"René," she said, voice calm and soothing. So very different from how she spoke to Mikaela. René wished she would to speak to Mikaela like she did to him on these fleeting secret meetings. "You must understand that I did not want my little dove at first."
René couldn't help but frown at her words, couldn't help but feel warm, deep in his chest at the words: "my little dove."
She continued, "I found it impossible to love a man who was forced onto me, and then the child of that same man." She turned and sent him a smile, so sweet and reminiscent. "I couldn't help but to fall in love with him when I heard a quiet heartbeat. When he kicked me." An adoring smile adorned her delicate features as she placed a hand on her abdomen, as if reliving the sensation of being kicked from the inside.
"Then I found myself singing to the jelly bean inside me." She said. She widened her smile(it was a very sweet smile) when René let out a small giggle, coughing to cover it up.
"When he was born," she paused to look up to the sky as she let out a pleased hum. "Goodness, after so much pain came my happiest moment."
"He was so tiny and innocent." She whispered, René heard, she knew he would. "So blind to the cruelty he was being born into. That's why I tried my best to hide him from it...as you know, I failed."
Her smile was gone. She looked down and to René. Her arms extended outwards as she walked closer to him.
René was nervous. Eleven and so very nervous. She crouched in front of him, gently holding his shoulders. She forced a smiled, it was very desperate and pleading and pitiful to look at.
"Please protect him, René." She pleaded, "Promise me you will. Promise me you won't let him be hurt."
Without missing a beat, without a doubt, René promised, confident and mature, "Yes. I promise."
"Thank you." She whispered, her soft voice cracking as she leaned and lowered her head to rest on his small shoulder.
René went stiff and nervous. Unsure as to what to do. Surely he could not touch her, he wasn't allowed to. It was a given that he could not push her away, and so he did not deny her when she asked him to hold her. "Just for a bit." She said. René smiled, small and kind. For the first time ever, he touched Mikaela's mother.
Yuuichirou sent a letter. A letter of apology. Within it he claimed he needed time to think, the rest was a heartfelt apology. Mikaela hated him for apologizing.
Mikaela, just to stress Yuuichirou, waited a week to reply. With a dainty hand, curvy, perfect cursive, he wrote Yuuichirou. Claiming he had nothing to apologize for and requesting his presence. Not caring to divulge why he wished to see him. Mikaela realizes that maybe he is cruel, he can be cruel when regarding Yuuichirou. Or perhaps, Mikaela is no longer the person he was. No, he definitely is not. It makes Mikaela sad—disappointed.
Besides him, René picks up the empty teacup by its saucer. Picking it up with a practiced grace. Careful and calculated movements ensuring he doesn't make any more noise than what is to be expected.
René casts his tired eyes on Mikaela's form. He is slouching and stiff. Sulking and confused.
Despite his solemn mood, Mikaela does not hesitate to straighten his back when René tells him to. They have done this before. They will do it again.
René looks back to the teacup. He looks at Mikaela. He straightens back up and looks down to where his hands hold the teacup. The teacup had a twin. It had been years from the last time René saw the other. Momentarily, as he moves to refill Mikaela's teacup, he thinks back to the deafening shatter it had made.
Back in that moment, it was all René could hear. He thanked the heavens for that. A teacups shatter, were far better than screams.
She smiled. Greeting and warm as always. She was drinking tea and reading a book. Book forgotten and she stood and made her way to where René stood, quietly closing the door behind him.
He meekly nodded instead of smiling, she snorted, unable to resists René's childish charm. Still so very nervous and inexperienced.
She took his hand and led him to the round glass table, motioning for him to sit in the chair next to hers. Once he was seated she directed him another smile and asked, "How is he? Is he eating well? His studies, how are they? Does he find them difficult?"
René smiled a teeny tiny smile. "He is well, misses you dearly, but he is well. He tends to smile more now. He has a healthy appetite, although he begs me to eat sweets before dinner." René huffed out a tired sigh, making him appear older. She laughed at his mannerisms, finding them to be adorable. "I have to scold him every time, reminding him he cannot spoil his dinner by filling up with sweets."
Then, René dropped the frown for a small, proud smile. "Oh! He is doing excellent! He absorbs everything very quickly! His memory is also wonderful. I quiz him at a random and he almost always replies with the correct answer—of course he is young so he has failed to retain everything but he is doing wonderfully!"
She could see how proud René was of Mikaela. It made her chest feel warm with delight. Then fill with sorrow when she remember she could not witness him complain and beg for sweets. Oh, he had such a big sweet tooth! She couldn't see him groan and pout in annoyance when he didn't like what he ate or what he drank. Couldn't see him whine and pout when he couldn't retain what he had learned.
Even so, she smiled. Albeit sad and sweet, bittersweet.
Slowly and quietly, she said, "I see. I am so very proud."
René smiled a wide smile. Making her lighten up, just a tiny bit.
"Be sure to deliver and kiss to the nose and tight, tight, lovable hug to him for me. Anonymous." She said, patting his shoulder. Moving her hand to his head and down the side. Pushing black locks behind his small pointed ear, hand cupping his jaw. "As always."
René nodded and hopped off the chair. His face returning to its blank state. As he walked to the door he listened as the tea cup and the saucer underneath it parted. The tea cups rim met soft lips, a swallow. The tea cup and the saucer reunited. Roses to roots.
René looked back as she lifted her book. Setting her eyes on the many words on one single page, she knew he was watching. René knew that, still, he stared for a bit.
He frowned a bit and then turned to the door, tuning its handle and stepping outside. Closing the door behind him as quietly as possible.
When René arrived at Mikaela's room, he wasn't shocked to see Mikaela was doing the same as she was. Drinking tea and reading a book.
While she sat gracefully and tall in her flower printed armchair. Mikaela drowned in the twin armchair, also graceful but drowning in it. He was so small then.
René walked further into the room and took in the twin teacup and saucer in the glass table. Roses to roots. His chest ached.
Everything they owned came in pairs. Unknowingly to Mikaela, knowingly to her, as it was her sweet sweet(heartbreaking) idea.
Softly, René called Mikaela's name. Immediately, Mikaela snapped his book shut, making sure to place a bookmark within its pages to not loose his place. He set the book down on the round glass table and looked to René. Eyes bored and tinted with a hint of annoyance. He thought René was here to deliver him to his classes.
'Oh, dear sweet child, you are wrong.' René though with amusement.
René puffed out a breath through his nose. Mikaela tilted his head at the carefree blank expression René held. Still not an expert on reading his expressions. Some expressions where still new and unfamiliar.
René walked over to him. Then climbed onto the armchair with him, before he was completely on, he paused to listen. Closing his eyes in concentration he didn't notice the bubbling excitement in Mikaela's blue eyes.
René listened for footsteps. There were many in the hallways, all of them innocent. René flinched when Mikaela tugged him close, almost onto his lap. He would have if René hadn't slammed his hand on the back of the armchair to prevent himself from crushing the smaller child.
Mikaela whined, tiny and with a pout. He craved to be touched, innocently and sweet. René smiled and scooted closer on his knees. He shifted them around so his back was against the back of the armchair. Then he pulled Mikaela onto his lap. There he took in Mikaela's very, so so very pleased features.
Fluffy golden locks, shining in the morning sun that came int through the balcony doors. Bright blue eyes shining in excitement, happiness and adoration. Pink lips set to a smile, not wide but not tiny either. It was ver excited, it turned sweet along with half lidded eyes as small hands, although bigger than his, ran through his hair. Tugging gently and curling around a pointer finger.
Mikaela was in a sweet daze as René gently adjusted Mikaela's hair. He then closed his eyes and pressed his lips to Mikaela's boppy nose. Mikaela shivered and scrunched it up. He giggled and René smiled as he pulled away.
Right after, Mikaela knew what was coming, as their little sessions always ended with a tight hug. A kiss would be placed somewhere, followed by a tight, tight, lovable hug.
As they hugged René couldn't help but laugh softly and blush when he remembered the first time he had delivered a sweet kiss and a tight, tight, lovable hug.
Mikaela had been so ecstatic then. As it was the only moment where René would touch him. Even as he dressed him everyday, René would skillfully avoid touching Mikaela's pale skin. Even as Mikaela flinched and squirmed at random times to get René to touch him. The black haired male always seemed to know when he would move, as he would quickly removed his hand out of the way, successfully avoiding contact. It had made Mikaela sad, thinking he was a bad child. His mommy wouldn't see him, if his faithful servant didn't wish to even touch him, then surely his mommy would never again do so.
But then René placed a kiss to his forehead and gave him a tight, tight, lovable hug and Mikaela was over the moon. Then, it became a game. He would attempt to get René to touch him and René would skillfully avoid touching him. Their playfully fit always left Mikaela pouting with the distaste of failing every morning.
The first time René delivered a sweet kiss and a tight, tight, lovable hug, it was a kiss on the forehead and a hug delivered in front of Mikaela's walk in closet. Mikaela's stuffed toys as their only witnesses.
René could not, under any circumstances, forget the second time. As he kissed Mikaela's small chin and then gave him a tight, tight, lovable hug. Mikaela was excited, a second time! René willingly touched him a second time!
But that was not it. It was not the excitement nor the joy in Mikaela's everything. It was that after Mikaela finished running around and squealing. He ran back to René asked him to lean down with his hands covering his sneaky smile.
René had done as asked, leaning down in curiosity as Mikaela bloomed red. Removed his hands and gifted René his first kiss. Stealing away René's own in the process.
René was shell shocked and red, so very red. Wide eyes as he stared at Mikaela who giggled away and ran over to his bed. Climbing into it and yanking out a pillow from under the heavy comforters. He turned around and sat on his knees, his thighs not touching as he hugged the pillow to his chest and hid his nose and mouth from view. Shyly looking at René.
Who swallowed and straightened his back. Not daring to break eye contact. Mikaela seemed to get redder by the second, but that did not lessen the fixated and intense gaze he directed at René.
Then, as a barely turned twelve-year old, René realized his little master was crushing on him. It made his chest warm up, made him smile at the innocence Mikaela possessed. Made him sad when he thought about how—how much sense it made. René was the only one to give him the love and sweet, sweet touches he craved for. René was the only one that did everything he wished for. How could he not love the only person who promised his life to him?
René was in the kitchen, baking sweets for Mikaela. Lacus was with him. Yoichi with Mikaela.
René looked up from stirring the bowl filled with the dry ingredients when Lacus cursed under his breath, with a hiss. He was waving his hand back and forth as he closed the oven. He burned himself.
"Why was your hand in there?" René asked. Lacus flinched and turned to him with a sheepish smile. Silently asking for forgiveness. René shook his head in resignation, he returned to the task he had set out to do.
As Lacus scurried around the kitchen collecting the wet ingredients, René reminisced over the first days Lacus had arrived.
René was thirteen. Mikaela was seven. Lacus was twelve and so very smitten.
Mikaela read as if his life depended on it. He didn't want to be part of the reality he lived in. A week after her funeral, Lacus arrived.
Very attentive and inexperienced. Mikaela felt pity and hate towards him. Pity because he was a child taken form his home to serve him. Hate because Lacus was clumsy, loud and cared too much for his own good. René knew when to stay and when to leave. Knew when to speak and when to not. Lacus did not.
René told him to be patient, that Lacus would learn. Mikaela wished time would hurry. In the mean time, he read. Nose always in a book as René went about his duties and taught Lacus how to do his.
Mikaela was in the kitchen, sitting on one of the chairs, elbows on the round table that the servants used. He wasn't supposed to be there, just like his elbows weren't supposed to be on the table. Mikaela felt like rebelling, just a tiny bit.
Mikaela was in the kitchen when Lacus burnt his hand. A cry and the clatter of pans.
Two months had passed and Mikaela had grown a tolerance for Lacus. Even so, René did not expect Mikaela to leave his book in a hurry to tend to Lacus. René tried to take Mikaela's place, but Mikaela, much to his surprise, warned him to stay away by almost biting his finger. With glaring blue eyes and a determined pout, Mikaela convinced René.
René nodded and watched. Lacus was very red. From embarrassment and from what Mikaela had felt for him a year ago. A crush. René thought it would fade with time. He knew it wouldn't when Mikaela kissed Lacus' pinky and told him: "Please be careful. A wound on you is like a wound on me."
René had heard that line before. Not matter how many times it was used, it was always genuine. Always made the receiver smile and flush red. Who wouldn't with that sweet sweet smile and caring eyes?
René watched as Lacus grew with his eyes on Mikaela. Watched as Mikaela, blissfully unaware smiled at Lacus. Sweet. Adoring. Doting. He would never see Lacus the way he wished to be seen.
René knew that for sure when Mikaela came home one day. Nineteen and so very red. His lips were bruised red. He had been kissed. Mikaela was a mess when he caught René staring.
"T-this is just--" at a loss for words and hiding his lips behind his palm, René shushed him and said, "In your room."
Mikaela hadn't denied him then. Stumbling up the stairs and through the hallways to his room. Once they were inside with the doors closed, Mikaela let out a weightless sigh and flopped down onto his bed. On his back he laughed. He had sounded very happy then. It made Rene's chest feel warm. Made his lips tilt up, a tiny bit for Mikaela to see. Mikaela did not see and that was okay.
"How was it?" René asked. Calmly and with his tiny tiny smile. It was teasing. Mikaela was very red and very embarrassed.
"I-it..." Mikaela drifted off, sitting up and tugging a pillow to hug it to his chest. Hiding his mouth in the pillow, in a soft, dazed voice he continued, "it was wonderful."
René smiled and looked down to his hands. He held a rose. He had been on his way to deliver it to a maid, she had requested one and René saw no reason to deny it. She was ill and a bright color would do her well.
René caressed the rose and said, "I'm glad."
Mikaela was in love. René began to count the days.
Mikaela smelt like a human. It would not last. René would be there for the storm.
"Avec moi—"
"No." René chided. He was teaching Yoichi French. "Your accent is still clumsy. Practice that."
Yoichi frowned. "But if I learn new words—"
"There is no point in learning them if you cannot pronounce them." René stated, stern and leaving no room for arguments. Yoichi didn't know how Mikaela was not a discouraged by the way René spoke. It was not meant to be discouraging. It was purely René. And René is sternly caring.
"No more words until you make the accent your own." René said this as he stacked up the various volumes of French. He was taking them away to ensure Yoichi wouldn't learn new words. Yoichi knew that. He had done it two days ago. Rene's scolding lasted over thirty minutes.
"Okay." Yoichi quietly said. Looking at his hands. He flinched when René placed a hand over his. Yoichi looked up. René was standing sideways, ready to leave. He had things to do, Yoichi has taken up the time he used to relax. The textbooks hugged to his chest, he motioned to them with his head as he said, "You are learning fast. Learn the accent and you will be able to converse in French very soon."
Yoichi smiled, wide and proud. He understood Mikaela.
"Je m'appelle Mikaela Shin—"
"No." René cut in. Clearing his throat and straightening his posture, he corrected, "Je m'appelle Mikaela Shindo. Repeat."
"Je m'appelle—"
"Your pronunciation is off." René stated. He continued despite Mikaela's annoyed and tired pout. René took Mikaela's hand and placed his fingers into his mouth. Against his tongue. He repeated, "Je m'appelle Mikaela Shindo, et toi? Repeat."
Mikaela was a little red. It felt a bit a strange, but it felt very sweet. For creatures like them who used their fangs—Mikaela could feel Rene's fangs. They were just another thing to touch. There was no danger.
Slowly, Mikaela mimicked the pronunciation he felt against his fingers. His fingers falling away from Rene's mouth as he repeated, "Je m'appelle Mikaela Shindo, et toi?
René smiled and nodded. His hands wiping off Mikaela's fingers with a tissue. "Very good, Mikaela."
Mikaela failed to notice the use of his full name. Instead he was focused on the warmth his fingers still felt from touching Renés tongue. It was an intimate moment. René could have bitten him. He did not. If it were anyone else, Mikaela would have panicked. It was René, he was at ease. There was no danger.
Mikaela smiled. Softly. Sweetly. "Merci beaucoup."
René returned the smile. "De rien." He gave Mikaela's hands a small squeeze.
René was in the garden. He was gathering roses. Mikaela was with him. Behind him and leaning on an oak tree in the shade, reading. Brothers Grimm. René cut roses in the sun.
The roses had thorns. Mikaela preferred them that way. When Yoichi asked, he said, "Surely they have them for a reason."
René frowned as a sudden thought came into his head. He set down everything and walked over with the rose. He stopped in front of Mikaela. Mikaela looked up. Curious. Innocent. He looked like a child.
René crouched down and wordlessly offered him the rose. Confused, Mikaela took the rose with both hands, carefully avoiding the thorns. René bit his tongue and grabbed Mikaela's hands. He pressed them together. Mikaela sucked in a sharp breath and flinched.
"R-René!" He gasped out.
René stopped, he looked down. He let go of Mikaela's hands. Mikaela dropped the broken rose with a small whimper. René knew without looking. It smelt like blood.
Mikaela was panting. Fast and heavily. He was scared, René knew that.
The words died in Rene's throat.
"You're dying."
René would be there for the storm. The storm approached. René made preparations. His chest ached. He was ready.
liar liar pants on f—
Vampires, in a sense, are immortal.
René has set a timer.
A/N
A peek into Rene's head. I liked doing this so there might be more in the future.