Dear, Miss Violet. ✔

Chapter 24

Simon Siddell liked thinking about philosophy a lot. 

He loved loosening his cravat, pouring himself some fine brandy while caressing the pages of his brain and soothingly, slowly and steadily letting those words dissolve into his senses.

Simon remembered thinking about the tenderness of love, and writing it down in his diary on page 210, exactly 6 months, and 8 days ago-

'A man loses all sense of the world when he falls in love. Love is a wild force- it makes you do things that you don't want to. It drives you into sheer madness- a hole that either has the strength to fulfill your life- or break it apart. Love is either the rose or the thorn- nothing in between.'

And as Simon looked at Violet, he realized that his love was the thorn- it would keep hurting him until he stopped feeling it.

But the confused look on Violet's face when Simon adjusted her hem was so adorable, that he was sure that he'd fallen in love all over again.

Simon really wanted Violet. In a way that was inexplicable. 

"Thank you so much Lord Simon- I'm indebted, I-"

"Miss Violet, it's fine! It was a stick for heavens's sake."

"Lord Simon, it's just- that you do so much for me."

Simon smiled. They kept walking. 

"Do you know why I do so much for you, Miss Violet?"

Violet shook her head. 

"Miss Violet, I care for you. I truly do."

Violet tried to conceal her flushed cheeks by looking away.

Simon leaned in a little "I'll always do."

Violet looked at him, came nearer and blinked "and, why do you care for me so much, Lord Simon?"

Simon's insides started turning ugly. This was probably the point where he had the chance to confess his love. But he couldn't. He simply could not.

Violet's eyes widened, expecting an answer probably. The air crackled with probable enigma, hushed breaths and tormenting quietude.

"I believe I hear the minuet. Shall we?"

Violet's face fell. Simon gulped.

He looked at her and she looked back.

Finally, she let her hand in his, as they walked toward the ballroom.

As Simon and Violet entered the ballroom, the stares and the sound of the whispers resonated across the room. Men and women alike, swayed away from their path, and the minuet's beginning started warming up.

The first eleven men who were supposed to dance with Violet, backed off as they saw Simon with her.

Simon could feel a large smile creep across his face. He felt happy. Just.

As the dance started, Violet and Simon held hands. They walked, with the others, first to the right, and they bent their knees, danced in the circular fashion, as everyone started filling in the gaps. They locked their arms, as the minuet promised the excitement at the high pitch, and Simon could feel sheer energy bubbling inside him as they took slow rounds, bent their knees again and danced even slowly. The latter took precisely four-and half a second, whereas it should have taken exactly six given the calculation that Simon had performed noticing other's steps. 

That's when he realized. It was Violet who was probably speeding up to meet up with Simon frequently. 

Simon looked at Violet, and caught her staring at him.

She looked away, all flushed and beautiful.

Simon's heart skipped, flipped and probably fell on it's bottom.