A/N: I don't have much to say about this chapter, accept that I really enjoyed writing it and I hope you enjoy reading it. And I believe it's a chapter a lot of you have been waiting for. ^.^ Please leave a review if you enjoyed it!
Chapter Seven
Beatrice woke up and heavily sighed. She wasn't feeling like her self of late. Ever since the series of unfortunate events took place she felt sorrowful and depressed, and she longed for her spunky attitude and cheerful nature to return. She was beginning to feel like she was losing herself, lost in a deep abyss she couldn't crawl out of.
She looked over to her bedside table and smiled. Perhaps he can help me find myself again. The yellow roses were beginning to wilt, though, and she felt as if she was wilting with them. She missed Mistel: his smile, his violet eyes, his teasing; she had never missed anyone so much in her entire life. The past week all she could bring herself to do were her farm chores, then she would go back into her home and reread her favorite book for the hundredth time until she fell asleep.
After changing and brushing out her long chocolate colored hair and pulling it back into a ponytail she walked outside, and was relieved that it wasn't snowing today. She opened her mailbox, expecting there to just be a letter from one of the vendors telling her that they had new items in stock, and was shocked to see there was a letter from Klaus. She rolled her eyes then began to read.
Dear Bee,
I hope all is well. The townspeople have began to worry about you.
It has been nearly over a week since anyone last saw you, are
you all right? If you are free I would like to have coffee with you
today, if that is of convenience to you, of course. If not I need to
speak to you soon, so please come by my home around ten
whenever you are free. We all miss you and are terribly
worried about you. Please do come by as soon as possible.
Sincerely,
Klaus
Beatrice sighed again and shook her head. Of course everyone was worried about her, she always visited them everyday to chat and present them with a gift. She felt sick to her stomach thinking about how much Mistel must have been worrying about her. Or perhaps he isn't worrying about me at all; perhaps he has moved on—as he should after what I've put him through. She felt her heart clench at the thought. He had been so kind to her when Madam Eda passed. If she was unsure of her feelings before that she was positive of them now.
Iris was right, he did fill her stomach with butterflies and made her weak in the knees. She wished she knew how to speak french; she wanted so badly to know what they had been saying. She caught a few words here and there. She had heard her name and knew how to say "I love you" in french, but that was all. The rest she had just used context clues to understand their conversation.
Mistel had been angry with Iris for pretty much telling her that he was in love with her, but she already knew that, so why Mistel had been so enraged was hard for her to comprehend. She had been pretty shocked when Mistel sounded so bitter when she wanted to sleep on the sofa. She just didn't want Klaus to scold her again and thought it would be inappropriate to sleep in bed next to him once more. She was relieved when he allowed her to sleep next to him after refusing his proposal before. She just couldn't get comfortable on the sofa, and really wanted his warmth to comfort her in her sleep.
It had worked, and very well. Though when she had awoken she felt embarrassed, and quickly changed into her farming dress and left. Mistel seemed very upset that she hadn't stayed for breakfast, but she just couldn't get herself to stay. She was embarrassed by how she acted when sleeping next to him; entwining her legs with his and putting her hand up his shirt. Why in the world did I do that? She knew why she had done it, and it wasn't because she wanted to warm up her hands. She wanted to feel how soft his skin was and wanted to be as close to him as possible.
It was a mistake, though, and in the morning made her cheeks flare thinking about what she had done. They weren't lovers yet, and she had almost given him a heart attack; she could feel his heart rate accelerate by the contact. She usually wasn't so timid when it came to such things but with him...it felt different. Only he had this effect on her. She wondered wistfully if she had such an effect on him. She had only ever seen him blush a handful of times, but thought perhaps that blushing wasn't his way of showing embarrassment or being uncomfortable—she had a feeling it was his heart that showed such things, since it always beat so rapidly whenever they touched.
Beatrice looked down at her watch and gasped, realizing she had slept in again—it was nearly eight o'clock! She didn't want to worry anyone any further, so she would make sure to see Klaus today, then afterward she would visit Mistel. She couldn't very well just see Klaus without visiting Mistel as well. He would surely hear about it and she knew it would upset him, and she never wanted to upset him again.
She quickly took care of her animals, feeding and brushing them hastily; milking her cows and shearing her sheep, then collecting the eggs her chickens had laid for her. She would water her crops later, she needed to get to Klaus's house by ten.
Standing outside her barn, she whistled for her horse, Edgar, and he eagerly galloped over to her. She pat his mane for a second before mounting him, then gave him a small kick. Edgar galloped faster off her property and they quickly made their way down the mountain trail, and she soon found herself out front of Klaus's home.
She dismounted Edgar and took a deep breath. She wasn't exactly sure what Klaus wanted to speak to her about, but she knew the conversation wasn't going to be all pleasant. She pulled her ponytail around her shoulder and nervously ran her hands through her silken strands. After a moment she knocked two times on Klaus's door and heard him say flatly, "Come in."
Beatrice slowly opened the door and shut it behind her, then quietly approached Klaus, who was sitting at his work station.
He turned his head slightly and said in a low tone, "Please take a seat on the sofa, I'll be with you momentarily."
She nearly gasped at the sight of him. He looked awful: his face gaunt with dark bags under his eyes—as if he hasn't slept much in the past few days—his face unshaven, and his normally disheveled ebony locks even more in a disarray than usual.
Beatrice walked over to his dining area, not in a skipping mood today, and carefully tucked her dress underneath her as she sat. She twiddled her thumbs as she waited for Klaus to finish with his work. She began to ponder about why he looked so awful. She knew it had little to do with him worrying about her. Although he thought of her as a little sister she knew he wouldn't look so awful just over worrying about her. It must have been about him and Iris fighting—she just didn't understand why he couldn't commit to her. If he just confessed his true feelings then they wouldn't have to have this problem.
She gave a slight jump when Klaus appeared from his bedroom. He didn't even look at her as he went over to his kitchen and made coffee. He turned his head slightly and asked, "Would you like some?"
"Tea, if you have it. I don't really care for coffee all that much."
Klaus gave a slight nod and put his kettle on the stove, igniting the burner. Klaus stood there, waiting, instead of coming back to talk to her while the coffee and tea were being made. He was really in an awful place right now.
After about five minutes Klaus walked over with a tray in hand that had a teacup and a mug on it, putting the tray on the dining table and sitting down opposite of her. He narrowed his eyes slightly and said, "Beatrice, I heard you slept next to Mistel again last week. As you very well know I think of you as a younger sister, and I intend to look out for you. You have quite a lot of siblings, correct?"
She rolled her ruby eyes. He only ever called her Beatrice when he was angry with her. She took a sip of her tea—English breakfast, her favorite—and said simply, "Yes, I have three brothers and two sisters, me being the youngest—and please do not call me Beatrice in front of Mistel, he would have a fit."
"Then I will look after you for them since they are not here. Why did you sleep next to him again? You're so young, so naïve. He could have touched you while you were sleeping," Klaus said in distaste.
Beatrice laughed loudly. "If anything you should be worried about me touching him while he slept. I may be young and naïve, but I'm not as virtuous as you think I am."
"Explain," Klaus nearly growled.
She felt her cheeks turn red. If he really wanted to know about her past boyfriends then she would tell him, and she had no doubt she would embarrass him by what she was about to say. She felt her lips twitch into a crooked smile and said boldly, "I had two boyfriends before coming here. I didn't love either of them, they were fools but they were handsome, and my raging teenage hormones wanted them. We didn't talk much because they never had anything interesting to say. They approached me, but don't get the wrong idea, I was in control. They were quite smitten with me, especially the last one. I think he may have loved me, but I can't be sure. I would sneak them into my bedroom at night and have my way with them.
"You look so shocked! Yes, I had my way with them, not the other way around. Once I was done with them I would throw them to the curb. The first one was awful in bed, we didn't see each other for very long. The second one was a little better, so I stayed with him a little longer. I do regret now having sex with them, I should have waited until I was in love, but I suppose the past cannot be changed. Yet I have changed... I still have raging hormones, but I have them in check now—except for my one slip-up with Fritz, which I still feel so awful about. I no longer want to sleep with boys and throw them to the side once I get bored of them. I want to be in love, and I want to be loved back. I want romance and dates and sweet kisses under the stars.
"You should see the look on your face right now! What, were you expecting me to be a virgin?" She quirked an eyebrow and gave a shy giggle. Klaus looked absolutely shocked, as if his head might explode.
"Beatrice!" Klaus exclaimed, his whole face turning bright scarlet. "So behind that innocent face lies a seductress?"
"Not anymore, Klaus. I've changed. Like I said, I want to be in love and I want to be loved back—and if I start dating anyone I won't sleep with them right away, even if every cell in my body is telling me to. I want a sweet courtship, not a lustful one," she replied.
"I'm glad to hear you have changed your ways. One of the reasons I wanted to speak to you about has to do with Mistel—Iris insisted I have this talk with you," he said, sighing loudly. "She wanted to make sure you weren't going to 'have your way with him and throw him to the curb'—as you put it. I suppose she suspected that you weren't as virtuous as you look."
"I would never do that to Mistel! I—I...," she trailed, feeling her whole face heat up.
"You love him," Klaus said frankly, taking a sip of his coffee.
"I do," Beatrice said softly. "I love him so much it hurts... I'm just so scared. I'm scared I'll get hurt or hurt him..."
"With love there are always risks, Bee, but if you love him so much it's worth it. Trust me about that," Klaus said a little mournfully.
She sighed. He was right. She had read enough love stories to know the risks that being in love brings, and by the way Klaus looked she knew he was feeling the risks that came with love. "Klaus..." she said hesitatingly. "You look downright awful, as if you haven't slept in days. What's going on with you and Iris?"
"We're fighting..." he returned in a low tone.
"About what?" Beatrice asked, cocking her head to the side.
"She wants me to commit to her, but I don't think I can do that."
"Why not?" she snapped, furrowing her brows as she glared at him.
"I, too, have regrets. I did awful things when I was in my early twenties, and I fear she will no longer love me if she knew what I have done," Klaus said sadly, hanging his head.
"You never know until you tell her. She loves you, surely she will forgive you for your past mistakes," Beatrice said in a soothing tone. "You do love her too, right?"
"Yes, I love her more than anyone I've ever been with before. How can I not? She's so beautiful, so intelligent. She makes me laugh on even the worst of days," Klaus said, his golden eyes sparkling. "Are you sure she will forgive me for my past mistakes? I cannot bear the thought of her leaving me because of them, which is why I am so reluctant to commit to her fully."
"She'll forgive you, I'm sure of it," Beatrice said with a smile. "She may be a little angry with you, but like I said, you can't change the past. She knows that."
"Thank you, Bee. Now I have a lot to think about..."
"I must be going now," Beatrice said as she stood, "but think long and hard. Take a couple of weeks if you need to, just don't break her heart. I fear Mistel will pick a fight with you if you do."
Klaus gave a feigned smile and said, "I'm sure he would."
"I shall see you later, Klaus. Farewell," Beatrice called as she walked to his door. She looked over her shoulder and said, "When you're ready, bring silver and a pink diamond to my house—I'll help you craft her a ring. Pink diamonds are Iris's favorite gem, you know?"
Klaus laughed, a good genuine laugh. He was starting to look a little better. "I didn't know that, but thank you for telling me—I'll make sure to do that when the time is right. Good-bye, Bee."
She gave a quick wave before leaving his home. Her conversation with Klaus put her in a better mood, and she skipped over to the antique shop with Edgar trailing close behind her. As soon as she reached the door a lump formed in her throat, and she began to tremble to the very ends of her fingertips. She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths, then tentatively knocked on the door two times.
Beatrice slowly opened the door and walked past the threshold, closing the door behind her. When she turned around she was slightly shocked to see Mistel standing in front of his counter; his arms causally behind his back as usual, but this time they were concealing something.
"Hello, Beatrice," Mistel said cheerfully, beaming at her, "What is it? Have you come to see me? Or could you somehow tell that I have something I want to discuss with you?"
Before she even knew what she was doing she sprang herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing every inch of his face except his lips. She quickly released him and took a step back, her cheeks flushing. She said timidly, "I've missed you..."
The atmosphere in the room seemed to shift, as if there was an electric current running throughout the room—she could nearly feel it in her veins. He stared at her in silent stupor for a few moments, his violet eyes widening while he gaped at her. He shook his head and emoted, "I can tell! I have missed you dearly, as well. You must've been quite busy with your new land...and I'm sure you needed time to mourn, otherwise I would have came to see you. How are you feeling as of late? You dashed away so quickly last week I didn't have time to ask how you were feeling."
"To be honest, I was rather upset... I couldn't leave my farm," she trailed, hanging her head. She looked back up at him and smiled sweetly, feeling a spark as their eyes met. "Now that I've seen you, I'm feeling much better."
"Wonderful," he said, beaming at her again. "I'm happy that I have that effect on you."
Beatrice felt her blush deepen, and said teasingly, "I believe you said you have something you wish to discuss with me?"
"Oh, erm, yes," Mistel said, shuffling his feet and looking to the floor for a moment. When he looked back up at her his face regained its usual demure expression. He said earnestly, "Yes, there is something very important I would like to talk about. Here isn't the most appropriate of places, however. Let's go somewhere else. Please, come with me." He gave her a crooked smile and said, "But first I would like to give you these."
With one quick movement he brought one hand from behind his back revealing what he was concealing: a bouquet of yellow roses. Beatrice gasped and put a hand over mouth. "Are you sure? How did you get them again? They must have cost a fortune!"
"What am I to do with these? I bought them for you, after all," Mistel returned with a mischievous smirk, but she noticed his hand trembled around the bouquet. "Giorgio had some left over from fall, so I bought the rest from him. Money is of no object to me, Beatrice," he added.
"I-if you insist," she stammered, blushing scarlet. Mistel took a long stride toward her, closing the space between them, and handed her the bouquet. The electric current seemed to intensify by his closeness, sizzling and sparking around them. She idly wondered if he could feel it too. She put the roses up to her nose and inhaled deeply. The smell was her third favorite scent, her second being old books, and her first being herb tea mixed with the scent of old books—the intoxicating aroma of Mistel. "Thank you, Mistel. The other ones were beginning to wilt. It was very kind of you to do that for me, but then again you are always so kind to me."
"Let's be off, shall we?" Mistel attempted to say frankly, but his voice quivered slightly.
He offered her his hand and she took it with her free hand, immediately linking her fingers with his. Mistel eagerly pulled her out the door and toward the eastern steps, and she wondered, "What would you like to talk to me about?"
He looked over his shoulder and gave her a lopsided smile, frankly saying, "Patience, Beatrice. We'll be there in only a moment."
She shook her head in confusion but continued to allow him to pull her nonetheless. What is so important that he can't speak to me about it in his own home? She began to feel nervous, and wished she had an extra arm so she could run her hands through her hair—a nervous habit she had picked up when she was barely eight.
Mistel led her to the Piedmont area and kept pulling her until they were in the middle of the bridge. He let go of her hand and took a step back. She instantly pulled her ponytail over her shoulder and started to frantically run her free hand through her chocolate colored hair. She felt her heart rate accelerate as she waited for him to speak.
Mistel firmly clasped his hands behind his back, then let out a little sigh. He closed his eyes with a ghost of a smile on his lips and said simply, "Beating around the bush will just lead to misunderstandings, so let me be direct." He opened his violet eyes and his met her ruby ones with a noticeable spark, one she was certain he could feel despite his neutral expression. He blinked a few times then said matter-of-factly, "Beatrice, I am in love with you."
Beatrice gasped loudly, releasing her hand from her hair and holding the bouquet with both hands close to her chest. So this is why he wanted to speak to me here?
He blinked a few more times and continued on in his demure tone, "I don't think I could stand seeing you date someone else. I can barely tolerate even the thought of it!" He winced for a split second, as if recalling the memory in which he saw her and Fritz together. "So...would you go out with me? Please, allow me the privilege of keeping you to myself."
Beatrice looked around frantically, her head spinning with emotions she wasn't sure what to do with. She loved him, yes, but she didn't want to hurt him—and she just knew she would eventually. "Mistel... I'm sorry," she whispered, looking down at the bridge for a second.
Mistel averted his eyes and pouted slightly, looking so sad it nearly broke her heart. He said solemnly, "Oh... I see."
Beatrice felt tears well up in her eyes and nearly started to sob; how could she explain to him that she loved him too much to date him, that she just knew she would break his heart?"
Mistel quickly composed himself and smiled at her so brightly she felt her heart skip a beat. "No, no, it's all right! Please don't give me that sad look. You are so much more beautiful when you smile.
"I'm sorry for springing such an awkward subject on you so suddenly. Please just forget this whole conversation ever happened," he attempted to say simply, but she could hear the pain in his voice. His face regained it's neutral expression and he said a little lamentably, "Now then, if you will pardon me, I must be going. Good-bye, Beatrice."
She felt as if her whole world was crashing down around her. He made a move to walk off the bridge and she nearly shouted, "No, wait!"
His eyes widened as he said a little bitterly, "What is it, Beatrice? I must get back to the shop now."
"I—I never said I didn't love you, I only said I was sorry," she murmured. "I am in love with you. I love you so much it hurts. I cannot bear the thought of you being with another!"
"Then what is all this fuss about?" he asked, slightly angered.
"I'm just scared that I'll hurt you again," Beatrice said sorrowfully.
"Goodness, don't be ridiculous!" Mistel laughed, and it was like music to her ears. "There are always risks, Beatrice, but if you truly love me then don't let them get in between us."
"You're correct, as always," she sighed. "I truly do love you."
Mistel grinned so large she feared he might split his face. "You do realize that, by saying you truly love me, you agree to become mine. And in return, I will become yours. You were, I assume, aware of that before you stopped me from walking off this bridge and confessing your true feelings for me, no?"
Beatrice quickly nodded her head.
Mistel beamed again and giggled, "...I see. Well, as long as you're aware of the 'fine print', so to speak, then I've no reason in the world to deny our love for each other. Though I must admit, I had no intention of humoring any notions you may have had to reconsider."
Fine print? What in the world is that suppose to mean? "Fine print?!" Beatrice hissed through clenched teeth, holding onto the bouquet for dear life, "What do you mean by 'fine print?' That sounds as if you'd like to tie me up! Do I have to sign a contract or something?!"
Mistel looked to the bridge while his face turned bright red in embarrassed, shuffling his feet while he said, "I did not mean it like that, Beatrice. I only meant that by agreeing to become mine that you are mine and mine alone, and that I am yours and yours alone. And that... I intend to marry you one day."
"O-oh," she sighed in relief, then felt her own cheeks flare in embarrassment. "I'm so sorry, the way you said it it sounded...very strange. My apologies." She felt her lips twitch up into a mischievous smirk and added, "By the way, if anyone is getting tied up it will be you."
Mistel looked back into her eyes, his flush fading, and waved her off with a gesture of his hand. "A simple misunderstanding, please do not apologize for that." He gave her a mischievous smirk back and said softly,"I'd like that."'I'd like that?' Is he being serious? She nearly blushed even thinking about him in such a way. After a moment and an electrifying prolonged gaze Mistel said, "Can I hear it once more, though? You do love me?"
"Yes, Mistel, I am deeply, painfully in love with you," Beatrice reassured him in a low tone, involuntarily fluttering her lush lashes at him.
Mistel smiled, and his usual calculating eyes warmed, his whole face softening; the most adorable blush adorning his face while his entire body seemed to relax. He lovingly said, "Thank you, Beatrice. I promise I will treat you more preciously than anyone...or anything in the world."
She nearly melted under his loving gaze, and he pulled a ring out of his pocket; holding it out and presenting it to her. "I hope you like it," he said a bit hesitatingly. "I wasn't sure which gem to pick, so I just picked an amethyst on a whim; hence the violet ring."
Beatrice held the bouquet in one hand and held out her dainty hand, hoping the ring was small enough to fit around her tiny finger. Mistel slid the ring onto her finger and sighed in relief; apparently he was having the same doubts about it fitting. "So this is why your hands were injured?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow.
He nodded his head and smiled. "So, do you like it?"
"Like it?! I love it!" Beatrice gushed, moving her hand to and fro to see the gem sparkle. "It's dazzling, just like your eyes. It will be like carrying around with me a little part of you everywhere I go."
Mistel beamed so brightly it put the sun to shame, looking quite pleased with himself. He said mirthfully, "We are hereby officially lovers. I will never let you go now, even if you want me to. That, my dear, is how this works." She felt her heart skip not one, but two beats by his words, her cheeks turning a deep shade of pink. How many times is he going to make me blush today?
"Ah, I know! As this is a special occasion, perhaps we should give each other new nicknames. I'm sure that will help the reality of this wonderful new arrangement sink in all the faster," Mistel said with the bright smile still plastered on his face. "What would you like me to call you? Have you anything in particular in mind?"
"Well, since you're the only one who calls me Beatrice, why don't we keep it the same as always?"
Mistel giggled and said, "You're right, we have always shared that little intimacy. So I will continue to call you Beatrice, and if I hear any of the other boys in town calling you that I will have to remind them that is what I call you, and that it is my lover's name for you. Now what are you to call me?"
"I... I don't know. What would you like for me to call you?" she asked timidly, giving him a coy smile.
"Well when you were intoxicated that one night you called me darling, and I very much liked that; so how does that sound?" he asked with a wolfish grin.
"Darling it is then, darling," Beatrice giggled, feeling rather giddy.
"Goodness, I must admit, using our lovers' names deliberately like this does feel a bit...ticklish. But I can't deny it's a good feeling," Mistel said softly, his violet eyes piercing into hers. He looked away and pouted again, soberly saying, "Oh, drat! Look at the time. There are duties I must attend to, I'm afraid." He looked back into her eyes, a mischievous smirk adorning his face as he said, "I'd much rather stay with you right now, but...such is life. I will see you later, Beatrice!"
She heard him say under his breath, "So one game has ended, and another has begun." She had no idea what those words meant to him, so she chose to ignore it for now.
He started to walk off the bridge and Beatrice quickly snatched his hand. He turned to her looking dumbfounded and asked, "Yes, my love? What is it now?"
"I...don't get a kiss?" she asked bashfully, feeling her cheeks turn scarlet.
Mistel took a step closer to her so that they were only inches apart, and leaned down so close to her face that his lips brushed against hers as he hoarsely whispered, "Mon amour, you don't get a kiss until the first date. What kind of gentleman would I be if I were to kiss you right now?"
"A very generous one," she huskily returned, feeling a shiver run down her spine by the feeling of his soft lips brushing along hers with every word they uttered.
"Not tonight, my dear," he whispered, then moved his mouth to the side of her heated cheek, planting a long, tender kiss upon it. He straightened his spine and gave her a lopsided smile, then said in his usual teasing tone, "We'll have a date soon, where ever you'd like, and whatever you'd like to do. Just don't gaze at me for too long with those enormous ruby eyes of yours! They are bound to give me a heart attack, especially when you bat your lashes at me! The effect you have on me, my dear, you will never understand."
"I want a date soon then, darling," Beatrice said firmly, puffing out her cheeks. "I want to kiss you."
"Then it will be soon! Patience, Beatrice," Mistel chided playfully. "I'd like to kiss you as much if not more than you, but it will have to wait. You've kept me here long enough, I must go now, but I will be counting down the seconds until I see you and that adorable blush of yours again."
"As will I," Beatrice returned softly. I wasn't aware you were capable of having such an adorable blush.
Mistel leaned down and kissed her still heated cheek once more, then abruptly pulled away and grabbed her free hand; keeping his eyes locked on hers and almost bowing as he kissed her hand, murmuring against it, "Au Revoir, mon amour."
At that he let go, turning on his heel and walking toward town with a little more pep in his step than usual. Beatrice stood there, paralyzed and slightly dazed, staring as his silhouette quickly faded away, and put her hand to her cheek where his warm lips were only a few seconds ago, her other hand barely holding onto the bouquet of yellow roses.
Until we meet again, my love.
