Author Note: I'm a little unhappy with this. It seems dull and hurried, but I dunno. I feel like I should at least put something up here every once in a while. Not everything has to be a masterpiece, anyways.
Disclaimer: Godchild's still not mine, nor will it ever be. Insert teardrop here
Care for a Walk?
"Master Cain, it's a beautiful spring day outside... perhaps you would want to go for a walk through the garden?"
Riff had been collecting the courage to ask his master for a little stroll in the garden for ages. Why it took so long, he didn't know. It seemed odd to Riff for a servant to ask his master to go on a walk with him, but perhaps Cain wouldn't think it so odd? Either way, the offer was out there, at least.
"Maybe later," Cain mumbled, engulfed in his newest book of poisons. Straight in from the bookshop. Couldn't just let it sit there, you know. "Ask me again in the evening or something."
With a nod and a slight look of disappointment, Riff exited the room and left his master to his studies. 'All that for nothing,' he thought to himself. There was always evening, though. Scooping up some hope from the grounds of disappointment, he made his way to the kitchen to busy himself with something.
It wasn't that he was in love with his master or anything, dear no, not something so scandalous. He just... wanted to be a bit more than just his master's butler. True, he was held in a place above the other maids of the house, and Cain did trust him more than anyone else... it was just seeing all those people in town looking so happy all the time; all shopping together, going to picnics together, laughing together... Riff took note of the frequent use of the word "together" that seemed to be the newest trend in his thought pattern.
After scrubbing down every inch of the kitchen, Riff sighed and sat himself down on the dark, velvet sofa with a cup of tea and The Fall of the House of Usher, which he had been reading earlier, and began reading from where he had left off.
"One of the phantasmagoric conceptions of my friend, partaking not so rigidly of the spirit of abstraction, may be shadowed forth, although feebly, in words. A small picture presented the interior of an immensely long and rectangular vault or tunnel, with low walls, smooth, white, and..."
... And dull. Riff shut the book, thoroughly bored, and glanced up at the clock. Hm, was six o'clock considered evening? The sun was already beginning to set... it would probably be getting chilly soon. Even though it was getting to be spring, the nights could still be cold and bitter... like his tea had gotten.
Setting out to try one last time before the day was done, Riff stood and made his way for his master's room. It was at least worth another shot. Plus, Cain did say to ask him again later...
"Master Cain?" Riff said while knocking, "May I come in?"
No response.
"Are you there, Master Cain?" Riff asked again, opening the door. The room was empty. Riff began walking back down the stairs disappointedly. Maybe he could wash the dishes over again, or maybe Maryweather would want someone to share tea and cookies with...
As Riff reached the bottom of the stairs, he saw Cain waiting at the door with his coat and hat on.
"How about that walk, Riff?" he said with a sly smile, "If we go now, we can watch the sun set. Now, won't that be romantic?"
Riff just smiled one of his rare smiles and nodded. 'Romantic indeed, Master Cain.'