A Tender Kiss Could End A War 🕰️(MxM ›1840s)

||Eight||-›Réfléchir

“You were such a terror!”

“I cannot believe you are being so crossed over someone you do not personally know!”

“Reuben, please try not to be so irascible about every little thing, I consider you my little brother, and it doesn't please me to see you behave in this manner.”

“But I am not your little brother, it is about time you understood that”. As soon as those words left his lips, Reuben wished to take them back.

Obadiah paused, looking at Reuben with a sombre expression, undeniably hurt.

“Yes, you are quite right, I am not.”

“Obadiah, I did not mean...”

The door slammed shut. And just like that, Obadiah had left.

“Obadiah!” Reuben cried out in regret, but it was too late, Mr Webb wasn't returning.

Reuben fell flat unto his bed with a thud, forlorn as usual. There was nothing he dreaded more than upsetting Obadiah, he fought back the tears welling up in his eyes. He lost.

❦︎

☘︎The Next Day☘︎

Reuben's Bedchamber ꨄ︎

Julius Cadwell hadn't been to Reuben's bedchamber yesterday night after the whole ordeal happened, but Reuben did not mind, he did not need a valet every other second.

This morning, however, Julius did come to Reuben's bedchamber. Julius hardly spoke, except for informing Reuben that he had prepared his bath and that he should ring for him once he was done, so as to clothe him. Julius's tone was biting, but if only Reuben could properly see his expression, then he'd know that the glare Julius sent him was much worse.

This was all an hour ago, young Mr Griffith was already done with taking his bath. No one lit candles in an arranged manner like Oliver Berrycloth did, or prepared his bath as Oliver did, but Julius undeniably did a decent job.

Reuben was now clothed in his knee-length cotton undergarment which he had awkwardly shuffled into by himself, not feeling comfortable enough to be completely unclad in front of anyone who wasn't Mr Berrycloth, after all, Oliver is the only one who has clothed him since he could remember.

Reuben's heart still swelled with guilt after his argument with Obadiah Webb yesterday. Reuben knew Obadiah was in the right, yet he struggled to swallow his pride, and admit his fault.

Young Mr Griffith held his breath as he anxiously took the bell on the tray and rang it. Just after a few minutes, Julius Cadwell hobbled in, the throbbing in his back had only worsened the next day. “You rang.”

Nervously fiddling with the ribbon on his undergarment, Reuben spoke. “I am ready to be clothed.”

Again, Reuben was fortunate that he could not see a person's facial expression without them being closer to his face, or else he wouldn't have had the courage to speak to Mr Cadwell. The bedchamber was excruciatingly quiet and tense as Julius firstly assisted Reuben into his breeches, which felt very odd to Reuben to have someone who wasn't Oliver do that for him.

Only if he knew Julius felt the same way, particularly when he was zipping the gentry's breeches and his fingers gently and unintentionally grazed the thin line of hair beneath Reuben's navel, which had Reuben subconsciously squirming a bit at the contact, goosebumps rising.

That had never happened to Reuben when Oliver clothed him.

Julius also became exceedingly aware of how close he was to the young master this way. Julius could see the cluster of dark freckles covering the young man's torso and chest as he now assisted him into his floral shirt. Julius was sure Reuben's skin would be tender and smooth to the touch.