Empty Kiss

A young girl was walking in one of the many hallways of the Casper's manor, a cup of Earl Grey in one hand, the other holding the coaster underneath it. In her arms was a small container of plastic containing sugar cubes.

Her master loved to vex her by making her do things he could well do by himself. Recently, he'd asked her to bring him a cup of Earl Grey every evening like he was an invalid.

Lily had no idea why it had to be her. He knew that she went to bed early but he still insisted on it. He said she should do more in the house.

She made her way towards the study room and knocked. When she went in, her master was reading the day's newspaper with his feet propped up on the oak desk.

"What took you so long, Peeping Tom?" Levi asked, not even looking up from the paper.

Her waist-long, wavy, brown hair teasingly fell down from her shoulders as she bent to set down the cup and container beside his long legs. "For the record, I wasn't peeping. You kissed her in the doorway. Anyone that isn't blind could have seen it,"

"I don't like the way you answer, young la-"

"Do you love her?" She cut him off.

He was almost caught off guard by her sudden interruption. He made a mental note of teaching her some manners later.

He snorted. "Just because I pecked her on the lips doesn't mean I love her,"

"It's a little too long for a peck. A peck's like a butterfly's touch, quick and light,"

He rolled his eyes at her cheesy analogy. He raised his eyes from the paper to glance at her with an eyebrow cocked. "Well, the butterfly stayed longer than it should."

"It's not a butterfly, then. It's a mosquito," she deadpanned, her arms crossed. "No butterfly stays that long."

This is why he liked her to bring him the cup of Earl Grey. It wasn't about the tea. The evenings were the only time of the day when he could see her and relax. His long, drabby nights alone were dappled with amusement since then. Sans her lack of manners, she was one of the very few people who could hold a decent repartee with him.

"Why do you even care? A kiss is just a kiss," he sipped from the cup.

"Is that what a kiss really means to you?" She asked, almost in a whisper.

The question silenced him. He sat there staring at her, dumfounded. Ah alas, how the mighty Levi has fallen. The thought never really occurred to him until she asked him about it. Who ponders the meaning of it anyway?

"Well then, enlighten me, my dear Lily. What does kissing mean to you?" His question was meant to be sarcastic, but he was just as eager to know what the other thought.

"Kiss is a fruit of Love, isn't it? When I Love Yous aren't enough, you kiss the person."

Of course that's it. He knew it to be true. But of course his pride begged to differ.

This girl of mere nineteen years is a mock to his thirty. She was wiser than she should be. And she was alarmingly becoming a romanticist. Could it be the books? He made another mental note of limiting her access to his library. Oh but wait, he didn't have those kinds of books in the first place.

"Dearest, kisses aren't as simple as that. Sometimes, it doesn't equate love,"

"Like when Judas kissed Jesus?"

Touche.

He opened his mouth to say something but closed it again. The great Levi was groping for words.

Then her eyes grew big and her cheeks reddened upon realizing something. She was more than embarassed to say it aloud.

"Could it be what they call. . .lus-"

"It's biology," he cut her off.

She titled her head, wondering about what he just said. He was wary of what words might come out of her mouth next. Talking to her was like playing the Russian roulette. You're nervous of what might come out.

"Does that mean something is wrong with you? I mean, I'm pretty sure biology doesn't work that way. . ."

He laughed, and it was a genuine one. The sound reverberated in the room.

Lily looked at him and wondered if she had said anything wrong.

He put aside the newspaper, not intending to read it anymore and stood up. He walked towards her and reached out to twirl a lock of her hair in his fingers.

"You want the truth?" He asked, her locks slipping from his fingers.

"She started it," he said. "I just didn't want to be rude."

"Oh," was all she could muster. His face was so near.

She was used to his gestures of affection. He'd often pat her head, ruffle her hair or gently tug at the ends of it. But she often dismissed it as nothing remarkable because he treated his Doberman in the same way. But this was different. He was too close. His nose was almost touching hers.

But what surprised her is she didn't even feel the urge to flinch. She was fine with it, indulged in it even.

"That kiss was empty," he continued, eyes boring into hers.

"But this is not." Then he placed a chaste kiss on her cheek.

He looked into her eyes to see her reaction and saw that she had them wide open in surprise. She blinked twice, unbelieving.

"Uhm...is this what you call "biology"?"