Yes, Master

Chapter Eight: Flattery Will Get You Nowhere

  At the end of the day, Alexander walks with me out of the house and drags me to a nearby alleyway. He pushes me up against the wall with a feverish intensity, kissing me hard, his tongue exploring parts of my mouth I never knew existed. It feels so good that I ignore the fact that he was being a bit overly forceful. After he kisses me, I say, “Woah, calm yourself.” 

  He gives me the look of a sad puppy and says, “But Rosalie. You know how gorgeous and irresistible you are.”

  I smirk. “Flattery will get you nowhere.”

     I walk  home and I realize that it’s my day to help out the apothecary in his shop. I walk in and Curtis is mixing some herbs to create a medicine. Without any greeting, he says, “Rosalie, put this on his face,” pointing to the patient lying on the cot, moaning. I apply the paste very gently, and then Curtis hands him a jar of the mixture and gives him some instructions. Then the man walks out and it’s just Curtis and me.

    Right then and there, I decide it’s time to clear the air between us. Ever since the funeral, things have been uncomfortable between us, to say the least.

  “Listen, Curtis,” I start off, “I’m sorry for everything that’s been going on lately between us.” 

  Curtis looks at me and grumbles, “Well, things would have been fine between us if you hadn’t started dating that rich ass. He can’t even fight!” 

   “What do you have against Alexander?” I ask angrily.

  Curtis swivels around and yells, “What do I have against Alexander? I could go on forever, but for starters, he’s completely wrong for you. He’s egotistical and arrogant, and you’re sweet and caring. Secondly, he touched you. Without your consent. That’s just wrong! You just don’t do that! And you just take it! Because he’s so handsome! So what? There are other handsome guys who are actually nice!” 

  Right now, we’re standing face to face, just staring each other. He pushes a piece of hair back from my face. Then, with trembling hands, he cups my face and kisses me gently. I hate to admit it, but he’s a better kisser than Alexander. His kisses are softer, sweeter. He takes back half of the heart that was stolen by Alexander.

  “Why do I hate Alexander? Because he will never know you like I do. The only thing he sees in you is your body, and that’s only because of that low cut dress you wore to the ball. You don’t deserve to objectified like that. You’re so much more than a pretty face, Rosalie. And I see that,” he says softly.  

  “Oh, Curtis,” I whisper, “you sweet, sweet boy. If only it were that simple.” 

  “It could be. Leave that scum, and go with someone who appreciates you for more than your face and body,” he says. He might as well have a big sign pointing to him, but I ignore that. The only thing I see is the look of genuine concern on his face. For me. For him. For us.

   We work in silence for the rest of the night. When we’re closing up the shop, he looks straight at me, and says, “Think about it. For me. For you. You deserve better.” And with that, he turns and leaves.