A touch ever so gentle came from behind. I moved to jerk from the sudden fright, but before I had the chance, the new hand took my own, keeping me still from the project I was focused on.
Undertaker's long black nails flashed across my eyes, and I allowed myself a breath to relax once more,
"Don't- Don't do that! Do you relish scaring me or something? I truly might just punch you one day, and it won't be my fault then."
The mortician chuckled from over my shoulder, his grip becoming slightly tighter,
"So sorry, but I did call you~ You're quite engrossed in this, aren't you? I insist you take a break."
How did he expect me to think about a break when he was so close like it was casual? My instincts told me to rip my hand away, but I simply couldn't find the will to move. When The Undertaker was holding my hand like this, did I enjoy this feeling?
No, he was doing it intentionally because I was honest about my feelings earlier. He was trying to push my buttons now!
With the realization, I swiftly pulled my hand away, but I didn't turn back to face him,
"I don't need a break. I just want to keep sewing this fabric."
"You've been working for hours, little canary, I worry for your poor hands," His words were like a whisper, tickling the back of my ear, "Did that man get to you? I wouldn't allow him to take you away when you so clearly don't want to go home with him."
Prickling anger rushed across my body as I remembered. Nicholas was here, in the shop, looking for me! An insolent man, a pathetic maggot!
I could feel my fingers start to tremble with rage before I got control of myself again and inhaled,
"He... Does not want to love me, he wishes to control me! He wouldn't be looking for me personally had it not been a man who took me from the manor."
I told the details of Sebastian making an appearance after the men left, and I believed my own words wholeheartedly. The first time I was gone all night, lower servants came to find me. But when he saw a man, Nicholas joined the search himself. Could he make his intent any more obvious? A jealous, overcontrolling pig that assumed I'd jump on the first guy I looked at. He's sure one to talk, but he lost any promise of faithfulness long ago anyway. It's only about controlling me now.
"Nobles live in their own little world,"
When the mortician spoke, he lowered his head, and I could feel his long hair brush over my neck. It tickled, but he continued,
"You do too. I wonder what you think about when you get that lil' far-off look in your eyes. When you raise your voice, you carry so much passion~"
Really now, it almost sounded like he liked when I was pissed off. Plus, what was with this sudden closeness? I'd gotten used to invading each other's bubble after working in the shop for a while now, but this was a bit much, even for him.
I merely huffed, refusing to allow myself the feeling of being flustered,
"What do you mean by that?"
"Nothing much," The mortician shrugged off as he backed up once more, "Just that you have a lot on your mind, hm? Won't you tell me more?"
Since when was he the prying type? I almost wanted to laugh in amusement,
"It's nobody's business but my own. You hide secrets too, don't think I haven't noticed. Perhaps I'll consider it when you tell me more about you."
Instead of answering, The Undertaker stepped out from behind me to slink up to my side. When I turned to look, he gave a teasing grin,
"Is that so? What makes you think I'm hiding anything? What would you like to know, my dear?"
That was a loaded question if I ever heard one. If he was serious, I had to be careful with what I asked. If I dove right into a deep secret, he might refuse and I would never get the opportunity to ask anything again. But I couldn't let it go completely to waste by asking something pointless that I didn't care for.
The longer he stared, the more stressed I was becoming until it hit me. That stare...
"What color are your eyes?"
Hardly a heavy secret, but it had been driving me crazy. It was the one thing I couldn't see when I looked upon his face.
The mortician appeared taken aback by the request as well until he smiled, moving to lean his body over the work table,
"Green," The man chortled lightly, "Chartreuse, perhaps. Would you like to see?"
Huh, was he serious?!
I scanned The Undertaker's demeanor, and nothing told me he was teasing. All this time, and all I had to do was ask, are you kidding?!
I felt a lump in my throat when I reached forward, but continued on.
Just as soft as the first time, my fingers grazed along his long bangs. It wasn't quite velvet, nor would I say silk, although it was quite silky in texture, there was something else... Satin, perhaps?
The mortician didn't argue my slow movements, and I admit it felt better to do this with him allowing it, rather than sneaking a peek while he was asleep.
Finally, I brushed some of the locks aside. The man closed his eyes quickly at the movement, but when my hand was out of the way again, he opened them once more and I found myself making eye contact.
They seriously were green. A warm, lime green that glistened even in the dim lighting of the shop. A striking yellow outline accompanied them, I could have nearly fallen into the sheer beauty.
Amazing... For a man I thought was quite older, he still seemed so youthful. The silver hair of a fox, skin a perfect moonlit pale, only interrupted by the scars across his neck and face, topped with beautiful green eyes.
No way, this wasn't fair!
How could I have been working beside someone so beautiful this entire time and had no idea? I've talked down to him more than once!
I finally had to pull back, letting his bangs fall back into place, and turn away,
"I'd say it's more of a minty green," If only to hide this flustered feeling, I needed to argue something. The Undertaker pulled back up, giggling to himself like it was nothing,
"Lime, perhaps. How are you feeling now?"
What sort of sudden topic change was that? Was he truly to push me to admit my shyness? Wait, weren't we talking about something else too? Was I forgetting something?
That's right, we were talking about something else before I got distracted!
I cleared my throat to face him once more,
"I'm fine. I told you, I don't need a break. I have a lot on my mind though so you'd be wise leaving me to sew here. We had a deal to exchange information, but at the moment, I don't quite know what I have to say. I shall tell you when I know it myself."
It wasn't a total fib, I couldn't tell him that I knew he had been lying to me or anything, but there was more to it than that. I needed to put my thoughts together before I said anything.
The Undertaker sighed but accepted his defeat with a short nod,
"Very well, can't help it. A shame though, I was quite looking forward to it."
Yet even as he accepted my answer, the man continued to stand nearby, watching as I tried to keep working. Didn't he have anything else to do?
It was nerve-wracking to know I was being stared at so intensely, and I began to tremble. Cutting through the fabric was jagged, and I wasn't able to string the thread through the eye of the needle. Focus as I might, it was growing increasingly preoccupying.
With another fail to hook my thread, I had to click my tongue,
"Why are you watching me?" I didn't look back to him as I shot my question, "Is there something you require my assistance with?"
For a moment, there was silence. Then, The Undertaker shrugged,
"No, I wouldn't say that~" He teased through his voice, "There was more I wanted to talk to you about, but it's quite the terrible conversation topic while you're surrounded by needles."
Was that so...
That explains why he was trying to get me to take a break then. Fine, my curiosity was piqued.
As I turned around to face him, the mortician grinned wide,
"Interested, are we? Don't look so serious, little canary. I came to my answer to your confession- Or rather, your contract."
It was not a contract!
But that was beside the point, he finally had his answer?
Almost immediately, I could feel my hands begin to shake as my heart twisted in anxious anticipation. As gently as I could muster, the needle and thread were placed upon the workbench, mere inches from the tattered clothing I had been working on.
"Just speak," Was it normal to feel so nervous about the answer? "I'm not some child who can't do two things at once, but I'm already distracted anyway." Did he notice I was apprehensive? I refused to let such weakness be shown.
The mortician leaned his weight against the wall, hands tucked neatly behind his back,
"Ah, no fun. No fun at all when you look so serious. And here I was about to say I want to try it out."
What part of this was fun-?!
Wait, did he just say try it out?
"Does that mean..." Try it out? As though he accepted? Was that what that meant? Stop messing with me, damn it, just be clear!
While I was still thinking it over, The Undertaker moved closer, and before I could register it, the man stood in front of me. He wasn't much taller than myself, but I soon felt quite small. Long silver hair flowed across his whole body, I could only see the mortician's wide grin as his thick robes covered the rest of his skin.
"But, but~" With a whisper, he continued, only for my ears, "You'll need to do everything I tell you-"
"What-?!" What sort of controlling demand was that, I thought he was different! A sleeved hand swiftly covered my mouth, preventing me from talking until he was done,
"And you ought to trust me, alright? Little canary, I want to keep you safe, if you stray too close to my private work, like you did when we brought the corpse back from the Yard, you may be injured. When I tell you to stay put, you'll do it~"
Damn it, this wasn't fair at all. What was the big idea? Sure, I almost stepped into a trap that day, but everything was fine. He spoke like if I walked outside without him, I'd end up...
No, I couldn't think like that, there was still a serial killer out there. That's probably what he meant, it had to be. If it was to keep me safe from a murderer, then I would be a fool not to agree.
I slouched with defeat, allowing the mortician to finally withdraw his hand for me to speak.
"Fine," I hated agreeing to such a restrictive demand, but it was only until the Yard caught the killer! "I'll accept your requirements for now I suppose."
It wasn't like it was in a written order. If I had to run off, like with my fiance, I'd have no problem breaking my agreement. I wouldn't let anyone control me! Even if he was... Weirdly pretty, and smelled nice, and I felt safe...
I was getting distracted.
This meant we were a couple now, yes? I had never been in a relationship of my own choice, I had never even felt love before, what was I supposed to do now?
The Undertaker still stood close, and it didn't take long for my nerves to get the better of me and I lowered my gaze to the floor. This damned shyness, go away already! Leave me be, I was becoming angry at myself! This was foolish, I was a noble, I shouldn't be shy about a relationship, I would be getting in one anyway under normal circumstances, even if it wouldn't be my own choice.
Annoyance quickly overtook my entire body, and I ripped myself away to face the table again,
"I suppose I'll be needing a place to sleep I'm to stay here,"
"Certainly, I'll get on that right away~"
Odd, I didn't even ask him to do that, I was about to question where I was to set it up myself. No matter, if The Undertaker was willing to do that, who was I to deny it?
With a clearing of my throat, I continued,
"I also desire something to make sure it's official. I'm serious, I don't want to be anyone else's... Toy. Not that I'm inferring you would-" I awkwardly coughed, "Whatever, I just want to feel like I don't belong to him anymore."
I wasn't even sure what I was asking. Perhaps simply thinking aloud, I craved something to shove in his face, to let Nicholas know he lost all power over me for good. He couldn't force me to sit beside him, or put on that fake smile around me any longer, I was gone. Yet I didn't even know what I was looking for. How could I stop feeling like I belonged to someone else?
It mattered not what I wore, or where I slept, he could always whisk me away at any moment.
I wanted to feel like I chose this man beside me now, not that I was using him as a shield. Well, the perks of being away from that ass were there, but that wasn't the whole reason for my feelings.
A hand fell on my head gently, and I couldn't dissuade myself from tensing up. I knew he was trying to reassure me, but it was so peculiar to be pat, as though I were a child with my mother once again.
Back before I had any trepidations, any perils, I could just feel solace.
"Quite a troubled one you are," When The Undertaker spoke, it felt like a whisper of an angel over my shoulder, telling me all the things I wanted to hear, "So much on your mind you won't tell little ol' me. What do you want me to do? Official, you say? Do you nobles always move this quickly?"
As he spoke, the mortician's slender fingers threaded through my hair. Soothing, it would've been easy to give in and let myself be entirely vulnerable, but I wasn't that foolish to just drop my guard, even if I was attracted to him. I trusted The Undertaker, but not enough to...
My mind suddenly shifted back to the times Nicholas was physical with me. His overpowering strength that could've broken me if he indeed wanted it, and when I was trapped in my room, what would've happened if that butler hadn't...
My heart jolted with a sudden panic and quickly pulled back, sidestepping the mortician and away from the table. What the hell was this feeling?!
Fear, but why was I afraid? That man wasn't even around! Why couldn't I stop thinking about him, why was I scared to be close to another man suddenly?! This was new, and terrifying, damn it!
My fear clicked into a feeling I knew all too well. Were I not a proper lady, I would have choice things to spit! Get out of my head, why did every good thing have to be interrupted by his godforsaken face?!
I didn't realize I was crying until the salt hit my lips. My hands flexed, my nails digging deep into my palms. Honestly, what was I doing?
An affair before I'm even wed, was I destroying my life right now? I didn't like Nicholas, I didn't care if he dropped dead tomorrow, but was I really the type of woman to two-time? What would he do to me if he found out? What would he do to The Undertaker too? Execution?
I didn't understand what was happening when a pair of hands grasped my wrist with strength enough to force my hands to cease flexing. I rose my head to meet the mortician's face, which was twisted in concern,
"Relax," The man hushed, "You're safe here, my dear. You're going to hurt yourself if you keep stabbing yourself like that. Just breathe little one~"
Stabbing? What was he-
Ah, it took a moment to realize it, my nails were starting to pierce my skin with how hard I was clenching. I couldn't seem to stop shaking!
It was hard to focus on breathing or just calming down, it wasn't like it was that easy I could do something like that on command, but damned if I was going to let that guy constantly ruin my mood! My heart pounded in my ears, but I refused to give in. I refused to let my fiance control my head.
I didn't think to pull away, the warmth of the hold was comforting in a strange way. Perhaps I was simply becoming a strange woman though.
"There you go," The Undertaker offered a comforting smile once my rapid breathing started getting back under management, "Now, how about a joke? Let's get you smiling again."
How could he possibly be thinking of jokes at a time like this? I half wanted to complain about it, but a joke didn't sound half bad.
With a short nod, The Undertaker thought for a moment before finally grinning, "Aha, here's a real winner! My friend once challenged Death to a pillow fight. He's still dealing with the reaper cushions."
That was... Dumb. But cute. A smile made its way to my lips, and I couldn't help an awkward chuckle. It wasn't even that good of a joke, it might've been who was telling it.
Once I started to laugh, the mortician gently released my wrists. He wasn't restraining me overly tight, there wasn't any mark or pain at all, yet he was strong enough to hold me still, how curious.
"That's more like it~ Might you brief me on what happened there? I lost you rather quickly, didn't I?"
He wasn't wrong about that, I wasn't entirely sure either.
"I don't know" As I admitted it, I thought back, "Suddenly I just felt afraid. There are so many... Many damned things getting in the way of what I want, I just want to..."
I paused to take another deep inhale, calming my rage before it even hit. I wanted to tell him everything, but I couldn't find such words. How would I even begin? Christ, I was the one that asked him, and now I was freaking out?!
The mortician cocked his head, his silver tendrils drifting across his chest.
Seemingly considering something, the man suddenly stepped away, leaving me alone in the back room. Did I say something wrong? Where was he going?!
No, wait, he was already coming back.
"Little canary, it sounds like you might be going through some... Emotions," He muttered thoughtfully, "Anxiety, or perhaps trauma, to be more exact. Whatever I did just now triggered those thoughts, yes?"
Something was held tightly in his hands before he looked back up to meet my eyes again.
Trauma? What the hell was that? I was feeling plenty of emotions, and I didn't need to be told the details about them. The idea that The Undertaker himself made me start thinking about Nicholas though, I didn't even want to consider it. What if I began associating the two?!
I could only scoff and turn my head away,
"That's preposterous! There's no way."
I denied it with every ounce of energy I could muster, but it was hard to ignore the possibility that perhaps maybe, he was right. If even a bit, but I refused to be subjected to such a terrible thing.
From the corner of my eye, the mortician folded a sleeve over whatever item he had returned with, catching my attention enough to turn back with curiosity,
"What are you holding anyway? Is that supposed to help with this... Trauma you mention?"
The Undertaker gave a short chuckle and approached, poking a sharpened black nail against my cheek with a playful grin on his face,
"Ah~ Not even I have the magic to control your mind like that. But it would be quite amazing if I could, huh? No no, I can't do anything like that, but perhaps this shall make you feel better."
With that, he pulled back to open his other hand, revealing what looked to be a small box.
I didn't need to ask before he began to explain, opening the item ever so gently,
"What was the word you used? Official, yes? I haven't much time to prepare for such a sudden confession, but I have this."
I found myself looking down at a glistening gem, and my heart wanted to twist in ache. A beautiful diamond ring, how was this fair? It probably belonged to one of the old clients, but it would ruin the moment if I asked that, no doubt.
My fiance never gave me anything, not even a handkerchief, in all the years I was forced to stand beside him.
My words seemed to fail me when I picked up the box to get a better look, and slipped the ring on myself. A bit too big, but it stayed on my finger fine enough.
"Just to be clear, you're not...?"
"I'm not asking for your hand," The man interrupted with a giggle, "I wouldn't say I'm one to have gifts readily lying around often. A couple gives gifts, so here's my first act. Official, just as you requested~"
He gave me a diamond ring as a show of symbolism?!
"You can't be serious?!" Was he totally insane? I knew The Undertaker was a bit unhinged at times, but he acted like he didn't understand the value and sentiments of prices and items at all! "This is a diamond ring! Some upper-class women can't get their hands on diamonds, let alone commoners, why would you just give it to me so quickly?!"
He took a long moment to answer, the mortician keeping his silence as he averted away from looking my way, hand on his chin thoughtfully,
"Well, I suppose... I don't really care about that stuff," He finally concluded, "Aren't you my intern? Surely you've figured that out by now."
Incredibly... No sense of value. I had almost forgotten he took expenditures in bad jokes. But with something like that, did that mean The Undertaker cared or not? Most men would give such a valuable gem with the proposition of marriage, but he wasn't like most men, so what did this mean?
I found myself with more questions than answers, and if Nicholas truly left me with something long-lasting, how was I expected to rid myself of it now?