Living in Dres Van

Again, a Joshua drabbles. This time is from Joshua's POV again. Once again, sorry for the grammar mistakes and lame idea.

Disclaimer: I don't own Be My Princess. Voltage does.


Part 3: Apology

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It's not my fault at all. No.

I glance my fiancee for the seventh time today and sigh. Two hours. She's been sat in there for two hours without looking at me. I'm always thought (without admit it to anyone, of course) that I am the stubborn one in our relationship but at this very moment, the role reversed.

It started when she came to my office after lunch time. With a big grin on her face, she sat in front of me and put a white box on the desk.

"What is this?"

"Cake."

"Cake? For what occasion?"

She pouted after hearing my question. "Cake is not only for special occasion, you know." That's true, but still... it's unusual for her to bring me a cake in random like 's the type who like to preserve special things for special occasion, like her decision to not wearing a white dress before our marriage. Don't blame me to question her now because in Shiho's dictionary, cake is for birthday, Christmas, and Valentine's day. She never had a single cake outside those occasions and parties.

I thought all of those things while staring at the cake suspiciously. "Try it!" she exclaimed happily while setting the cake in front of me. Where did she take all the tableware from?! I know she didn't bring those while entering my office!

Feeling pressured from her stares, I took the fork and ate a small bite from the dark chocolate cake.

"How does it taste?" She asked a little bit too eagerly.

I was choking five seconds after that.

'What is this?!'

She panicked and ran outside the door, brought a glass of water to me. I drank the water greedily and glared at the panicked girl in front of me. "What is the hideous thing that you call cake?" I asked as calm as I could. Her expression changed immediately.

"Was... was it that bad?" she asked quitely. There was something on her eyes but at that time I didn't know what is that. I filled with the feeling of disgust for the beautiful but deceiving thing she gave to me.

And that was the time I heard a chocked breath from her.

"A, actually that was my practiced cake for valentine. I know that I'm bad at baking so I asked the chef to let me use a little corner in the kitchen for practicing since a few weeks ago. I, I think it was okay... at least from my earlier experiments. So it was that bad, huh..." her last sentence just came as whisper but I still can hear her.

She looked at me for a second and I just realized that it was ghost of tears I saw earlier.

Before I said anything else, she dashed outside, took the remaining of the cake with her.

Oh, for heaven's sake!

I followed her and knew from the maids that she was running to her room. But when I knocked her door, opened it without her permission, and sat on the sofa near the door, she never respond.

As I said before, this is not my fault. Absolutely not. So why does she act this stubborn? She's the one who brought the cake and asked my opinion of it. I was merely stated my honest opinion.

... Okay, I admit it, it was my fault. It's natural for her to get hurt by my harsh comment of her creation. If I knew it was the cake she made, I would never said those words. Hell, even if she made an entire burnt cake, I will eat them all and say that it is the most delicious cake in the world.

Now she sits while turning her head from me. Thankfully, I don't hear sniffles or sobs from her. I hate it when she cries. But again, remembering the mist on her eyes before, the absence of tears shown that her sadness is beyond of that.

I see her folded hands in the table and gasps. They're full of bandage and small scars, seems likely from cutting. My heart aches. She hurts her self for my sake and all I said to her can be interpreted as belittling her hard efforts. I'm the worst. How can I make it up to her?

I walk to her quitely, bend my knees before her, and take her hands. When she makes no effort to stop me, I kiss all the scars in her porcelain white palms tenderly. No word comes from my lips but in each kiss, I whisper my feelings to her in my heart.

I'm sorry.

Forgive me.

I love you.

Suddenly, she takes her hands from my graps slowly and I feel her arms encircling my neck. I hug her waist and at the moment I know she understand.

I know she understand my way of apology without words.