Chapter 4: Confession

"I have decided Miss Meliah. I will confess to the women I love tonight!" Beaux announced to his dark-eyed companion sitting next to him on the sofa. She looked up at him and gave him one of her darling smiles while nodding with approval. The two of them were enjoying a cup of tea in her room as they had been doing over the past month on the weekends. Beaux knew that Meliah loved these moments as much as he did. She did not have any close companions, and in Beaux's company she could tell stories, douse her sorrows, and confess her secrets with only acceptance.

At first, Mr. and Mrs. Lavoirsier were very protective of their daughter, flitting past her bedroom to catch snippets of their conversations. However, both were thoroughly convinced that Beaux was a perfect gentleman, who would, of course, never engage in any suspicious activity. Moreover, neither wanted to lose his favor; after all, he was wealthy, handsome, and courteous. If he was interested in their little girl, they would not deter him.

Beaux looked around the room and caught a glimpse of his music box sitting on her vanity. It was surrounded by bottles of every shade and necklaces of pearl and silver. He knew she adored the trinket and played with its melodies every day. It was several times he had come upon her, brushing her dark wavy tresses before the mirror and humming serenely. Those were times he wished he could capture, as a fisherman his prey.

The bed behind him was like everything else that furnished the room: trimmed with lace, gold, or ribbons. It was as if he were sitting in a rose-colored paradise, caught in the sick daydream of an eleven-year-old princess. Still, Beaux loved every aspect of it.

Her mirror reflected the two of them and Beaux realized that they were but an inch apart. The proximity thrilled him. Meliah's reflection was stirring her tea with a small spoon, unaware of the silent eyes watching her every movement. Beaux could see a thin scar running along the length of her pale arm. And even from that distance, he could see her lip, faintly dappled at the places she had bit during her episodes of anxiety.

He could do it, he thought. If he turned her into one of his kind…if he made her immortal…she would not be this way. Her appearance would become the epitome of flawlessness. He had the power.

But if he wanted to bestow his curse upon her, he would have to kill her first. After she had fallen, briefly, into the hands of cold, unfeeling Death, he would condemn her to his perpetual fate. Beaux shook his head furiously at the thought. He loved her with a purely human emotion. He loved her because she was human – both unspoiled and yet flawed. He could never, never murder Meliah let alone transform her perfection into a monstrosity.

His musing was cut short when he saw Meliah's radiant reflection lean toward him, naturally and elegantly. He tore his eyes off the mirror and looked at the original. She was holding a napkin in one hand and with her other hand, she tilted his face toward hers. Beaux was thoroughly disappointed when she simply wiped the corner of his lips. Nevertheless, his face flushed violently with color, only to make him more attractive.

"I know she will love you," Meliah said confidently, nodding her heading several times as to assert her belief as she once again reclined against the striped sofa. "Will you allow me to meet her some time?"

It was too perfect.

"Of course! In fact," he said as he turned his body to face hers, "I want to show her to you."

"Really?" Meliah said. He could hear enthusiasm and excitement in her voice. His heart fluttered nervously.

"Close your eyes," he said coyly. He took up her hands in his, savoring the touch, and led her to the gold-framed mirror in her bedroom. He turned her body gently so that she faced the mirror completely; their full-length reflection gazed back at him. He stood behind her. "Now open them."

Meliah looked at the mirror in puzzlement and then turned her head to face the real Beaux. "What do you mea-"

But before she could finish, Beaux turned her face upwards and kissed her deeply on the lips. She was so warm – so wonderful. He could feel the euphoria spreading through his body, and his lovesick heart sang happily within his chest. His legs were numb and trembling, but his free arm instinctively wrapped around her waist. She did not return his kiss; her body was rigid as a board. And even in his inexperience, he could sense that something was not right.

In the mirror, Beaux could see that Meliah's eyes were wide with shock. Her expression jolted Beaux back into reality, and he stopped abruptly. Meliah crumpled to her knees as Beaux gently guided her way down. He could not help himself. He kissed her on her forehead tenderly, "I love you," he whispered affectionately. She looked at him with tears cascading from her eyes like jewels. It was so painful to watch. She looked so hurt. His eyes questioned her.

"Beaux," she choked through a sob. He was so bewildered. Did he make a mistake? Was she unsatisfied? He desperately tried to set the mood right. And without a second thought, he caught her lips once more and kissed with such passion Meliah seemed temporarily blown away. She twisted uncomfortably as if struggling to breathe. Beaux stopped reluctantly, and stared at her with regret in his green eyes.

"Meliah, is there something wrong?" he inquired tentatively, almost afraid of her response. She wailed into her small hands and her body shook ever so slightly with her heaving breaths.

"Mr. Beaux," she finally managed to say through her fountain of tears, "I'm…so…t-terribly so-sorry. I've been terrible to you… I - I…already have…someone….sp-special to me."

"Someone special?" Beaux repeated. He could hear the confounded stupidity in his own voice.

"Mr. Beaux," she started as she turned her mottled face to meet his, "I am so sorry….sorry..."

Her voice trailed off and Beaux was so disoriented he couldn't make out her meaning. She was crying so much that her eyes were turning increasingly pink and blotchy. Even so, Beaux found himself captivated by her beauty.

With a labored sigh she began anew, "I can not return your feelings. I have someone I love…Mr. Beaux…I'm so, so sorry. I was so foolish and so selfish and…and cruel. If I had known…Mr. Beaux, I didn't know…I never thought…oh…but if I had. I would have never… I'm so sorry…sorry." She was speaking so rapidly and breathlessly Beaux feared she may implode.

Beaux understood even though he tried desperately to shut out its meaning. She tried to say more but Beaux brought his pale fingertips to her lips and she choked her tears as she stopped. He didn't want to hear her apologize again; it was all his fault. She looked so dispirited that Beaux hated himself for causing the pain. He loved her so much. He could not imagine that another person could possibly love her the same way. A sharp crashing noise resounded in his mind. It was probably his poor heart, breaking and swiftly crumbling from the intensity of his agony.

"Will you let me?" Beaux asked. His eyes had lost all their sparkle and lay dying on his face. She looked up at them with concern.

"Anything," she said so earnestly that Beaux only wished he were not in this situation to enjoy it. She quickly took his hand in hers and began to stroke his palm with her delicate fingers.

"Let me stay at your side. Let me love you…Please… I can wait forever, Meliah, forever." He meant that last part very literally. Meliah's mouth opened and for a moment she seemed lost for words.

"No, Mr. Beaux. I don't want to cause you any grief; I am not worthy of your love. You know that! Just look at me! Any woman in this world can be yours… Mr. Beaux, I want you to be happy. I can not bring you that kind of happiness. Please, forget me." She let go of his hands as though trying to cut his affections.

Beaux was so torn by her words that he almost felt betrayed. How could she think he was that kind of person? Did she honestly believe herself as replaceable with 'any woman in the world'? How could she ever think that he could simply forget about her? Just like that? How could he possible be happy knowing that his one reason for being was in the arms of another man?!

"Miss Meliah, I will never forget you. Please, do not send me away."

Meliah looked lost for words and she began to weep pitifully. Beaux watched the tears once more but could not bring his immobilized limbs to assist her.

Then suddenly, he felt all his anger well up inside. He wanted to destroy and wreak havoc. He heaped the blame of Meliah's sorrow to her mysterious lover. He would not let that scoundrel take her away. He would tear the other man apart and toss the loathsome carcass into a fiery abyss. Meliah need not know…