A Rose Painted Black || The Distortionist x Reader

⊱ ──.⋅Chapter 5⋅.── ⊰

"Make me understand
This is not a demand, but I don't know what else to do
Tell me what I am to you"

»»-------Social Repose-Demons-------««

1 July

For the past few days I've passed it as reminiscents of the jangly music at the carnival, but I can't deny it anymore that out there, in the trees beyond our garden and the picket fence, there were wind chimes and many of them.

The chimes have gone mad lately, though that can be easily explained by the increase of blustery days that alleviated the heat in the atmosphere. The chimes gave out again as the wind plastered pieces of hair to my cheek like caressing fingers.

I strolled through the garden, with vibrant, but also faintly colored flowers, which all could only be credited to the village man who took care of the garden when we weren't here. I sat down on the bench, where I wish I could have brought a book to read in the peaceful seeming place where one could probably lose themselves in a book.

I plucked a nearby flower from the ground. It was small and some of the petals had already fallen. I continued to take off the petals until I stripped it of what once made it beautiful and none remained and I betrayed it by letting the sole green stem that remained fall to the cobblestone path.

Going back was all I had thought, especially after Christopher told me to. At twelve in the morning yesterday, I had my coat and was ready to sneak out, but I didn't go through with it. I overanalyzed it. And besides, how could I know this night-carnival thing was happening that day? It could've been a waste of time out in the cold.

I wanted to see Chris, I admit it. But I had to keep lying to my parents and it would get quite difficult once they saw through my lies. Maybe I could tell Chris about it. I would try and ask once I know where my parents are.

(B/n) walked up to me with a bored look on his face.

"Momma said you have to take care of me."

(B/n) sat next to me, with his legs dangling above the ground and his hands curled on the edges of the bench.

"Great."

I wished his nanny had come with us, but mama insisted our summer home was a time for simplicity. No one, except a temporary chauffeur and a maid, traveled with us. Me and (S/n) didn't have a nanny growing up, nor a governess because mama didn't believe we needed it considering she didn't grow up with that and ended up just fine. Mama raised me and (S/n) and taught us some basic things, though there was one thing mother didn't know how to teach, and that was proper etiquette that is expected in father's side, so thus, a governess for us--eventually.

"Is mama with papa? Where are they?" I asked.

"I think in the sitting room." (B/n) rested his elbows on his knees. "I think we're going somewhere for a week."

"We are!? You better not be joking, (B/n)." This'll only limit my time at the carnival. Oh, I hoped I could somehow stay.

"I just heard." He shrugs and jumps off the bench. "Can we go inside, pleaaase?"

"Yes, we can go," I grumble.

We got inside our small, but comforting library, which we never got to fully experience, because the fireplace and thick carpet in front of it, called for a frosty winter night where we'd all curl up in blankets in front of it as we read our favorite books and sipped on hot drinks. During the summer, though, that sounded unbearable.