Since that day, they have been frequently spending time together. Going to concerts, riding horses at the countryside, strolling at the park and having lunch together. Just after a few months they seem to be very close with each other.
"My father," Madeline said, as they walked together in an orchard, "was a high ranking military personnel. He received orders directly from His Majesty King of France, before the unification." They sat on a bench. She drew a deep breath and continued, "I'm not sure why, but a while after the unification he requested an early retirement. I was worried because he seemed quite depressed and stressed out after he quit. Then he established this textile company he runs until now," Her face grew sad a bit. "As for my mother," she sighed, "she died before I can remember her face. It doesn't really matter now. I'll be fine as long as I have my father." She smiled.
'That was what I thought too,' Alfred thought to himself, 'until your father took him from me.'
"How about your family?" she asked, "If you don't mind telling me, that is." Alfred put up a convincing fake smile. "No, not at all. My father runs an import export company. His main branch is in New York, but he has network all over America and Europe. After he passed away his will stated that I am to be the one to inherit all his asset. Which means I was supposed to be the owner of his company." He sighed, "But seeing that I'm not nearly as experienced enough, I left his company to his right hand man while I go here to manage his branch in London."
'Madeline is a good friend,' he thought, 'how I wish to be able to tell her about my real father.' "My mother was a teacher in her youth. That's why she insisted I learn about many different things such as several different languages, history, culture, science and so on. I'm grateful for that, though." He scratched the top of his head, grinning.
Madeline turned her head and cursed under her breath. 'Why does he have to be so damn gorgeous,' she thought, hiding her red cheeks. 'That careless, goofy grin, the bright, expressive, enthusiastic blue eyes, that messy blonde hair,' "Are you alright there, Maddie?" "Huh? Oh, y-y-yes!" She couldn't believe she's stuttering now of all times, "yes, I'm fine." Then she realized something, "Wait, what did you just call me?"
Alfred raised one eyebrow, still grinning. "Maddie. I think now that we've been quite close we can stop calling each other by our family names. I think Madeline is pretty, but Maddie seems easier to say and sounds cuter, don't you think? You can call me anything you like. Oh, but if you don't like it I won't call you that," Alfred said quickly, a tint of pink slightly visible on his cheeks. "Umm, w-w-well, I don't mind, actually," she said, feeling her face grew hotter.
Trying to change the subject, she rose from the bench. "Well then, Alfred," she smiled, "it's getting pretty hot here. Do you want to get some ice cream?" "Yeah!" he replied cheerily, "let's go! I know a new place that just opened, and they say the ice cream there is great."
.
"Welcome home, Sir Jones," a maid greeted him at the front door and took his coat. "Would you like to have dinner now?" "No, I ate already. I'll be going to bed now, so don't disturb me." "Certainly, Sir." She bowed slightly and left.
He entered his room but left the lights off. He let himself fall on the bed, facing the ceiling. He swung his right arm and placed it over his eyes, and sighed. "Damn it," he mumbled to himself, "What on earth have I done," He sighed again, this time longer and heavier. In his mind is only one thing; Madeline. He found himself loving the way she laughs, the way she scolds him, her voice, the way her eyes glow, the way she walk, the way her hair flows in the breeze, and the way her cheeks blush when he teases her.
He hates only one thing about her. And that is how she made his heart pounding uncontrollably when she did any of the things he loved about her.
He sighed again. With a grunt he turned so he lies on his belly and pulled a pillow under his chest, clutching it tightly. He tossed his glasses aside on the bed and buried his face in the pillow. "Oh Dad," he mumbled, "What do I do now?" With that he slowly drifted to a deep slumber, still thinking of her, and only her.