My Virtual Darcy 🏆 2021 Wattys Shortlister

21 - The Jewel of Derbyshire

Huffing and puffing under the weight of the leather couch, I complied. Once the furniture was in position, Theo got up on it, and pulled me up to his side. We were now at eye level with the painted Darcy.

"Boop his nose."

"What?"

"I know it seems silly. I had to hide the backdoor in such a way that no Bridge user or DigHandler would stumble upon it randomly."

"In that case..." I obeyed, but nothing happened.

Theo chuckled. "You have to say Boop."

I complied, and the portrait shimmered, then reverted to its previous state.

"Now what?"

He answered by diving head first into the painting, as relaxed and trustful as if he was passing a door, leaving me alone and flabbergasted in the empty room. I grazed the portrait, my palm encountering nothing but air. With an apprehensive sigh, I jumped after him. Darkness enveloped me, warm and welcoming, like a balneotherapy shower cabin, but with hot air jets.

Then I came out in a Tim Hortons restaurant.

A girl about my age, sporting the brand's characteristic cap and shirt, addressed me. "Hi. How are you? What can I get you today?"

"Err, a coffee and a chocolate glazed donut, please," I blurted out, glancing at my embroidered mittens to ensure I was still in-game.

"I'll bring them in a second," she replied, motioning towards the table at which Darcy was waiting, giggling at my bemusement.

"Why are you wearing jeans while I'm stuck in this tent?" I grunted, fighting to cram my petticoat under the Formica table. Not that I minded the sight of his muscular shoulders in a tight tee.

His brows furrowed in concentration. "There. I'll load the same modern outfit as last time."

Once the period clothing disappeared, I breathed deeply, savouring the full expanse of my lungs.

"Is it that painful to be corseted?"

"Wanna try?"

"Err, I don't think these pecs would fit," he countered, sticking out Darcy's chest.

"Bridge?"

His grin faded away, and his mouth twitched in apprehension. "Don't you dare."

I cleared my throat with glee, reveling in the trick I was about to play on him. "Bridge, I believe Darcy here wishes to experience the comfort of women's Regency undergarments."

In appearance, his outfit remained the same. But something in his noble mien was slightly less... bending.

"It hurts to breathe." With a pained grimace, he inhaled, his skin growing paler as he fought for oxygen.

"Any thoughts on the drawers?"

"None. I can't feel anything under my waist."

"Bridge, Darcy is turning blue. Let's stop torturing him."

He rolled his eyes heavenwards, a thankful grin on his face. "I know some dandies wore corsets during this era, but gosh, you ladies had it hard."

"And still do to this day."

The cashier brought our beverages and donuts, and went back to the counter. In an instant, the sound of coffee beans being grounded saturated the homey atmosphere of the little restaurant.

"Why does your secret space look like a Tim Hortons?" I sipped my java, amazed to find its taste identical to the real deal.

"I figured it would be nice to have something to nibble on while we chat. And I spend a lot of time in the one located in Promenades Cathédrale, near my apartment. I guess it's my favourite spot."

Behind him, on the other side of the shop window, pedestrians wandered down De Maisonneuve Boulevard, jaywalking in front of a bike. I grinned when after twenty seconds, the same scene repeated, and the passers-by again crossed the street and dismissed the annoyed honks of the cyclist.

"What time is it?"

"It's a little before 11 PM."

"I should head back soon. I have to wake up early tomorrow."

"But you've only just arrived..." Grey clouds piled up in the sky, breaking into a soft drizzle as Theo stared at his donut. At the counter, a woman grabbed her paper bag and, frowning at the weather, took a seat near the entrance.

"Hey, are we safe here?" I exclaimed, desirous to change the subject.

"We are."

"We can do anything we want without triggering your colleagues' dive or risking your job?"

"We can."

"Anything?"

Theo squirmed on the bench seat, glancing at the NPC in the kitchen. "Anything."

I batted my eyes at him, and rested my chin between my palms. "So..."

"So?" He swallowed with difficulty, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down.

I cut to the chase. "So, would you like to switch to your real appearance?"

Relief, dismay, confusion, and reticence succeeded on Darcy's face. "Are you sure? Don't you prefer this body?" he asked, absent-mindedly ripping his donut to shreds.

I outstretched a hand, and laced my fingers with his. "I don't."

Our gazes locked, bearers of hope and yearning.

At last, Theo replaced Darcy on the other side of the table, lopsided grin, snub nose and all.

"Hi." I beamed, tightening my grip on his slender fingers.

"Hi," he mumbled, his face overspreading with an intense blush.

The earthy aroma of freshly-brewed coffee filled up the small shop, tousling our hair with fragrant wafts. Outside, sunrays pierced the thick cloudy blanket and painted halos on the heads of pedestrians.

I smothered the longing of my soul, and got up to drop a kiss on Theo's cheek. "Sorry. I really have to go home. My Creative Writing teacher, she's... well... She's been loaded into Lady Catherine, so I'll let you wrap your head around why."

He remained silent, an unspoken plea refusing to pass his lips.

"Must I return to Pemberley before logging off?"

"Yeah. I'll stay here for a bit." His dark brown eyes begged me to stay, promising donuts--virtual thus calorieless--by the dozen if I did.

"Bye, Theo."

He nodded, his gaze now lowered to the shredded donut in his plate. "Take care, Leah."

"Back to the game."

After Darcy's portrait spat me out on the sofa, I turned to face the secret entrance. As it remained dull and lifeless, I whispered, "Bridge, off."

"She's moving! Oh, God, she's moving." Amy's panicked cry pierced my bedroom, only interrupted by her hugging me desperately, muffling slobbery sobs in my neck.

Under my door frame, pieces of coconut jelly jiggled on the floor, near a shattered plate. "Ames? What's wrong? Are you alright?"

Mom and Dad's frenetic steps resonated on the stairs, then in the hallway. Upon spotting us, my mother's knees gave way, and she slid down to the ground, her knuckles white from clasping Daddy's pale hand.

"Am I alright? Leah, you were catatonic. I came to your room with your share of dessert, and you were standing, there, stiff and unresponsive, pupils dilated."

"Really? I was just immersed in the story. Weird that I didn't hear you calling. Usually, the game stops when my attention is required." I drew large, soothing circles on her back, only stopping when the wailing turned to soft sniffing.

"Maybe don't use your gift for a while, pumpkin? Maybe it's defective?" my father croaked, leaning on the doorframe for support.

I nodded, questions racing in my feverish mind.

Was the latest update faulty, or did my mingling with Theo compromise the integrity of the device?