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I recently searched up Allen's height, and his growth spurt through DGM is the most adorable thing! He went from 168, 169 to 174 (cm), which means Dem (166) was never taller than him XXDD. Take that Dem, you have been revoked the right to call him "Beansprout".
The young man traversed the winding dirt path across a large plain, with the gentle breeze mingling with his short, black tresses. The setting sun behind a large hill cast a red-purple glow onto the darkening sky, yet illuminated the field with a deep orange. Casting his gaze over the softly contoured landscape, he saw the lethargic pacing and grazing of horses.
He sighed, his search for the girl had not been fruitful. He travelled all around Europe, and even Asia. Initially, he easily found someone who had seen a girl that matched his description: a black haired Eurasian girl about 16. He was elated: a Eurasian appearance stands out because it is rare.
"Yeah, a girl with a black coat and two other men, right?" Each of them would ask the same question. "There's also a strange boy with white hair?"
The young man didn't know how to answer them, he wouldn't know of her clothing, let alone her companions in travel.
"When did you see them? And where were they heading for next?"
His leads would always fail to inform him of their next destination. The same situation continued, no matter how hard he searched.
He followed the same group of three, from Europe to Asia and then back to Europe. However, no matter how fast he skipped from one country to the next, he was almost always a day or two later than the group.
He was getting impatient.
Until today.
He had visited the town a few minutes ago, where he encountered an old man, staring at him intently. The old man approached him with suspicion in his eyes, "Young man, you look a lot like someone I know."
"I'm sorry?" He replied, stopped in his tracks.
"You resemble a girl that used to live in this town." The elderly man pointed at the young man with his walking stick.
The young man widened his eyes, "This girl…is she a Eurasian girl, about 16?"
The old man nodded, "Yes, of course. Dem would be about 16 this year."
The younger male recognised the name. That's right, her full name was Desdemona…Bidelia loved that name. He leaned towards the older man eagerly, "Can you please tell me where she is? I am looking for her!"
The older man pointed his walking stick towards the end of the town. "There's a small cottage beneath a hill. The Chapmans live there, they picked her up when she was only kid."
"Thank you very much!" The young man bowed graciously, before rushing off towards the cottage the older man spoke of.
Now, the young man stood on the porch of the wooden cottage. He stared at the door intently, a sudden mixture of nervousness and hope welled up in his chest. He closed his eyes.
Finally, he was getting closer to her. After so many years, he can finally see her again.
He wondered what she's like now…
Memories flooded back to him: a little girl who had large, shining eyes, always smiling so sweetly; the little sister that followed him everywhere he went; and the baby that was loved dearly by both their mother and him…
And then he remembered.
He remembered how her eyes changed after their mother's death, how her smile disappeared. He remembered the darkness that grew within her onyx eyes, the resilience and strength that replaced her innocent ignorance. He remembered her words, actions, when his old body failed him. He remembered how her little shoulders took on a burden too heavy, too painful.
But most importantly, there was that particular sight that burnt itself into his memories.
He remembered the moment her eyes turned golden, and the pure murderous intent he felt.
He shook his head. Now was not the time to think about that.
He lifted a hand and knocked on the door. Within a minute, a short, plump woman opened the door. At first, her eyes widened in shock and recognition, but they soon turned wary. "How may I help you?"
Margaret had conversed with the girl in the morning. She was shocked as she saw the young man's face…his resemblance to the girl was uncanny.
"Good evening Madam." He bowed courteously, "I am trying to look for a girl named Desdemona." The name felt so strange on his tongue, he realised he had never once called her that before.
Margaret frowned. The man could very well be related to the girl, and yet the woman knew that the girl's identity and her current job wasn't something she could tell just anyone. She was conflicted.
"Oh, yes, we know Dem." She nodded, "However, she hasn't been home for over a year…May I ask, what's your relationship with her?"
The young man smiled, "I am her brother."
Margaret's mouth opened in shock. She thought the girl had no family. She wondered if she should tell him about the girl arriving tomorrow... Maybe she should ask the girl before anything. "I see…unfortunately even we don't know when she will return here…"
The man frowned. "Do you know where she is now?"
Margaret shook her head, "She moves around all over the world, I don't know any details."
"I see…" The man's face turned downcast. His disappointment evident. Even when he found her adoptive family, he still doesn't have any idea where she could be.
"How about this, Mister. You tell me your name and how to contact you, and I will pass the information onto her the next time she returns." Margaret offered, letting the girl choose whether or not to meet him should be the best option.
The man nodded.
"My name is Chase Vaughan. Please tell her that I will be waiting for her at the place I died." With a bow, the young man turned and left.
Margaret stared after the man, contemplating on his cryptic words.
Clack~
The girl's heel hit the stone flooring of the platform with a piercing echo as she stepped off the train. She breathed in the fresh, morning air until her lungs could not expand anymore.
This familiar air, this familiar place, it brings back so many memories. This is the place she spent most of her life in, after all…
The girl turned her head towards the source of a northern breeze that caressed her face.
After all, the old circus wasn't that far away from here.
"Link, I said you didn't have to get the luggage from the top for me." Allen's voice came from behind her, he sounded frustrated. "I'm not that short, you know?"
"Well, since I was there, I might as well…" Link shrugged, noting how the boy was quite sensitive about his height.
Desdemona pivoted on her feet and headed straight towards their destination. She knew this place so well, she could navigate the town easily with her eyes closed. However, she took the time to look around.
The small country town had not changed since last year: the same houses, the same people, same trees, same stone paths…even the same weeds that grow stubbornly up from between cracks in the pavement.
The constancy of this country life brought her much consolation. No matter what life as an exorcist was like, there was always a place here for her.
The two males' footsteps followed behind her closely. She sighed to herself. It would have been better if the two of them weren't here. She just wanted a break.
She glanced over her shoulder briefly, locating Allen, who was admiring the scenery. In a split second, he seemed to catch her eyes.
Her gaze immediately returned to the stone footpath beneath. Unknown to her, he averted his eyes equally as quickly.
The Eurasian girl quickened her pace, eager to rid herself of him.
A turn into an alleyway, another turn onto a main street, then crossing over a bridge, the girl led the party out to a wide, open plain. A wide, winding dirt path led to a hill, visible before the horizon. White, wooden fences lined either side of the pathway, as well as sectioning off the endless plain into large paddocks. They seemed to be too low to segregate or trap animals, though.
"So…this is a horse rental?" Link commented. Squinting, he saw a small wooden cottage at the foot of the hill, accompanied by a barn-like structure, mostly likely the stables. "A most surprising ally of the Church."
"I agree." She huffed, "It wouldn't be so if it weren't for a bit of blackmailing."
Link contemplated, "I don't believe the Order would blackmail anyone into being their allies."
Desdemona shrugged, "Believe what you want."
Tim flew in front of Allen, who grabbed onto it and began pulling on its metallic, but still strangely elastic cheeks. Tim fluttered its wings in panic, trying to make Allen stop. The boy only looked down blankly, releasing his frustration on Tim's cheeks.
Link nodded, "Have you been here before, Miss Beast?"
"Of course." Suddenly, she stopped walking. Allen, who was close behind, bumped into her since he wasn't concentrating.
"S-sorry!" He stepped back immediately, releasing Tim who flew away quickly. However, it didn't seem like the girl cared whether or not he bumped into her or apologised to her. Her eyes were focused to her right...
Allen followed her gaze. He couldn't see anything clearly, but it appeared that something black was moving towards them at a great speed. As it approached closer, he identified that it could be a horse.
The girl widened her eyes, excitement and joy filling her otherwise weary heart. She leaped over the adjacent fence effortlessly, landing on the grass with a soft thud. She took a few steps forwards, towards the black creature that was heading towards her, and beamed.
Allen froze. He had never seen her smile so brilliantly before…she seemed so dazzling that his heart involuntarily skipped a beat. He looked away, feeling his cheeks heat up.
"Tempest!" She yelled, throwing her arms out in a welcoming manner as the stallion neared her.
Tempest slowed down to a trot when it was close enough. It happily pushed its muzzle into the girl's open arms, whipping its tail back and forth in excitement. It had been so long since the mount and the master last saw each other.
Link and Allen observed the joyous reunion. As it was close enough, they could finally see the large beast clearly. It was a tall horse, and a strong horse. From its anatomy it seemed to be a purebred Arabian. Its chiselled, defined bone structure was surrounded by its visibly lean and muscular build. Its coat was as black as the endless night sky, yet the shine would not lose to a thousand stars. Its mane and tail were, in contrast, duller and softer, meticulously groomed and particularly silky.
The stallion held its tail quite high, suggesting its unrelenting pride and its mildly intimidating presence. It reminded Allen of someone familiar.
"I missed you!" Desdemona rubbed the stallion's mane as she wrapped her arms around its thick, muscular neck.
Tempest neighed blissfully in response. It missed her too, and was so glad to have her back.
Unknown to him, Allen's lips pulled into an involuntary smile as he watched her, whose radiant smile may have been contagious.
Placing her free hand on the back of the horse (since her other hand held her small suitcase), the girl jumped and turned her body, expertly mounting the horse. She let go of the mane for a while, leaned forwards and patted Tempest on its neck. "Let's go home."
Tempest grunted and neighed. It suddenly lifted its front feet off the ground, raising its body to a rear. It stood almost vertical for a few seconds.
Allen panicked, people normally fall off horses when they do that, don't they? "Dem-!"
The girl held onto its mane and leaned towards the horse's neck to balance herself. However, she was laughing casually, "Ok, ok. No need to show off." The stability of the girl on the stallion almost seemed as if the two were one.
Turning on its hind legs, Tempest suddenly took off in the direction of the large hill with an amazing speed, stray grass and dirt was forced out of the ground by the strength in its legs. The girl laughed, enjoying the exhilaration of Tempest's top speed.
Allen, who barely recovered from the shock of the previous rear, watched in amazement the horse running freely on the plain. However, he frowned at the girl in disbelief. Does she want to die? When will she stop scaring him?
"Bareback." Link suddenly said, "She's riding bareback." He pointed out.
Allen blinked and finally noticing that, indeed, there was no saddle or reigns on the horse. "That's really dangerous is it not?" He shook his head. She's unbelievable.
"I don't think you need to be worried." The agent nodded, "Miss Beast is a very skilled rider."
Allen sighed, "Let's try to follow them. It's that house over there right?" Allen pointed to the small house at the foot of the hill. Puffs of smoke rose up from its small chimneys and faintly, the scent of freshly baked cake could be detected in the breeze. There was still quite a ways to walk until they reach the small cottage.
Link and Allen resumed their walking, their distance to the girl increasing drastically. Tim was insistent on riding on Allen's head, such that the boy cannot torture it any further.
Desdemona and Tempest flew across the field, and the cottage came closer and closer in sight. The delicious scent of freshly baked cake, boiling soup and all other forms of mouth-watering food assaulted her sense of smell, making her feel unexpectedly hungry.
They passed a large group of stallions and mares grazing on the green grass just a bit away from the stables. They paced leisurely by themselves, some sat beneath the shade of the trees.
Within another few minutes, Tempest stopped right in front of the porch. Desdemona hopped down from Tempest's tall back, and ran excitedly to the front door. Her feet sank into the soft rug at her feet, with the words "Welcome" embroidered at its centre. She knocked on the wooden door, and immediately, elated voices were heard from the inside.
"Franz! She's back! Go get the door!" Margaret instructed her husband.
"I know I know! I'm going!" Franz's disgruntled tone made the Eurasian girl smile.
Footsteps were accompanied by the squeaking of floor boards, then, with a creak of the hinges, the door opened. Franz stood with a heart-warming smile and wide open arms. "Look who's home?"
Franz was a man approaching his fifties, tall but little on the chubby side. A pair of pinnacles sat on his nose, compensating his failing eyesight due to age. A balding patch on his head was covered inconspicuously with a comb-over, yet the whitening roots of his hair were not easily concealed. Despite the clues that betrayed his age, the man's posture was upright and proud. His strong core from a lifetime of horse-riding would never fail him.
"Franz!" The girl embraced the tall and chubby man. "I'm home."
Franz patted the small girl's head in a gentle fashion. "Come in, come in. Margaret is cooking in the kitchen. She hadn't sat down since morning."
Stepping into the quaint house, Desdemona placed her suitcase by the door. She then quickly navigated into the kitchen, where the said woman was, indeed, juggling cooking utensils skilfully. "It smells so nice." Desdemona walked up from behind the woman, sniffing the delicious scent of the food but mainly, the scent of cake.
Margaret was a shorter, and plumber woman. Her platinum blonde hair was short in a wavy bob, and even if she had strands of white wisps, her original hair colour was light enough to conceal them. Her eyes were gentle and yet they were bright with an alertness that sees into her loved ones' thoughts. She wore a simple apron outside her usual attire of a long dress, which made her seem like an approachable and hospitable person.
Margaret laughed and playfully pinching the girl's nose. "Is that the first thing you say to me, you heartless little mongrel?"
"Well, I already told you I missed you so…" The Eurasian girl pulled back from Margaret so she could breathe.
"That reminds me." The older woman suddenly looked curiously at the door, "Weren't there meant to be another exorcist coming with you?"
The girl looked to the floor, her expression turned sour immediately, "Allen."
Margaret shot her an accusing look, "Did you ride off on Tempest all by yourself and left your partner on the road?"
"Well, he had Link…" Desdemona muttered under her breath.
"Young Lady, you mustn't treat guests that way." The plump woman waved a spatula in front of the girl's sulking face. "Run along and go fetch our guests. Since you're here, you might as well get them a ride, understand?"
Desdemona sighed, "Yes, Margaret." She dragged her feet as she trudged out of the house. Franz laughed at the girl's misfortune, so she stuck her tongue out at him.
Tempest hopped around excitedly as the girl emerged from the house.
"Come on, let's grab Aneira." She mounted the pure black stallion.
Tempest neighed in agreement.
They first visited the stables, next to the house, where she picked up a spare saddle. Then, they returned onto the plain, zipping across the field. Returning to the large group of horses from before, the girl promptly spotted the pure white mare, Aneira, resting beneath a tall tree. She was hard to miss.
Tempest trotted over to the mare. He rubbed his forehead against hers, which caused the female to stand up. She responded by rubbing her neck against his.
"Stop being so lovey dovey, please." The Eurasian girl grumbled and jumped off, proceeding to secure the basic saddle onto Aneira's back, then attached the rein around her muzzle. Meanwhile the equine beings snuggled.
"Done!" The human girl interjected the horses' romantic moment. Mounting Tempest, she used a hand to hold Aneira's rein, gently guiding her to follow.
Squeezing Tempest's sides with her legs, the two horses and a human ran back along the dirt road. Aneira wasn't as fast as Tempest, but he slowed down for her.
In the distance, the girl could see the two black dots, still walking on the curved road.
"Tempest, they walk so slowly." She complained. She's already been to her house and back, and they didn't appear to have progressed along the road all that much.
Allen nudged Link as he spotted the girl, with two horses, riding towards them. "She's back?"
"It appears that Miss Beast has brought another horse with her." Link observed, stating the obvious.
Allen huffed, "I bet she's thinking about how slow we are and became impatient."
Pulling on Tempest's mane, she slowed it down and stopped before Allen and Link. She pulled on the reins in her other hand, guiding Aneira in front of her.
"There's still quite a ways to walk." The girl looked at Link, "Can you ride?"
The blonde man nodded briefly, "I can manage."
Desdemona passed Aneira's reins to Link, who mounted the horse with confidence. She then glanced over to Allen, who, she found, was avoiding her gaze.
"I-I'll go ride with Link…" He began to turn around.
"Beansprout!" She called.
He turned around, "It's Allen you know-" He was met by her hand at his face. He glanced up at her, she stared at him blankly.
The boy hesitated before he took her hand. He jumped onto the horse with her help, and managed to mount it properly.
Tempest grunted in annoyance, moving around slightly in discomfort.
"Sorry, it'll just be for a short while." The Eurasian girl patted its neck, trying to calm it down. She turned to look over her shoulder. "Don't clench him with your knees, don't dig your heels into his belly. You'll hurt Tempest and he will get confused." She shot a series of instructions at the boy.
Allen nodded without looking at her. "Okay."
She waited, his hands were resting on the horse's back.
Sighing in exasperation after a few silent minutes, the girl reached behind her, grabbed his left arm and made him wrap it on her waist. "Hold on, or you'll fall."
Allen widened his eyes and blushed. However, he complied. Hugging her waist gently, he leaned into her back. He let his suitcase rest on the side of the horse.
The girl felt his warmth. She felt her cheeks heat up a little, but shook it off. "I'll go slowly."
She glanced over at Link, who had no problems controlling Aneira. He's better than he claims.
Pushing her knees against her mount, she signalled for it to move forward. With a lean of her body, it turned obediently, galloping down the dirt path at a considerably high speed.
Allen admired her. In his position and with his arms around her waist, he could feel the girl's movements: how she matched the ripples of Tempest's muscles beneath her. She rode with a strong sense of balance. Despite going quite fast, his own stability was not challenged.
He never knew she could ride so well.
Then again, he wondered what she knew of her.
Within a few minutes, they covered the distance to the cottage effortlessly, which would have otherwise taken them another 20 minutes to walk.
Tempest stopped in front of the wooden house once again. Allen was eager to put some distance between him and the girl, so he let go of her as quickly as possible, then jumped off the horse by himself.
She blinked at him, and tried to ignore his strange behaviour. However, she couldn't help feeling disappointed now that his warmth was no longer against her back. She dismounted Tempest as well, patting the horse's forehead, "Thank you, Tempest. You've worked hard."
Link arrived shortly after the two exorcists, slowing Aneira down and then stopped. He hopped off the white mare with certain agility.
"Ah they're here!" The party heard a man's voice, so they turned to see Franz, holding open the door, and yelling into the house.
Margaret appeared behind her husband, excited to greet her guests, "Oh, welcome! Come in, come in!" She beckoned the two males into the house.
Allen stepped onto the porch courteously, "We're sorry to intrude." Link followed behind him.
"Not at all!" Franz replied.
Desdemona walked over to Aneira, undoing her saddle and reins. Tempest stood patiently beside the mare, waiting for the girl to release it.
Lifting the saddle and reins off the mare, the girl pushed gently on the mare's neck. "You two go play now."
As if understanding the girl's words, Tempest trotted excitedly around Aneira, then the two of them galloped off onto the open plains.
Hanging the saddle on the wooden railing just beside her, she followed behind Link and stepped into the cottage.
Allen wouldn't forget his introductions in any situation, "Hello, my name is Allen Walker." He smiled and extended a hand towards Franz.
"Oh!" Franz seemed surprised by Allen's overly formal demeanour. It wasn't a common sight in this country town. The older man shook the younger boy's hand, "Uh…I am Franz Chapman and this is my wife, Margaret." He gestured to the woman beside him.
"My, my." Margaret placed a hand over her mouth to hide her wide smile, "What a polite gentleman."
"My name is Link, nice to meet you." Link bowed behind Allen, which caused Margaret and Franz to laugh.
"Dem, I never knew your job required this much formality. How do you even manage with that nasty attitude of yours?" Franz provoked the little girl, closing the door behind her.
She rolled her eyes, "Franz, they are the weird ones." She accused her company.
"Shush, young lady." Margaret scolded the girl with an amused expression, "Be nice to our guests."
Allen watched the girl pout in dissatisfaction. He smiled subtly. Her reaction was quite adorable. Her usual distant and superior aura was gone. Even though he thought he was accustomed to her coldness, he found himself wishing that she would show this side of her to him more.
He averted his gaze as he became aware of his own thoughts. He's still…not going to apologise.
"You must be hungry. Franz will show you to our guest room, where you can put down those heavy-looking suitcases, then we'll have lunch!" Margaret instructed clearly, "Dem, I need to talk to you."
Each house has its set of rules, and in this house, Margaret's words are the law. Franz and Desdemona knew that well, so immediately, they carried out their individual tasks.
Franz escorted Allen and Link into the guest room beneath the stairs, where two beds were set up properly within a reasonably sized room. Meanwhile, the girl followed her adoptive mother up the stairs, towards her room.
"Then, I'll leave you two to it." Franz left to give the two younger males some privacy such that they can settle in. Allen thanked Franz and followed him to the door, where the white haired boy involuntarily stared up the stairs the girl went up to, wondering what she was doing and what her room was like…
Franz noticed the stare and was puzzled.
Upstairs, Margaret closed the door behind her after the girl entered. She placed her suitcase on the chair at her desk, and looked around with a smile. "It's still the same."
"Of course. We keep it like this so you can come back whenever you feel like." Margaret approached the girl, her hands were clasped tightly in front of her chest.
Desdemona frowned, "What's wrong?" She knew the older woman well enough to discern her habit whenever there was something troubling her.
"Yesterday, a strange man came to look for you." Margaret began.
"Strange…man?" The younger girl repeated, prompting the woman to continue.
"Yes. He said some really strange things."
"Like?"
"He said…he said he was your brother."
Desdemona became silent. She remembered her recent nightmares, she remembered her past and his death. There was no doubt. "That's impossible." She nodded to herself, "My brother died eight years ago."
Margaret nodded, "I thought it was something like this... I didn't tell him where you were, or that you'd be returning today, but he already knew we adopted you…"
"Well, what you told him wouldn't matter anyway, he's a fake." The Eurasian girl began unpacking her suitcase leisurely, her tone was blatant. However, deep inside, she still felt quite disturbed. Why would someone claim to be her brother?
"I still need to tell you this." Margaret insisted, "I asked him to leave his name and his contact in case you wanted to find him…And he told me this…"
Desdemona turned and blinked at Margaret, it intrigued her. She told herself not to expect anything though…
"His name is Chase Vaughan. He will be waiting for you at the place he died."
Desdemona froze. Chase's name…Bidelia's last name…This was all too much of a coincidence. There was no one alive who would know her well enough to fabricate all of this unless…
Unless Chase was really alive…
But that is impossible.
"M-Margaret." Her voice wavered, "What…what did he look like? What do you think?"
Margaret sighed, "He resembled you so much it was scary. And…I don't think he's lying."
The girl felt her knees turn weak, so she had to support herself on her table. The shock was too sudden, too overwhelming, and she felt so lost…
Those dreams…The reason they are coming back to haunt me…perhaps Chase didn't die?
Margaret placed a hand on the girl's shoulder comfortingly. "You decide for yourself if you want to go meet him. Whatever your choice is, Franz and I will always support you."
Desdemona shook her head as she placed a palm against her forehead, "It's impossible Margaret, he has to be a fake."
The older woman embraced the girl, "Just…think about it, ok?" She smiled, "Now, I'll leave you to your unpacking for a bit. Lunch will be soon! I prepared a literal FEAST for your friend downstairs. I heard he has quite the appetite." Margaret promptly left the room and closed the door, leaving the girl some time to think and absorb.
Desdemona's strength left her legs and arms, and she collapsed onto the wooden floor. She closed her eyes and tried to breathe. Her chest felt constricted, her breaths weren't deep enough. She felt dizzy.
What is going on?
Chase…
"So he walked up to me, with his belly sticking out, and said 'I am an experienced rider of two years, remember that!'. Then he huffed and walked away, the faeces that stuck to his butt dropped down in blobs as he walked."
Franz's animated story of an arrogant man falling off a horse and landing in a pile of horse manure drove Allen into rounds of laughter between his huge bites. "I'm sure his pride suffered greatly."
"Well, of course it did! And it was damned amusing!"
Allen spared a glance over to the girl, who sat beside him, staring blankly at the table. She seemed troubled. Absent-mindedly, she plunged her fork into her bowl of garden salad.
Yes, that's right. Garden salad. Allen refrained from commenting on her drastic change of eating habits, but it didn't stop him from staring at her eat in wonder.
Since when did this girl voluntarily eat vegetables?
The girl had changed out of her tight-fitted uniform, and into a looser white shirt and black shorts, which Allen found extremely attractive, despite the simplicity of her attire. Her high boots were gone as well, replaced by a pair of short, dull leather boots that covered up to her ankle.
Allen got changed as well, taking off his uniform jacket and putting on a tight turtle-necked and sleeveless top, which would normally annoy the girl, but not today. She barely noticed his change of clothes at all.
On the other end of the table, Link and Margaret were having an in-depth discussion into the recipe book the Eurasian girl sent a month ago, titled "Masterpiece Sweets Anthology, by Malcolm C. Rouvelier."
"You mean, Mr. Rouvelier is your colleague?" The older woman was surprised.
Link shook his head, "No, he is my superior."
"That is amazing." Margaret nodded, "Mr. Rouvelier has such a fine palate, and a great attention to detail!"
Link nodded his head in vast agreement, "Indeed, he is a very attentive man."
"Then he must be a very good superior?" Margaret inquired.
"Yes, he is very considerate of his subordinates."
Allen continued to gulp down dishes after dishes of delicious home cooking. He must admit, while Margaret's cooking style was not formal like Jerry's, the taste of the dishes weren't inferior at all.
"You are eating it as if it's really delicious." Margaret suddenly spoke to Allen, "It makes me really happy." She flashed the young boy a smile.
Allen paused his monstrous eating, "Ah it is really delicious! I'm sorry to trouble you with my appetite though…"
Franz waved his finger, "Not at all! Young men should eat like this!" The older man raised his thumb at Allen. "I remember when I was your age…"
"Oh shush, Franz. No one asked you." Margaret stopped her husband.
Allen laughed, their family dynamic was so nice. "It must have taken hours to cook."
"Well, aren't you stating the obvious." Desdemona replied suddenly, her tone was sarcastic. She had finished her garden salad and has now picked up a piece of sponge cake that Margaret prepared as dessert.
Allen was more used to her eating cake. "No, I just wanted to express my gratitude…"
"Yes, of course. Allen is so polite and grateful that no matter how he troubles others, it'll be okay because no one will mind."
Allen frowned, "I'm not using gratitude as a tool to use people. I'm sincere. I know I have caused much disruption."
"I'm glad that you realise that, although your realisation serves no purpose." She glared at him.
"What do you want me to do?" Allen placed down his fork and glared back at her, his tone became a little harsher than he intended. Why was she provoking him like this?
"What about not causing trouble for others in the first place?" She raised her eyebrows, sick of his self-righteousness.
"I can't always control the situation." He shook his head, she's impossible. "If I caused you any trouble then I apologise for it."
"I don't need your apology." She looked away, dismissing him easily. "Do you think gratitude and apologies will always solve everything?"
"Then what should I do to please you?" He's becoming exasperated.
She opened her mouth and breathed in, about to retaliate. How about removing yourself from my life?
However, Komui's words ran in her ears once again. Cut Allen some slack, ok?
The girl swallowed the words on her tongue and frowned, "Tsk." She ignored him and silently jabbed at her cake.
Allen wondered what the girl was about to say, but he could feel that it wasn't anything pleasant. He wasn't going to press on, he was feeling quite infuriated himself. Instead, he picked up his fork and resumed eating.
Link, Franz and Margaret watched the hostile exchange between the exorcists, and then glanced at each other helplessly. None of them spoke up, but Margaret was slightly worried about the girl. She kept on saying that the man being her brother was impossible, yet it's noticeable that the revelation still distressed the girl. Margaret knew that had much to do with her frustration and bad mood.
Franz, on the other hand, whose father-radar had picked up on almost all of Allen's long stares at his daughter, was left in utter confusion.
The rest of lunch featured Allen's silent devouring of food, Desdemona's repeated and violent assault on her cake, and Link, Margaret and Franz's forced conversations between them.
After that disastrous lunch, Franz pulled Allen to the back of the barn where he set up a gate. Then he called Komui to report and explained that since they finished their mission early, Desdemona wanted a few days to stay at the Chapmans. Komui agreed as long as they return within four days. Allen spent the rest of the afternoon helping Franz around the barn, and he didn't see the girl until dinner.
Dinner was equally as delicious, and equally as disastrous, especially for the Chapmans and Link. The two exorcists made it a point not to look at each other or converse with each other, despite sitting next to each other. The other three tried their best to play along as naturally as possible, but the silence between conversations was unbearable.
After dinner the girl disappeared again, Allen went into his room, Franz sat in the kitchen reading and drinking tea, while Link and Margaret decided to collaborate supper.
Allen scratched his head in frustration as he sat in the guest bedroom by himself. He can't let this thing continue between him and her, whatever the thing was.
She must be angry at him because of his inconsiderate reaction that night on the train, yet her anger this morning seemed to suggest there was a far greater problem than that.
Allen wondered if she was really angry at him, or if she's releasing her other frustrations all on him.
He looked out to the window, wondering where the girl might be. However, the reflective glass showed him a sight he did not welcome. The looming shadow behind him smiled its eerie grin. Allen looked away.
He sighed and fell onto his bed, covering his arm over his eyes.
The 'Fourteenth' was always looming at his back, threatening his consciousness…almost as if the Noah was waiting for a chance to take over his will, a crouching tiger, waiting for its prey to lower its guard.
Allen didn't want to think anymore, he had promised that he will keep the Fourteenth at bay with his own will, and that is what he will continue to do, no matter how difficult, or isolated it made him feel.
It was a war he could only fight by himself.
The boy's mind strayed. He suddenly remembered the girl's tears as he woke her from her nightmare, her frowns during the past few days, and her troubled look ever since this morning.
Allen wondered if she was fighting her own inner demons.
He should really apologise to her.
Meanwhile, Margaret, who was preparing supper in the kitchen, finally gave into her curiosity and concern for the girl. "Link, do you know what's wrong with the two of them?" She inquired. Link might know something since he travelled with them.
Link contemplated, "My job is to watch over Mr. Walker. However, their conflict seemed to have risen when I was asleep…"
Margaret placed a finger to her chin, "I thought she was in a bad mood, but it couldn't be that simple…Do they have a grudge?"
Franz, reading newspaper on the side, suddenly spoke up, "I don't think it's a grudge, not a mutual grudge anyway. The way the boy stares at Dem made me think that we finally got a son-in-law candidate."
Margaret placed her hand on her forehead and sighed, "Knowing that stubbornly oblivious girl, she wouldn't have a clue what Allen thinks of her."
Franz nodded, "That's for certain, she's clueless. Which makes me think whatever is wrong, it's probably our Dem's fault…poor boy."
"I don't believe that is the case." Link contributed, "For the past week I have noticed that Miss Beast is quite considerate of Mr. Walker. Mr. Walker has some difficulties in his life right now, but Miss Beast doesn't mention it, and appears to be quite careful when speaking to him. An outburst like this morning had never happened before."
Margaret finally understood: it was a combination of Allen's situation and Desdemona's own distress that resulted in such a strained relationship between the two.
She opened her mouth to speak, but stopped when the door of the guest room audibly opened, then closed.
Allen soon appeared at the doorway of the kitchen. "Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Chapman. I'll just go for a walk outside." He greeted with his usual politeness and glanced over at Link. "Do you need to come?"
The boy's tone made it obvious that Link was not welcome. Link hesitated, he should follow Allen.
"Oh no, Link doesn't need to go. He needs to stay here and help me bake!" Margaret acted immediately, pushing her bowl of batter into Link's capable hands.
The blonde man blinked profusely, "Ah, it is my job to-"
"You are all here for a break right? That includes you too Link." Margaret pointed a scolding finger at the young man.
"Well, I'm off." Allen said sternly, leaving the cottage on Margaret's cue. "I'll be back soon." His tone was full of determination, courage and seriousness. He closed the door gently behind him.
Link looked to Margaret with a frown, "If he runs away-"
"Trust me, he won't." The woman assured, "If he does, we'll chase him down for you."
"Poor kid." Franz leisurely flipped a page in his newspaper, "He sounded as if he was going to war."
Margaret chuckled, yet she still can't help but worry about the girl.
~x.X.x~
Desdemona dragged the bucket of water to Tempest's feet, and pulled out the large brush inside the bucket, scrubbing down the horse's shiny, black mane.
"He is insufferable!" She complained, releasing her built up frustration by scrubbing the thick-skinned beast with all her strength.
Tempest neighed happily, the bath was well appreciated.
"He always thinks he is right! He doesn't consider other people's problems, and he always thinks he's the most unfortunate person in the world."
She dunked the brush violently into the bucket, a large portion of the water splashed onto the dirt ground beneath. She picked up the brush from the bucket again, continuing to scrub Tempest from the neck to the rump.
"I mean, he asked me for an answer, I gave him an answer, and just because he was unhappy with the answer doesn't mean he has the right to put me at fault!"
She threw the brush into the bucket, picked it up, scrub, and repeat.
"I am not at fault for answering honestly! I am not obliged to tend to his delicate emotional state! I am not required to take on his silent blame!"
Scrub, scrub, scrub.
"I hate him so much." She whispered to herself passionately.
Tempest grunted happily. The girl's arms aren't the strongest, so her presumed violent scrubbing translates to quite a nice pressure for a muscular horse.
However, the girl's scrubbing became softer and slower. Desdemona placed a wet hand against Tempest, and lowered her gaze. "Chase can't be alive."
The black beast swished its tail, why has she stopped?
"I saw the tent explode. His condition at the time as well…he couldn't have moved from his bed. If he did, those two people would have killed him…even if he did escape, his tuberculosis…"
She trailed off. Not wanting to admit her own thoughts.
Even if he escaped, his tuberculosis was incurable…he would've died anyway.
"But what if he survived?" She asked herself, "What if he survived? What if he is really waiting for me there? What should I do?"
Step~
Tempest perked up, and the girl froze. She heard distance footsteps behind her and soon after, the breeze carried over a familiar scent. She grinded her teeth.
Without turning to glance at Allen, she spoke as calmly as possible, "What do you want?" She resumed scrubbing.
Allen breathed in, an uneasy feeling settling into his chest, "I'm here to apologise."
"For what?" The girl moved to the other side of Tempest.
The white haired boy took a few steps closer. "I shouldn't have reacted that way to your answer…because I was the one who asked you-"
"I don't care about that."
Allen sighed, "And for being inconsiderate, even though you kept on looking out for me…"
"You are not obliged to be considerate." She shook her head, dumping her brush into the bucket and picked up a towel to dry Tempest's coat.
"But I am."
She glanced to him briefly, and was shocked to find his expression to be somewhat pained. "You are not."
Allen took another step towards the girl, such that he was right next to the horse, on the opposite side as her. "I am. You helped me so much, so I want to be able to do something for you too…"
His large eyes stared desperately into hers, and she felt afraid of those pleading eyes. She averted her gaze, "I never intended to comfort you."
"You don't have to intend to do anything. You make me feel better just by being near me."
The girl quickly turned away from him, walking away from Tempest to hang the towel on the railing, purposefully hiding her face. She frowned in dismay as an unexplainable feeling rose in her chest. "W-what are you saying?"
The white haired exorcist walked around the horse and approached the girl. She was running away, but he can't let her go until he's said what he wanted to say. "I'm saying exactly what you hear, Dem. You have no idea how much you can affect me. When I see you cry, when I see you frown, when I see you being troubled, all I want to do is to be by your side, and hope that my presence would help you the same way as yours have helped me."
"I don't really understand…" She turned around intending to brush Tempest's mane, but she found herself blocked by Allen. She looked up at him (since when did he grow so tall?) and tried to inch away slightly.
He noticed and suddenly grabbed her wrist to prevent her from slipping away. She held her breath. It's here again, the weird thing her heart does.
"What part do you not understand?" He moved his face closer to hers. She was visibly growing more uncomfortable by the second. "You bring me relief, you distract me from this war, this lonely battle inside me."
"B-but I don't even do anything! I argue with you, I insult you, I hit you..."
"You make me happy by just existing." Allen tilted his head to see her eyes, which were trying their best to avoid his gaze. "I don't want to lose you."
I don't want to lose you. The girl froze. She heard that before.
"How is that even possible?!" She glared at him, she felt helpless inside. She didn't like where this was going.
"I like you." His eyes shone with even more seriousness and determination. She was taken aback, since when did he grow immune to her glares.
"I-I don't like you." She retaliated, but quite disturbed by his firmness and her tone fell weak.
"Dem." The force in his voice grew stronger, yet he wasn't talking loudly. "I love you."
She was shocked silent.
He stared at her for a while longer, noticing fear amongst the confusion in her eyes. His hand on her wrist felt her quiver slightly. He frowned worriedly, he is scaring her?
Letting go of her quickly, he stepped back. He was unsure what her reaction meant, and he realised that he didn't even try to predict her reaction. His words came out as an avalanche of impulses.
He did the only thing he could think of.
Allen bowed to the girl formally, before quickly rushing off back into the house.
The girl stood there for a few more seconds after Allen left, before sinking onto the dirt ground beneath her. She realised she was holding her breath for a long time, so she took a deep breathe.
Tempest grunted, it noticed its Master's gloomy mood and paced over, nudging the girl's face with its muzzle.
Desdemona lifted a hand and patted Tempest's forehead.
Why did he tell me that now? I don't want to think about it, I don't have any energy left to think about this. On one hand, someone tells me that they are my dead brother, on the other, Allen is spouting nonsense.
The girl leaned her own forehead against the horse's and closed her eyes. "Tempest, this is all so messed up."
Tempest neighed, trying to comfort her.
"Why the hell did he bow?"
~x.X.x~
Link put on his oven mitts and pulled baked cake out of the oven, setting it onto the cooling rack. Margaret was behind him, preparing the chocolate icing. Franz helped out, fanning his newspaper to cool the cake faster.
They used Rouvelier's recipe. The man titled it Coeur de Fusion, French for "A Melting Heart".
Suddenly, they heard the door open, and close. Soon, Allen poked his head into the doorway. "Link, I'm back." He stated.
"Welcome back!" Margaret greeted. Link just nodded in acknowledgement.
Smiling weakly, Allen trudged across the hallway and entered his room, closing the door behind him.
The three in the kitchen observed the boy, and looked at each other.
"He looks defeated." Franz nodded.
"Totally defeated." Margaret agreed.
Link shook his head, putting the icing into the piping bag.
Franz's expert fanning cooled the cake to ice-able temperature in about 10 minutes, so the two baking experts began their icing process.
Kacha!
Bam!
They flinched as the main door opened violently, and was then slammed shut. Desdemona stormed into the kitchen, her face was slightly flushed. They didn't know if she ran home, if she was angry, or if she was blushing. Her expression revealed nothing else.
"Is that cake?" The girl asked, looking over Link and Margaret's shoulder.
"Ah yes, Link and I were following that recipe book you gave me." Margaret turned back to her icing. "Want to try a piece?"
"Ok." Desdemona waited as she sat at the table, while the two experts did their thing with the squeezy thing. Franz sat down next to the girl, seemingly going back to his newspaper, but was actually trying to observe the girl's face from behind the safety of the paper.
"Here you go. Tell us how it is." Margaret cut out a piece for the girl and gave it to her on a plate with a fork.
Taking over the plate and fork, the Eurasian girl inhaled the delicacy in about five seconds. "It's delicious. Another?"
Margaret blinked, "O-oh. Sure."
Another piece was devoured in another five seconds.
The girl stood up, taking her plate to the sink. "It's delicious, you should make it more." She washed the plate and the fork quickly, wiping her hands dry on the towel next to the sink.
She turned to the other three, "I'm tired. I'm going to bed. I need to get going early tomorrow morning." With that, the exorcist flew out of the kitchen, up the stairs and into her room.
Franz, Margaret and Link could barely keep up with their eyes.
"She's stress eating." Margaret understood the girl's heart best.
"She lost as well." Franz shook his head.
"They both lost." Link nodded to himself. He quietly wondered where the girl was going tomorrow.
At the same time, the same question popped into all three of their minds.
Then who won?
A/N
AHHHH IT'S FINALLY DONE.
This chapter was agonising for me to write. It demanded so much character accuracy it's not funny. I went over each of their conversations at least 10 times, changing it each time, just so that none of them go OOC. The details of this chapter took much out of me as well. It was hard OTL.
AND YES! Finally Allen said something, albeit at a completely inconvenient time for Dem. They're finally getting somewhere, right?
Also I'd like to mention and explain why I changed my Chapter names all the way through (lol). So I was staring at my chapter names 5 minutes ago and thinking...they are SO boring. I don't want to name each chapter individually either. So then I go back to my trusty reference: DGM manga. Hoshino names her chapters "1st Night, 2nd Night, 3rd Night..." etc etc so I got inspiration from her. Star, because Dem's repeated motif is stars. (Her name, Desdemona, means "ill starred") And also, if Allen walks through the "Nights" (manga) then I feel Dem should be the "Stars", the lights that guide him and accompany him as he walks. Links to title of Fic as well XD (Much thought has gone into this I promise)
I wonder if you guys like the chapter name change XD Tell me in a review!
Thanks all again for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, if you did then all my agonising edits are worth it!
Now please review? It'll make me happy ~~
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