Nicol greatly appreciates his fiancée's company whenever he has to sit in his personal office for long periods of time, writing away and completing his paperwork tediously.
It brings life to his barren office. Once a room that only reminded him of his daily duties now slowly forming into a beautiful, lively, and peaceful area where he can do his tasks with a mind in complete ease. Some of his servants would ask amongst themselves what could have changed his demeanour so poignantly, but the answer was quite obvious from the start.
It was Catarina.
Ever so patient with him, she chooses to take the trip from her house to his, just to sit somewhere in his office, doing practically nothing. She usually took a bench he had installed by the window to bask in the sunlight, or perhaps the moonlight, keeping him company and awaiting him to finish his work so the two of them can proceed whatever either one would love to do together. She would be reading a book that his sister recommended to her, or doodling away on a piece of paper.
She tries to be as quiet and still as she can, which, knowing her as well as he does, he knows that it is a struggle, but he appreciates it. As much as he likes her energy, he also enjoys the sense of serenity the silence between the two of them brings despite his continuous and arduous tasks. The mere feeling of her familiar presence in his office brings clarity, and each stroke of his pen comes naturally from then on.
Nicol states to any willing ear that she is one of his greatest motivators when it comes to his duties, more often than not. Without her inside his office, it feels quite empty and rather cold, despite the room being so full of things that reminded him of her. Small decorative plants, some trinkets she has given him, and sometimes, things she has left in his office and forget to retrieve. It is simply not the same without her.
It has not been too long since her engagement with Geordo fell apart and the Claes family accepted his proposal, and even a shorter time still since Catarina began to visit the Ascart household every day, but he has gotten himself so attached to her presence very quickly. He has not particularly against it, nor very surprised at the development, although, while she is truly one of the reasons why he continues to fulfil his responsibilities with peak performance, she is also his greatest distraction.
He would be simply writing when his eyes catch a glimpse of her figure, sitting comfortably and leaning back, book in hand. For a brief moment, Nicol would put down his pen and lace his fingers together, observing her, admiring her.
He would notice the slight crease on her brows, and wonder if, perhaps, some sort of conflict had occurred in the sugary plot. Oh! Her lips curved up, eyes filled with mirth. He could only assume that she has reached the book's comedic parts or its happy conclusion. Or when she would draw or write, the way her bottom lip slightly protruded into a pout, an adorable habit he noticed when she is too focused on a task at hand. Or when she falls asleep, his eyes trail down to her parted lips, watching her chest slowly rise and fall, chuckling quietly at the sound of her peaceful snores. When it gets too cold, he opens a drawer dedicated to her, takes out a blanket he bought only for her use, and wraps it around her, keeping her warm, then press a kiss on her forehead before he goes back to reviewing papers.
He found all of these quirks and habits cute, a part of Catarina that he simply adores and he cannot bring himself to ignore it all when her presence overwhelms his sense of responsibility.
Nicol is quite grateful about her enjoyment in sitting near the window. He is always graced by her magnificent beauty whenever the sunlight lays upon its red, orange, and yellow hues on her skin seemingly glowing under its brilliant light. Or when the sombre light of the moon reaches her face, defining each curve and feature of her face. It was like a painting brought to life, so enticing, so mesmerizing. One of these days, he would get himself a painting of her.
The young master still finds ample opportunity to get his work done, worry not, and at the required time. Alas, he still is reluctant in telling his fiancée such things as well, for he fears that she would cease staying with him when he is far too busy in his office and that is the last thing he wants. He just cannot get enough of her.
Today was one of those days. Busy, piles of paper stacked left and right on his desk. The only difference though was the gentle tunes that played throughout his office. Melodious and soothing, her clumsy fingers meticulously plucked and strummed the strings with practiced melody. It made his skin tingle, the way she played the lyre.
Ah. So that is why the tips of her fingers felt calloused for the past few days…
Her mother must be insistent in yet another more "ladylike" endeavour for her daughter, pushing musical instruments on her again. Considering that pianoforte, violin, xylophone and the harp were complete busts, lyre must be an acceptable new attempt.
Nicol crosses his arms as he watched she with a smile on his face, enraptured by her performance. Of course, he noticed, he dared not to miss a single detail about her. He was greedy like that, wanting to know more of her, to love it all, to love her entire self.
Her music, while with a technique that could not even be called beginner's level, more accurately a butchering of the art, was soothing, in a way. It reminds him of the crash of waves against the many rocks on the shore, against the sand, followed by the strong gusts of wind that faintly taste of salt. How exhilarating, sher music feels just like how he imagined it.
Just as he was about to pick up his pen once more, opting to listen whilst he signs his papers, the once melodic harmony was broken by an out-of-place pluck, a noise that is catastrophic even for her strange method. He looks up at Catarina, and she holds up a broken string on her lyre.
Nicol does care little about mistakes, as long as he can bring himself back up, but Mme. Millidiana does not share the sentiment, he could only assume.
"Oh, crud!" She laments out loud.
The young woman holds up the pieces of the string together, hoping they would magically reconnect together. When that failed, she tried to tie them back, also with little success, as it is intentionally too short for the arch, to produce the notes.
"It's the second one this month. Mother will be angered…" She grumbles under her breath, trying to play the piece once more, but without one of the strings.
Catarina played with her brows furrowed and a big frown on her face.
Nicol could not help it. He laughed loudly, hand covering his lips as his shoulders shook uncontrollably. It seems like she was in her own world, because she seemed startled, whipping her head towards him and flushing deeply. It was rare for Nicol to laugh, to express emotion more broadly, but, again, he seems to open an exception when it comes to her.
It was a wholehearted laugh, one that came from his chest with tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. He learned another detail about she that day, how Catarina deal with her music-related mistakes. It was hilarious to see her huff so angrily at an instrument as if it was at fault. A simple detail, sure, but it is her.
"Sophia has a lyre you can take home and show your mother." He informs, in between chuckles. "I shall have yours fixed and we can switch them back tomorrow."
Catarina beamed at him, and Nicol was reminded why he is so indulgent with his fiancée. All she does, it never bothers him, because it is always about her. It can only make him love her more.