house was no longer an option. Hence, me being cooped up inside this wretched house with everything Camilla.

Her scent is everywhere, just... Walking around the place is painful and yet, I almost bit Mariah's head off when she tried to change the fragrance used in the house. It was my mother's request but I'd rather die in agony smelling her than no longer have the one thing I was left behind with.

It, invading my nostrils, is the highlight of my day. How fucking miserable is that? Miserable is my middle name now.

Mother Hawthorne has been trying to hound me like a hunting dog and I've been able to dodge her every single time. Let's see for how long though... She's been restless and infuriated that her Palace informant has been radio silent on her.

By now, the plan had been for the King to be dead already, and my ass to get hauled to Buckingham Palace. Thank fucking god he isn't dead yet.

I need more time. I need to make things right.

My commiseration is cut off by the double doors bursting open and my MIA brother coming inside. This idiot has not talked to me ever since, ignoring my existence and not even letting me explain. And now he chooses to come here and disturb my -lack of- peace?

"What the fuck do you want?"

He doesn't answer.

Instead, he turns on the flat screen in the far corner, by the couches and sits down, watching the TV and jumping between channels. His back is turned to me and it gets on my nerves.

"If you're here to torment me some more, you can fucking leave," I grit.

Edgar turns around, to face me with a wicked smirk on his face. The one I only saw when he was preparing to get him - or both- in trouble, "Oh, dear brother.... the torment has just started."

"Breaking News!" The familiar feminine voice sounds from the TV, catching my attention.

"This is going to be hilarious," he mutters amid a chuckle.

Then it continues, "The King has passed away, this morning. He was surrounded by his loving family member."

What? Fuck, no!

I need more time.

"Oh boy," Edgar sounds. "And... Three... Two... One!"

"HOW WAS I NOT INFORMED OF THIS? VINCENT?! VINCENT!"

I ignore my mother's screeches while she bursts into my office. My eyes keep focused, glued to the TV. We rarely use it, or any other in the building. I am always too busy working or... reminiscing. Still, the one time Edgar decides to use it, it is to show me my fate. The shitshow that is my life. My own brother is handing me the rope and directing me to the gallow. And I deserve it.

All the ruckus around me dies as the buzz in my ears rings loudly. This heart has been barely beating ever since she left. Now, it slows down to a stop, shattering into a million pieces. It causes all of the sweat to run free over my skin, giving away the anxiety.

This is it.

The soft skin grazing against mine. Her shaky breaths hitting my neck when we were making love or the way she looked at me so intensely, so eagerly. Almost as if she were afraid to lose me any moment.