Roots and Oxygen

Chapter 11 - Confidence and Waistcoats

Sage fell asleep before calling for his Valet to undress him. When he woke, he thought it was morning. "No," he groaned with his head on the desk after someone heavily shoved him. "Stop waking me like that."

"I've told you before, I shout you and you don't hear me," a deep voice said close to his ear.

Sage wanted to roll over, until he realised that he was in a weird position, and his neck was sore. He groaned and lifted his head. Taro was leaning over him with those bright green eyes. "It's not morning, is it?" Sage asked, still half asleep. The light that basked them was moonlight from the alcove window. His room was darkly lit and confusing him.

"No, It's almost midnight though. You need to get ready for bed." Taro already had Sage's pyjamas hanging over one arm.

"Wait what happened to the plant?" Sage asked after a long yawn. "Don't tell me the cleaner snuck in and took it while I was sleeping here."

Taro followed Sage's finger to the empty corner on the desk. "I took it. Anyway, I thought those plants didn't like direct sunlight."

"Do you know much about Devil's Ivy?" Sage asked, ruffling his tight curls as he pulled his jumper over his head.

"It might not like being on your desk."

"It seems to prefer my bedside table," Sage mumbled.

"Maybe you should keep it there then, Sir."

Sage's hazel eyes trained on his Valet to see where his eyes darted when he undressed. Taro was very impolite. His eyes didn't shy away at all, and Sage felt wary enough to go behind his changing wall. "You know, a well-trained Valet is meant to divert their gaze when their employer is changing."

"Even if they enjoy the view?"

Sage froze with one leg in his pyjama bottoms. What a gay thing to say. He quickly pulled them up to his waist. Is he gay? What if he thinks I'm gay if I don't tell him off? Is this a trick? Am I being recorded? He sighed and slipped his arms through the deep red silk of his buttoned-down night shirt. Shut up Sage.

He knew he blushed when he stepped from behind the changing wall. Taro, with that faint smirk of his, leant against the wall, staring calmly at a painting above Sage's bed. The painting was some ancient greenery around a lake that had dried up fifty years ago. Sage didn't like it, but it was expensive and had no other home than above his poster bed, where he assumed it had been for almost a century.

"You can go to bed now," he said after buttoning up his own shirt. "You'll be pleased to hear that I'll be sleeping in. I'll ring for you when I'm awake. Oh, and make sure the plant returns to me before bed. I think I forgot to water it today."

"The plant was watered," Taro said as he peeled himself off the wall. "You should probably not forget again."

Sage gave him a look, which was turning into the look that told Taro his manners were slipping.

"Sir," Taro reluctantly added.

"I'll set my alarm right now, to be woken at 4 in the morning to water it. Lucky me." My night just gets better and better, he thought bitterly.

"And lucky plant," Taro muttered with a smirk before striding across the long room.

"Good night Mister Vinea."

"Sir." Taro bowed his head and left.

Sage was asleep before he heard the usual thud of someone putting the plant outside his bedroom door, so the plant was still sitting in the dark and cold corridor when Sage's alarm woke him four hours later.