My Dear Butler

43. Dreamland

Sighing, you finally gave in.

Strolling through the ruined hallways, you suddenly found yourself standing in front of a door. How did you get here?

Lily had insisted for you to stay in the manor for the time being, and despite your constant refusals, she was stubborn. Saying that it might be dangerous for you to go outside, seeing the things that have happened.

And so she left, just like that.

Your hand lingered on the doorknob, debating on whether to open it or not. Your other hand clutched tightly onto his pocket watch, the soft ticking of the second hand making you more and more anxious.

Might as well. You couldn't hide from him forever anyway.

As much as you wanted him to awaken, you dreaded meeting his eyes. You knew the amount of damage you had done to his heart, and you weren't ready to face the consequences. You regretted everything you said, everything that he heard.

What was he feeling now?

Taking a sharp breath, you twisted the doorknob and used your body weight to push open the door. Each step you took seemed to echo exceptionally loudly in the room. It also didn't help that your heart was thundering just as loudly in your chest.

As you lifted your head, you found his sleeping form tucked snugly into the covers. Without another thought, your body instinctively moved to his bedside and you sat down gently, scared to wake him. You placed the watch on the table set beside his bed as you tried to refrain yourself from staring.

After you had gone unconscious, Lily and her victorious army of servants had found three bodies beneath the trapdoor— one dead, two barely alive. They had rescued the both of you and cleaned you up nicely, then left to find their families. If you had the chance, you would visit every single one of them, thank them and offer them a job back at your household. You did need some help with the renovation, after all.

Your eyes skimmed over his face, your heart dropping as you noticed the new additions. A bruise to his cheek below his left eye, one at the side of his lip, and another cut on his right cheek that would surely leave a nasty scar once it healed.

You couldn't imagine what the rest of his body looked like— all you could remember was the devastating amount of blood stained on his dress shirt.

A lightbulb going off in your head, you stood up as you made your way into the washroom that was connected to the room you were currently in. You noticed a small bucket sitting in the sink, and you turned on the faucet, filling it with warm water. You found a soft towel hanging nearby and you drowned it in the bucket as you turned off the faucet and carried the bucket back out to the room.

You set the heavy bucket down on the table beside the golden pocket watch, and you grabbed the towel and squeezed it dry. Straightening it, you began to wipe down Yesung's face, applying as little force as possible so you wouldn't cause him pain from his injuries.

His eyes twitched ever so slightly as if he felt your touch. His delicate lips were parted as small breaths escape through them, and he shifted when you passed over a bruise. You lifted your hand when he did, not knowing how to act.

You brushed apart his raven hair to see his eyes better, his long eyelashes casting faint shadows over his soft cheeks. Once again, you were enticed by him, and you couldn't help but allow your heart to be captured again.

Did you deserve to feel this way for him? Not really, but you no longer controlled your heart.

As you finished cleaning him, you returned the bucket and towel back to the washroom. Deciding to stay with himfor the night, you closed the curtains along with the window and settled beside him.

You sat on a chair, your upper body leaned forward onto the bed as you buried your face into your arms. Tilting your head, you watched Yesung through the corner of your eye, strangely feeling the need to avoid looking at him directly.

Because you had a feeling if you did, he'd wake up.

It's not like you didn't want him to wake up-- but rather, you were afraid of the guilt that you might feel if he did because surely, you knew you had wounded him deeply. What would he say? How would he act?

Sighing, you closed your eyes and for the first time in four days, you found yourself drifting off to dreamland, feeling a sense of security.

"Good night, Yesung."