Tonight is her birthday
He stands in a room lit by two candles. One standing on a small table next to his preferred for reading in the evenings. With it lies the book he is currently reading when relaxing. The other candle is on a desk, to the left of the chair, turned towards the wall. The desk is filled with papers and books in archaic languages. Should a human stumble onto these books, and somehow decode the language, he would not understand it's contents for they are of a world he doesn't know. You would think the candle and papers would be a fire hazard but the man is not worried. With a wave of his hand everything would be safe. Over the years he has learned many things and something as insignificant as fire is no longer a cause for concern. He is powerful. No longer is he the boy, who was unsure of his own capabilities and had to rely on others. The candles flicker lively, but their light does not reach the corner in which he stands.
In his hand he holds a crystal glass. In it is a golden liquid. He takes a sip and feels it burn down through his throat and to his stomach. He looks out the glassdoors out onto a grassy garden area. Often students will be out their making noise, playing games or other, much to his annoyance. Now it is quiet, the students long ago having returned to their rooms for the night. Usually there is a peace to it, but tonight there is no peace, not for him.
Tonight is her birthday. She would have turned 29. She never got to leave her teenage years, forever caught between a child and an adult. I should have protected her. I should have saved her.
These are some of the thoughts going through his mind. They rip at his soul making him wish to scream in pain, just for the chance of a moment of relief. But he doesn't. Not anymore. He is an adult with responsibilities and a busy schedule. He cannot afford to let go. If he does it will all fall apart around him. And he is undeserving. He can never make amends and thus he deserves no peace. His superior has admonished him for these thoughts multiple times. She thinks that he should move forward, live again, let people in but what does she know. A woman who has gone from one marriage to the other with an ease that astounds him. He does not think her uncaring, just very free spirited. How could such a person understand his feelings on this matter He is a man who has learned not to love easily because people either have ulterior motives or will leave you in a world of pain. He is a man who cares rarely and loves almost never. She was the one exception. When she smiled he felt like he could do anything, like the pain of the past no longer mattered. She gave him everything and all he had to do was make her happy and keep her safe. He failed her.
The man no longer flinches from these thoughts. More than 8 years have passed and the pain has become an accepted part of him. All he does is take another sip of whiskey. This night is a ritual. A night where he allows himself to dwell on the past. It enshrouds him like a cape, unrelenting like the night but comforting in a the way only memories can be. Pain and pleasure as one. Never would he give up the pain because it is the only thing he has left of her. He will hold it close until his last day.
A knock on the door. This late he should be alone. No one has a reason to look for him now. No, there is one.
Another knock "Hieronymous?" A tentative voice calls out. It is barely louder than a whisper but to him it rings clear as a bell. He goes to the door, hesitates for a moment before opening the door. Immediately he squeezes his eyes shut. In comparison to the barely lit room he came from the light the girl is holding is unbearable.
"Oh, I'm sorry" she says quicky and fumbles to turn down the light of her spell. Usually it would barely take a thought but she seems unsure and nervous. It makes him wonder why she is here. As she returns her focus to him she seems unsure as to what to do with herself, fidgeting and looking everywhere but in his eyes.
She finally seems to find her voice and says "Um I'm sorry for waking you.."
"I was not sleeping" he says, his voice gruff from disuse. The fact that he is still wearing his uniform should have made that clear.
"Oh, um, good. I mean, not that you couldn't sleep but that I didn't wake you…" her voice trails off as she keeps falling over her words. He sighs. She usually wasn't so nervous around him anymore and he had come to enjoy the ease in which she spoke to him.
"Emily, what are you doing here? It is in the middle of the night and you should be in your bed and not walking around in the teachers' sleeping hall" he growls at her. He is in a terrible mood and has no patience. Not tonight. She looks up at him surprised by his sudden bark, but not scared, before looking away again.
"Oh, um, yes of cause. It's just that i had a nightmare and couldn't sleep and I didn't want to just lie in bed and stare at the roof or risk waking my roommates by turning on the lights or.." and her voice trails off again. He doesn't bark at her again seeing that she needs a moment to collect her thoughts and feeling bad for taking out his foul mood on her. She doesn't deserve that.
"Um, so I was wondering if you might want to go for a walk with me or something.." the last bit is said so quietly that he can barely hear her, but with her invitation he understands. That impossible woman he calls his superior had told the girl what day it is. No secret could truly be kept from her, but he had hoped she would not tell anyone else. But she had told his wife. And now she is standing outside his room telling a terribly constructed lie with no confidence in an effort to comfort him and give him company. Because she cares for him. He should be angry but he is not. Not at this young girl, who believes him better than he is. And he knows that should he send her away now, she would only lie awake worrying for him. He sighs once more.
"Fine" he walks out the door and together they walk out into the dark gardens. There is a peaceful quiet out here tonight.