Pandora Hearts - ah, I shall always write something for this fandom. :3
I
...
He is a quiet young man. Hunched shoulders and a gaunt face that shows he has lived far away from the lords and ladies of her own world. Her mother whispers to her, "Be kind to him, darling. The poor boy has been through a lot."
Sharon is naive, though.
What can make someone look so broken?
When he glances at her, his bandage swings like pedulum from his haunted face.
Back and forth... back and forth... back and for-
She steps back — regretting it when he looks away.
II
...
The second time, her mother visits him again. She speaks softly to him. He looks like someone who wouldn't care to listen to anyone ever. But he does. Respectfully, he listens to her mother as she speaks of nonsense around town.
He glances at her while she is fiddling with her skirt and sneaking glances at his state of ruin and Sharon freezes.
The bandage is wrapped carefully around his head today.
It's less intimidating and she doesn't step back. She looks straight into his eye — curiously, faintly awkward — and she doesn't feel so bad when he looks away this time.
III
...
The third time, she's carrying a small packet of daisies and pretty flowers. One of the servants tries to take them away (madame sharon! those are weeds! — they are flowers, robert! right, mother? — yes, of course) she stubbornly keeps them by her side.
As her mother walks into the room, Sharon follows close behind. While her mother talks, she sneaks in around her and catches his eye. Of course, he is still nodding along to her mother but he keeps a watchful eye on her.
When it's time for them to leave, she darts forwards to place the flowers on his lap and with childish glee, she watches him touch the silver hair ribbon and tangled net of wilted greens in faint surprise.
Her mother places a hand on her shoulder, guiding her to the door.
Sharon twists around to glance at him.
His hands are shaking as he stares down at the flowers in his lap. He doesn't look happy. It looks like he is reliving some sad memory.
Sharon frowns
IIII
...
The fourth time, Sharon feels very awkward during this next meeting. He hadn't liked the flowers before. That was embarrasing. She doesn't deny that she feels crestfallen over the fact. Oh, she tried.
So, she sits on the couch next to her mother. The cackling of the fire gives her plenty of imagination to distract herself. She starts to fantasize about dragons, princess and fairy-tales. The fire adds perfect realism to her mental stage and the gentle sound of her mother's soft voice slowly fades away.
That's why she jumps at the sense of her mother tapping her shoulder. "I'll be right back, darling." Her voice is musically light — amused — and Sharon flushes. Then she stiffens. Her mother is leaving the room and she's alone with... him
The fireplace cackles.
There is a rustle of movement in front of her and her heart stops.
But he has knelted down in front of her; he's smiling.
"Hello."
Faintly, she makes note that he has a pretty smile. "...Hello."
Her gaze falls down to his hand — a silver hair ribbon is wrapped around his hand and he untangles it. "Lady Sharon, is it?"
She flushes for the second time that night. Only the servants call her Lady Sharon. It makes her feel like a young lady. Silently, he holds out his hand. It takes a moment for her to remember her manners, she places her hand in his. With quick flourish, he ties the ribbon around her wrist.
It flickers with reflection from the flames.
And it's the first time Sharon shares a small smile with this stranger.
"Thank you..." He says — Sharon feels pride burst in her chest — but he finishes, dryly amused, "For the weeds, m'lady."
Sharon scowls. They. Were. Flowers.
He laughs.