Thread: Wavers of Reality  —   [& Journal]

CENTER Designed for Punishment part 2 part 3 is in the post below As the door slid audibly shut behind them, the two young people were left in only the company of one another, though it was noticeable that one of them desired this shared space more than the other did. Louis certainly enjoyed the chance to be alone with his step-sister. However, there was a bit of a struggle within him. She was certainly an attractive young woman, and if they had not shared the blood of his unfaithful father, she could have been a fitting candidate to fight with other minor noble girls for his hand. On the other hand, his own dear mother loathed both her and the common tramp who had seduced her husband, and Louis knew he had to hurt Stella to stay in his mother's good graces, with all the benefits that entailed. Of course, there were several ways he could hurt her... Her quiet demeanour did not seem to discourage the presence of her host, as Stella might have hoped, to give her some space to get acquainted with her new residence. Quite the opposite in fact if the blonde girl was to watch his reflection in the windows, she would notice that rather than receding into the distance, her half-brother was approaching her, his mirror image growing until he was standing right behind her, a calm smile on his lips. He was close, only a few hand widths separating them, his reflection meeting her eyes over her shoulder. It is no significant trouble, dear sister, Louis spoke calmly in response to her words of gratitude, nurturing the idea that it was, in fact, an effort made by the household to accomodate Stella and her mother, though he didn't speak it so plainly as to draw attention to the fact that he might expect compensation on behalf of his family. Together they stood before the large windows, the warm glow of the slowly setting sun bathing them both in an orange light. She did not move away from him, did not shy away from his presence, and her silent acceptance of his proximity was all he needed. One of his hands, which had been folded easily behind his back along with its twin, now rose, and Stella would suddenly feel his fingers upon her shoulder, a light grip as his fingers gripped her skin through her blouse. Then, a moment later, his grip tightened a little and then relaxed once more, several times, as if he only wanted to give his sister a gentle massage. However, his fingers were soon moving once more, now in the direction of her bare neck, wandering inch by inch. At first she would only feel his fingers through the light fabric of her blouse, but within moments there was the warm touch of his skin against hers, as his digits caressed up the side of her slender neck. He smirked slightly, seeing the expression on her face in the reflection of the window, and he could feel her tensing under his touch, as his fingers ascended the side of her neck. The continued to climb, until at last he brushed a few locks of golden hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering for a few long, sensous moments at her earlobe. You must be tired from the trip, Louis commented, his voice quiet with a strong hint of mirth in his tone, as if he was enjoying a private joke on Stella's expense, one that she was not privy to at the moment, and his hand remained at the side of her head. His fingers left her ear, and trailed down her golden tresses, feeling some blonde locks between his fingers as if ascertaining the quality and make of some fine textiles. The gleam in her blue orbs was that of a stupid hopefulness that he would reduce his mass from the reflection. Louis had become elastic and stretched right behind her, in an intrusive way that left her anxious and unblinking. Admittedly, Stella felt as if she were a burden from inception. And while there was much truth to that, the matter became more apparent with each protracted second she was acquainted within the walls of the El'Bridget home. El'Bridget... people of the world would only have dreamt of possessing the powerful and well known surname. That may be a part of her last name, but it appointed her no benefits or advancements of such the prestige title in the position she was bestowed. She may very well bear that hyphened last name, though everyone knew as well as she did that stripped of the falsely placed title she was another mere no one. Still, she would have to come to accept that the people within these walls may have no problem, even take pleasure in reminding her of the reality of it all, which was nothing but a nightmare. Not only did she not belong, she would have to attend a new school and try to make new friends, her mother was growing more ill by the day and the medical attention had not appeared to be warding it off. Atop of that, now she had this brother whom she so strongly wanted to believe that she did not know what to think of him. That itself appeased her more than considering the very truth that rotted within her core. One that he kept toying with, as though he were doing no wrong. He dauntlessly rebelled against her non-verbal signals of communication one after the next, relentlessly, and at that only had known her under an hour! This one-- Stella started with placing fault on Louis, though felt compelled to cease the train of thought, which had forked into the opposite direction what if it were herself? Not him, but her. She thought it plausible. After all, she lead the life of a commoner up until she stepped foot on the very floor she stood. Very much he could be somewhat less sheltered, educated, and socialized more than she ever partaken. Then it suddenly felt acceptable to misplace her internal behaviors of the fact that their ideals of socialism were different. In addition, Stella was only sixteen, a few years younger than him. In her young eyes she thought him to be much older than three or four years. A more accurate comparison would be of about double that. Yet concurrently in her mind he was still considered in the same age range, only that Louis reaped the dominance and authority, certainly the superiority. Then out of the murk, his fingers captured her shoulders and a jolt surged through out the perimeter of her soft form. So taken by surprise she was that to him it might have felt violent. It broke the penetration of the gaze she held to Louis's reflection. She was breathless. She could neither accept nor reject his affection. Fear gave speed to her heart. Thump, Thump. Her defensive arms crossed at her chest constricted, and pushed the double supple mounds together in an inviting fashion that poured atop the neckline of her white blouse. His massaging fingers sapped her strength. She was curious as to how long she could keep this up. Strange to say that after a couple of pumping grips the sapping evolved to.. pleasant sparks and from across the bridge of her nose, ear to ear, a blushing pink streak bloomed. Stella very slightly twisted her head toward him, though not at all, and almost expected that to be enough to get him to cease his uneasy actions. But to her rejection, she felt once more the pressure of his thick digits fall to a new area of her shoulders.. her flesh . His fingers felt like a violation and were unwelcome, much as she was in this place. It took visible restraint to prevent the stiffening of her shoulders extending to the point that it might have depressed the advancements of his fingers. She succeeded. However, it was all the more a battle of her own fretful nerves, and delightfully twisted reactions of her muscles. Once crept up to her ears, it was out of a natural, unnoticeable reaction that her shoulders raised and shuttered to the foreign sensation. The heat emitting from her cheeks made her eyes sting. For a bleak moment, silence hummed the tune in the air after his mention of her being tired. He was mocking her, she was sure of it. She thought that secure tone in his voice was indeed amusement, probably out him thinking her as childish for such displays of something that would be perceived as friendly. Panic boiled her blood, and it was there she swore on her life she had not inhaled one breathe the entire time he had his hands on her. She took three deep breaths, the first one touched of a loud gasping sound. Her shoulders declined, only to tense once more. And spoke in reply, Yes her voice was cracked and she lightly coughed until the tunnel of her throat was cleared. She repeated, Yes. And went on with a cautious voice, I guess I'm not used to sitting in a car for such a long time. Among other things. Standing there wracked her sensitive nerves, and her face besides the glow of pink looked pale and perplexed. She thought if she tried to step away she might accidentally or purposely get her silk-like locks entangled in his fist, so made no such steps. The decline of her chin made his inspection of it all the more noticeable. It's getting late.. and dark. Stella finally gave birth to the cumbersome silence, distractedly pointing out the obvious, she did in attempts to warrant his departure. 'A-and I should probably get some sleep. As his fingers gripped her flesh through the thin fabric of her top, Louis could feel her stiffening suddenly in response, and if he had not currently been gripping her shoulders, she might well have shrugged out of his grip from sheer surprise. The tension in her form was obvious to him right away, and out of instinct, she folded her fair, slender arms over her chest. This only served to push her large assets closer together, giving her taller brother an excellent view as he stood behind her, looming large behind her as his fingers wandered along her shoulders and up her neck. Her breath was quicker now, coming in short, shallow gasps that were barely audible, but Louis, by virtue of his close proximity and the attention he was imparting upon her, picked up on it with ease. When she spoke in response to his comment, her voice was cracked and wavering at first, and she had to clear her throat before she could answer him once more. All the while, Louis stared at the reflection of her face in the window, smiling amusedly at her as his fingers ceaselessly massaged the side of her neck, before his digits suddenly found interest in her golden tresses, and his eyes broke the gaze upon her facial features to study the strands trapped between his curious fingers. Even as Louis stood as close behind her body as he was currently doing, even as his fingers quite obviously trespassed within the accepted limits of her personal space, and touched her fair skin and blonde hair, there was no struggle from the young girl, apart from the tension in her muscles as he touched her. She was blushing, as much was apparent, and the tension in her flesh spoke volumes of how she would much rather have been anywhere else right now, instead of alone in the guest room with her host, being physically investigated by her half-brother. And yet, she did not struggle against his touch. To his surprised delight, Stella did not shy away no matter how unwelcome his touch upon her skin was. She bore it in silence, and Louis assumed that her lack of resistance against his touch was in no small part due to the condition of her mother, and a sincere wish not to alienate herself from her family and the aid that they provided for her mother, and by extension, herself. Behind her back, Louis smirked slightly to himself, pleased by the development. If she was concerned for her mother to the point where she would allow a man she had just met, her brother no less, to touch her skin and hair without any fuzz, how much else would she bear without complaint to avoid risking her mother's health? His fingers roamed gently through her golden locks, feeling the softness of the strands, and Louis even lifted a handful of it up to his nose, drawing in a silent breath of her scent. The intake of breath was silent, and yet it felt loud in the silence of the room, only joined by the steady beating of his own heart, and Stella's slightly quicker breath, conveying her anxious state of mind. At last, Stella spoke, and broke the silence that hung like a veil around them, claiming that it was late, and that she needed rest after her ardous journey. Louis smiled, and let the silence hang around them a little longer, unhurriedly withdrawing his nose from her hair, and then at last he let go of her hair. Oh, of course, Louis said, smiling at her in the reflection of the window, though his hand, which had dropped back to her shoulder, didn't withdraw. Make yourself at home, dear sister, he added, with a flourish of his free hand, indicating the large canopy bed and the dresser, next to which stood her luggage. I will have one of the servants call on you for breakfast in the morning. Good night, sister. As he said the last words, Louis suddenly leaned in, over her shoulder, and placed a kiss on her cheek. Then, he turned around, and walked towards the bedroom door, leaving Stella alone with her confusion and her thoughts. Just as she thought he was going to retreat to his bedroom... no, instead he shocked her with giving her cheek a quick kiss. The kiss felt like fire against her already overheated face. Her eyes bludgeoned from their sockets, ponderously roaming to his reflection, and her lips pressed into a tight line. Stella was significantly silent. The entirety of her neat figure expressed extraordinary distress. She watched his tall figure shrink in the window. Once Louis exited the room, Stella obtained the solitude she desired and her eyebrows went from a straight crease to a slightly more relaxed angle. A gasp of air filled her lungs and diffused the tension of the night's air. Oh god, she hoped she would never have to deal with that again. Why did she not say anything? She should have said something. Stella scolded herself on the matter and told herself she was going to speak up. She had decided to confront him. No, not that. It was not as though he was doing something wrong, per say. Ugh. She could not take offense for this uneasy embarrassment, which she did not herself understand. Secretly, she blamed herself. The next time he crossed the line of passively violating her personal space, though, she vowed to verbally express her winding discomfort. That's probably all it would of took for him to realize what he was doing, what he was doing to her. She thought herself a silly, foolish girl for enduring the pantomime of being someone raised with cordial affection. No sooner could she tolerate another reflection such as this. The encounter with her brother seemed to make a considerable first impression on Stella. Despite his evident interest to spend time with her, they were not quick to become friends. And in truth, she was not sure if they were ever going to be. Although, Louis came off as a natural extrovert, that could redeem the tense feeling she felt that said they would not. Before going to bed, she unpacked her belongings, and changed into a mid-thigh, lilac colored slip-gown. Rays of glowing sunrise ascended from the autumn colored horizon and screamed through the wall of extravagant windows. It was earlier than the usual time Stella would awake when she woke from a much needed slumber. She idly wondered what time it was, planting her face in her golden strands that laid dead atop a fluffy, white pillow. It was not as good a sleep as she had hoped, despite the amazing comfort of the over sized bed. There was little doubt that it would not change, after all, this was her first night in a new home. Nerves would take time to getting used to the new scent of lavender fuming from the plush blankets and silk bed sheets, as would with her new, strange brother. Though he was not in the room when she woke, thank goodness--why would be be?, a permanent presence of him lingered and stoked a fear resting dormant beneath her skin. She still felt the trails of his fingers crawling on her. She yawned, letting a low groan from her throat realizing Louis's mention of family breakfast. As encouraging as his words had sounded, as well as terrifying with them. It was going to be an awfully awkward breakfast, most definitely the most cumbersome one of her life. A urge to feign a day of sickness beamed in her mind, but instead she rolled out of the bed and crossed over to the four piece en-suite to shower. When Stella exited the large, double doors the sun had hit the room like a fist. Her beautiful hair was semi-blow dried and reflected off the beam of the rays. A pristine white towel was wrapped over her breasts, shielding her curvaceous form, though it dipped in the back to the small of her back, nicely showcasing the sharp curves of her lean torso. She crossed over to her new dresser, the red carpet was warm beneath her feet. Over the course of the next couple of minutes of deciding what to wear the impending event became more clearer, and there was almost a forced adjust twisting her mouth. Louis's mother, her father, her mother, Louis, Violet... god only knows who else who be at that table, and what, if any words were to be uttered she did not imagine very pleasant ones if Howard's wife was present along with her mother. As his lips gently touched her burning cheek, Louis could feel a sudden rigidity passing through her form in response to his relatively chaste, though still uncommon among siblings, kiss placed upon her skin. He smiled slightly, the two tiers of his lips shifting slightly against her reddened skin, and then he withdrew. By looking in the reflection of the window, Stella would see her brother walking away without looking back, and the sound of the closing door signaled that she was, once again, on her own, with her nervous thoughts. It was not until he had crossed the treshold of the room, and closed the heavy wooden door behind him, that Louis turned and looked at the entrance to the room he had just vacated, a small smile on his lips. That had gone even better than he could have hoped. He had gradually wormed his way within her personal sphere, and with every step, she had seemingly suppressed her instincts to struggle against his approaches. Every time he had invaded her personal space, she had borne his attention in silence, even though her body had silently protested against his touch. Louis was feeling confident as he walked down the richly decorated hallway, crossing the short distance to his own chambers, smiling to himself as he thought of the blonde girl who was presumably making herself at home in her guest room. She was not going to resist him if he kept making little pushes closer to her, he realised, not as long as her mother was receiving treatment at the El'Bridget house. Stella would know that they could not afford the medical bills without the help of her father's family, and that if she spoke out against Louis, it would be her word against his. That was a contest Stella was unlikely to win. At the thought, the young man grinned. If he could edge himself closer to her, when she could not resist him out of fear for her mother's health, he could make his own life heaven while making hers hell, and follow the commands of his own mother, at least in spirit. Still, he had a ways to go, and he was not about to give her too much time to steel herself. Come morning, she would have had time to think, and he was determined to not let her prepare herself for his continued attention. Grinning to himself, Louis stopped outside his own chambers, and then walked away, deciding that he needed to find one of the staff, and set up breakfast plans for the morning. As Stella was getting dressed to face her first morning in a new and unknown mansion, there was a soft knocking on the door, and a moment later, the door was pushed open gently. A young, female face peeked in, around Stella's own age, with midlength, crimson hair and emerald eyes, that were quickly lowered as she noticed the half-dressed woman. My apologies, Ms. Alongrutch, the young woman said, pointedly using the lesser name of the girl before her, despite the fact that her young master had asked her to fetch 'Stella El'Bridget' from her quarters. In the household, it was well-known that Louis' mother utterly loathed the older Alongrutch, and even though the young redhead was primarily tasked to serve the West Wing and Master Louis, she still dreaded incurring the wrath of the Lady of the House. I just came to inform you that Master Louis invites you to break fast with him, the girl said, as she entered and closed the door behind her, her eyes still glued to the expensive carpets beneath her spotless, black shoes, which matched her uniform. Her hands were clasped at her front, as she waited patiently for the blonde woman to come with her, and her posture made it perfectly obvious that she had been instructed to show Stella the way, and that she was not about to disappoint her master or do anything to draw her ire. Stella might not want to dine with Louis, especially considering the fact that the young maid had not mentioned any other names to be present at the meal, but it was clear that the girl would not be leaving the room except in the company of the bastard girl who carried the honourable title of El'Bridget as one of her birth names. As the door opened, it made a swoosh sound, and at once Stella jumped. The towel draped around her figure and dropped a few inches, exposing her curves before she caught it and hastily pulled it back up with a surprised gasp. I-It's fine.. She stumbled over her words, looking at the maid bashfully dipping her head in apologizes. For a fraction of an instant, she thought perhaps it might have been Louis, and was relieved to know it was not. How embarrassingly awkward that would have been. Certainly not something that would disperse the already tense energy between the new siblings. Yes, thank you. I remember. Her shoulders were clutched up to her chin, slender back slightly hunched as she tried to hide her body, expecting her to leave. But she did not make her departure. Instead she waited, making it clear she was going to wait for her. Stella was obscurely offended by the presence of the girl. Such so that she was incapable of expressing it, she could not even find words to purge from her lips, which were almost pursed, almost, though disciplined into not. No matter the invasion inflicted upon her, she was not one to intentionally place discomfort onto another. That was not how her mother raised her. The maid was not leaving, so Stella would have to... she could not change in front of a stranger. She mindlessly plucked a few articles of clothing from the dresser, hugged them at her chest, and scurried over to the bathroom. She turned so quickly and vanished behind the large, wooden bathroom as it came to a close that the young servant girl would not have had time to utter out a single word if she wanted to speak. Admittedly, it left her feeling rather boorish and suddenly longed to apologize for the hasty action. She realized the girl was merely doing her job and figured she had no inkling to the peculiar behavior that Stella mistook it for much like her brother, Louis, she thought with dis positioned apprehension. In no part was it their fault, or even hers, that they were adjusted to different customs. But she was already behind the door. After taking a short time to dress and finish her hair, she stood before the door loomed before her, it was manipulating her not to open it, to just stay behind it and miss breakfast. It was tempting. Was not Stella forced at times to engage in situations as such? Of course she had, and it was always done alone, without such reluctance, though it had never been quite a peculiar and unique situation as this. She did not exactly pride herself of her independence, as now it caused her to regret the intrusions of doubt. At least she had the idea she was going to get to see her mother, she was happy about that and wanted to know how her first night here went. Stella emerged from the bathroom, her attire reflected that independent demeanor. She wore a above the knee, celestial blue halter sundress, the neckline appeared almost square and accented with a frill, the straps were wide and wrapped over her collarbones to around her neck. A long-sleeved loose flowing white shrug provided proper coverage, while the cut did not hide her shape. On both feet she wore ballet flats, similar to the back ones she wore yesterday, though they were white and had a slightly pointed toe. Okay. Her voice could be heard again, as though signaling that she was ready to the girl whom she felt some obstruction. In case, she added, I'm ready. and smiled politely as she neared toward her with intent to follow. Then quietly felt obligated to offer, It's nice to meet you. Have you worked here long, do you like working for the family? It would not be until they exited that the words the girl announced earlier would come to thought. They were muddied from the action of intrusion and she could not remember word for word what she said. It sounded as though she only mentioned Louis, but perhaps it was Louis was the one who sent for her, or she misheard. The sound of the bathroom door closing alerted the maid to the fact that Stella had retreated to the bathroom rather than staying around and getting dressed in front of her, despite the lowered eyes of the redhaired girl. The maid raised her gaze briefly to glance at the door, to confirm that she was for now alone in the bedroom area of the suite, but she just as quickly lowered her eyes again, determined not to slip up in how she behaved. She was aware that Stella was not like the rest of the El'Bridget family, but she could not know that she wouldn't scrutinise the staff jut as thoroughly, and the girl was not about to give her anything to complain about. So she kept her eyes down, and waited patiently for the other girl to join her once again. The young, redhaired girl was still waiting patiently as Stella came out of the bathroom, now dressed in a suitable fashion for the prospect of having breakfast with her half-brother. The redhead's emerald eyes remained downcast until the blonde girl spoke up, telling her that she was ready for the first meal of the day, and only then did the maid lift her gaze, though she did not meet Stella's eyes. If you would follow me, Ms. Alongrutch, she said softly, with a gentle flourish of her hand, as she opened the door and held it open for Stella, her head lowered just enough to be respectful, without seeming overly eager to serve. Again, she did not want to earn the ire of the Lady of the House by seeming to eager to serve the Master's bastard daughter. Though she was new, she had picked up on the dangers of getting on Mrs. El'Bridget's bad side quick enough. As Stella walked out the door from the room that would serve as her quarters for the foreseeable future, the redhaired maid followed her out and closed the door gently behind herself, before motioning for the blonde to follow her as she lead the way down the hall, in the opposite direction of where Stella had come from the other night. This meant that rather than heading in the direction of the entrance and the rest of the mansion, the two young women were heading further into the West Wing, the part of the mansion that served Louis and his true-blooded sister. The maid glanced back at the young lady as she spoke her questions softly, her voice barely audible, and the redhaired servant inclined her head softly in response to Stella's greeting words, as if the small motion of her head would let her get away with not saying more than necessary, a fear of seeming to friendly with the bastard girl still at the forefront of her mind. A little over two weeks, Ms. Alongrutch. It is an honour to serve such a distinguished family, she offered quietly, the neutral tone of her voice clarifying in no uncertain terms whether she believed Stella belonged in such distinguished company. Luckily, before either of them could pose any more words that might make the walk even more awkward and uncomfortable, they reached a pair of large double doors, and the maid pushed one of the doors open, before motioning for the blonde lady to enter ahead of her. As Stella entered, she would find a richly decorated dining area, with a pair of gleaming chandeliers, and an impressively decorated stone fireplace in the center of one of the walls, the opposite wall lined with large windows through which the mid-morning sun shone brightly. The rays of sun that stretched along the soft carpets almost reached the table that stood in the center of the room, though it was obvious from the size of the room that a larger dining table would usually occupy the space. The dining table that had been laid out at the moment was very small, likely only able to seat six guests in total along its circumference, but now it was only laid out for two. Two supremely carved wooden chairs with high backs had been pulled up to the table, on each long side, making it seem more like a romantic date than a breakfast shared between siblings, and several waiters stood on hand, sharply dressed and with cloths over their lower arm, ready to serve Stella and the man she would break fast with. Speaking of the young Master of the House, Louis stood by one of the chairs, and he smiled warmly at Stella as she was bid to enter by the maid, and no sooner had she entered before the maid closed the door behind her back, clearly prefering not to be in the presence of the male El'Bridget. Louis simply smiled, and approached Stella if she would not walk towards the table of her own accord. As they came within arm length of one another, he would grasp her hand gently, though once more there was a hint of forcefulness in the way he held her dainty fingers, and brought her hand up so he could kiss it. Good morning, dear sister, he spoke softly as his lips parted from the fair skin of her hand, his eyes holding hers like a mountain lion gazing upon a doe, and his lips curved slightly in a smile. I hope you've had a good rest? The words were gentle and curious, what seemed like genuine interest in his chestnut eyes as he held her gaze, waiting to hear her angel's voice that he had longed for all night. His hand, meanwhile, still held hers in a light but uncompromising grip, giving her no chance of backing away, and it would be clear to the young girl that she was once more trapped with her brother, a man whose intentions she had little chance of deciphering at the moment. There was a part of Stella that was hoping for some extent of insight of the family, more in particular, her brother. But the redhead girl was vague and strange in her response, giving a sense that she did not in fact want to answer her at all and had only done so out of her position, and that once again refreshed the welcome air that Stella was being forced to breathe. No information other than her short lived time here of two weeks, it would serve no use for any further gentle probing, she was too new to truly know anything of importance. At least that was what Stella had thought as she looked at the stringy, red strands of the maid's hair that floated from left to right. Her thoughts traced back to her mother and could not wait to get to spend time with her after 'family' breakfast she was excited and smiled that she would get to see the room where her Mother would be staying. As long as she focused on that during this, she would be able to get through it, she was sure. Suddenly, they stopped as she turned to a set of doors to open them. Perhaps her pace had quickened in efforts to avoid forced chatter, or was the room closer than Stella would have initially guessed? One thing was certain, the redhead did not like her. The maid motion for her to enter, and she did. Stella's appearance had undergone a complete drop since she seen Louis, and only Louis. Where was everyone else? She wondered, then having seen the table set up for two it became obvious there would no one else. Her eyes that were arched, dropped slightly while she questioningly peered around. A feeling of had been hoodwinked cast upon her. The surprise in that showed no vacant in her slightly enlarged orbs. Slam. The door abruptly closed behind her, drawing her attention with a flick her head. Her escort had departed in a noticeable haste. She found it suspicious. And thought perhaps there might be something more going on between Louis and the redhead? It was none of her business. Redirecting her attention to the front of her, Louis was closer. She seemed to be shrinking with each step that closed the distance between them. Instinctively, her elbows twitched back at his out reach for her hand, in remembrance of his not-so-gentle grasps. A strong hand caught hers and she watched it being strained up to his lips and bid her a good morning. Out of her polite nature, she smiled and declined her head in acknowledgement that she heard him. At that moment Stella lightly tugged with a consistent weight, urging him to release her hand, but not in a direction that implied an order. Their eyes meet. Her heart multiplied in beats. Stella hastily turned her eyes off to the right and dropped them to the floor. She was not sure how she should feel about the way he stared at her. From the hunt in his eyes she very much felt like the target of some game. A game of which Stella had no inkling, nor consent, of participating. She would not draw her eyes to his again. He would win that game, and in hope that her playing along with it would settle appeasement in her brother, Louis, to get him to just stop staring at her the way he was. As though he regarded her as having done something easy. It was not at all comforting. She wanted him to stop, even though there was not really not much that he was doing that would be of notice to anyone else. Stella most definitively noticed. Her lips parted with anticipation, with intention to speak, but there was suddenly a thickness swelling and blocking her windpipe. Her lips closed as her doe eyes shifted over to the left and tried to swallow whatever it was. Again they parted, tongue sliding across to slightly wet them, leaving the center with a shine and inhaled to make sure there would be no further interfere with her speech. Her chest raised as she successfully inhaled a lung full. Well. I slept fine. Thanks. She curiously inquired without pause of breath, Is no one else not joining us? and sounded as though she would much less not join herself if there were no one else. As the door shut audibly behind Stella's back, Louis gave a brief glance in the direction of the wooden barrier, noting that the redhaired maid had left without his express permission. Granted, she was fairly new to the household, and seemed to be a little skittish around him still, but that was no reason for her to act like she had. Louis made a mental note to himself to discipline the maid in question properly for her transgression at a later time, but at the moment he had a much more pleasant matter to attend to. His gaze shifted from the door to the young, golden-haired woman standing before it, and he smiled warmly at her as he approached, his hand gently seizing hers. Just like the night before, he could feel the struggle against his grip as he pulled her dainty hand towards his lips. Her resistance was not an active one, but he could still feel it just below the surface. At least at first, but as he parted the touch of his lips against her skin, she gave a little tug, trying to pull her hand back to join its twin, which was folded protectively over her chest. He let her have control of her limb once more, though only after a little while of maintaining his grip, showing her implicitly that he was the one who allowed her to withdraw her hand. Still, even with her small show of resistance against his touch, her eyes were cast aside and down, not brave enough to meet his gaze, and her lips remained sealed. Despite her small tug against his possessive grip, it seemed that she still maintained her policy of appeasement when it came to confronting her obvious uneasiness with the attention she was given from her half-brother. For some situations, the path of less resistance was often a wise choice, but not in a situation like this, where she was faced with someone possessing a strong will and clear personal goals, who shunned no means for gaining what he felt was rightfully his. Each time she let him do as he wished without voicing a challenge to his actions, she simply confirmed to him that she would not resist when push came to shove, and Louis only became more certain that he could hold her in the palm of his hand soon enough. She inquired then, her voice sounding slightly breathless, as to whether they would be accompanied in their breaking of the fast by anyone else in the household, and Louis smiled slightly, thinking that the layout of the table should already have given her the idea of what was going on. Apparently not. The medical staff informed me that your mother would need to rest and quiet for a few days, and my parents are otherwise too busy to accompany us today, he lied smoothly. Truth be told, no one had said that Stella's mother could not accept visitors, only that she should not strain herself, and walking across the large mansion to the West Wing was going to take a bit of effort, so she was unlikely to disturb them. Similarly, his parents usually ate their breakfast in the North Wing, and though Louis would often join them, today he had informed them that he was busy. Smiling warmly and expectantly at her, Louis walked over to one of the intricately carved, high-back chairs, and pulled it out for her, making no suggestion of moving until she would come over and sit down, at which point he would push the chair in so that the high armrests and the table effectively pinned her in place, allowing her no movement without having to push the chair back. You must be hungry, dear sister, he said calmly, regarding her with that familiar, slightly amused gaze, as he walked around the small table and seated himself, before motioning to the waiters. The men stepped forward, placing a sizeable feast upon the table between them eggs of various types, cured and spiced meats, cheeses, course and fine bread, pastries and jams, as well as milk and orange juice in fine glass mugs. Once they had placed the abundance of food before the two teenagers, the men stepped back with a bow, and after a nod from Louis, the servants retreated calmly from the room, leaving Louis and Stella alone. He motioned with a hand towards the food before them, smiling at her as he watched her with that familiar, slightly possessive gaze. Eat, he suggested to her, kind of needlessly as there was nothing else to do with the food placed before them. I will be honest with you, dear sister, Louis said suddenly a few moments later, his hands folded and his chin resting upon his hands, as he watched her calmly from across the table, a small, knowing smile creasing his lips. Not everyone feels that you are welcome here, unfortunately, he continued, and to Stella the likely identity of the person who loathed her presence was bound to be obvious. Louis confirmed her suspicion a moment later, as he continued with his speech, his food remaining untouched before him. My mother wants both you and your mother gone, but as long as she is the only one who thinks this, she will not get her will. However, Louis' voice took on a note of warning, even as the small smile on his face widened by a fraction. If my mother was to gain support in her sentiment from other family members, even my father would have to concede to her demand. There, at last, was the central point of Louis' argumentation. There were four El'Bridget family members in the mansion, not counting Stella herself, and while her father was happy to have her and her mother present, Louis' mother was not, while Louis himself and his true-blooded sister were both on the fence for now, having not declared their opinion either way. If Stella wanted the support of Louis in allowing her mother to stay and receive the medical assistance she sorely needed, she would have to stay on his good side, and the young heir of the family was well aware of this, if his smile was to be any judge. It was an agonizing moment that dragged with his purposeful authority until he finally allowed her reigns to her hand. She put it to her chest with the other hand and clutched it to herself knowing it was hers again. Finally, she looked to him only to look away from hearing the vocal affirmations that indeed no one else would be joining them, and mainly because she was upset to hear she would not be able to see her mother for a few days. She noticed his shadow was gone from her personal space and looked up to see him expectantly waiting for her to sit in the chair he held out for her. There were other people in the room and wanted no scampering rumors floating midst the staff if she fussed with an excuse to leave, so she reluctantly crossed to the chair and sat, placing her hands folded at her lap and held the dress to keep it in place, thinking if nothing else at least the butlers were going to be here and she would not have to be alone with him again. Thank you. said Stella lowly in a passive voice. While he was behind her she at once felt the way she had the night before when he loomed behind her and strangely lifted finger fulls of her hair to his face. Her shoulders inclined with a chill and stiffly flinched her head to the right, then to the left to watch if he was coming for her hair. The back of the chair was unusually high and he pushed it in forward... rather pushed her against the table and the chair behind her. She stilled, as though assuming he would notice and assist in restoring some room in her seat for her. But was only restored with that same gaze she wished he would stop, as he took his own seat across the table. Something was not right in the air. It smelled of hazard. And was forever awkward. There was something... something peculiar about her brother that she could not quite put her finger on. She recalled the haste of the redhead maids departure and drew a conclusion that part of it was Louis shoveled an initial stand-off impression to people he would just meet. The butlers dressed the table with breakfast and filled their cups, after Louis blithely fluttered his hand in the air that signaled the staff to leave. Dismayed, Stella could not help but to stare with a tense chest as they all left, one by one. They were alone now. He suddenly began to speak again with the weave of mock in his tone of voice. It was as though the Earth itself had come to a stand still for only these two so attention to details could be drawn to that fact. Blunt words rolled casually and too calm from his lips that hit her harshly. Stella became dejected and more anxious. Though it was clear she was tentatively listening, her eye contact was shifty, shifting the tension of her discomfort to elevate. What exactly did he mean by that, she questioned to herself, knowing it was said for a reason, and she already had a good idea that his passive-aggressive actions were not by any means passive, no matter if she badly wanted to think otherwise. It was difficult to judge at a glance, so she carefully cast her eyes to settle on him through her dark, rich lashes she blinked and found the way he regarded her as though searching and pondering for something, and the smile twitched on his lips portrayed the eerie confidence in his patience. She did not know for what. Strangely, she almost deliberately did not care to know, or want to. If the offer for her and her mother's stay were to be retracted they would have no place to go and lack the urgent medical care her mother required. This new brother of hers had spoke indirectly, implying a expectation of some sort. She seen her situation so very clearly, though was unconscious of the extent he seen his. She already experienced the fate of not being entirely welcome here on numerous occasions during her short time here. Stella realized she may had not come across as very nice to him either. At first her nerves might had made her seem this way, but rather than shrinking her nerves were made worse by her brother's bizarre behaviors. And she thought her non-verbal communications would suffice to have got that across to him, though seemed only to encourage it- even currently. He might had only said what he did to try to encourage her to be more cordial with him. If he expected something in return for being a nice person... he was not a nice person, even if just a friendship. However, she planned to be more social, though found herself momentarily incapable of considering just what to say to the bold words he just spoke. His presence broke her concentration. Her eyes left his as she declined her chin and stared at the insignificant spot of space between her torso and the table much resembled to her position in this situation. Despite the doubts she felt toward a friendship blossoming with Louis, she still had no choice but to try and force it. We don't want to cause any trouble. And do not mean to have caused any. she assured nervously with a shake of her golden locks following the motion of her head. My mother and I will keep to ourselves. We have no intentions of harming your family. she added gratefully, having thought he might had also meant it as a warning not to sling any form of slander or stir anything in regards to the El'Bridget family and the public. Stella snaked her right arm from the narrow opening and reached for her glass of orange juice to quench her throat and politely inquired, So.. I hear you're a limiter..? eyes never leaving the rim of the glass, even as she bought it to her lips and begun to sip. The proximity of the table made it awkwardly so. A shuttering gasp exploded in her mouth. The cup suddenly slipped from her slender digits, cascading the orange juice over her exposed chest, naturally flowing toward the center of her bit of cleavage, wetting and darkening some areas of her blue dress, as the chill to her flesh made her flex back to stand, only to had been trapped, her spine shot straight up instead. The cup could be heard clattering on the floor after the sound of Stella's other hand hit into the under side of the table in a failed haste attempt to catch it. She grabbed the napkin by her plate and hurried it to her chest, Sorry. I'm sorry. and exhaled, working on bringing her left hand from beneath the table. I'll clean it up. How embarrassing, she could not believe she just did that. At least the cup did not contain much of the liquid. Once they had finished their duty of serving the food to their master and his guest, the staff were quick to make themselves scarce. Louis had declared his desire to be alone with his half-sister to get to know her in a private setting, and he had made it perfectly clear to the servants that they were not to be disturbed. The staff who had been there long enough to see Louis' moods knew how vital it was to follow his orders to the letter, and they would rein in the newer and more inexperienced staff, in case any of them would decide to disturb the master for any reason, knowing that his ire could spread to include them all if they went against him. Stella could not be expected to know about the mixed reputation Louis held among the serving staff, but she did not need to to feel uncomfortable in her current situation. Her discomfort was plain to see, as she barely spoke to him except when spoken to, and her eyes were constantly traversing the area of the room, pointedly avoiding looking at her brother in fear of what she would find in his eyes. Similarly, her food remained untouched before her, and she had only deigned herself to pour a small glass of fresh orange juice. As he began to speak to her, however, he felt her gaze drift in his direction, and she met his eyes through the curtain of her dark lashes. Her slowly blinking eyes reminded him so much of a doe staring into the headlights of a car an innocent, beautiful creature, completely unaware of the danger she was in, how much he could do to her if she would only let him, and he knew that with her current situation, she could not afford not to follow his every wish. She gave him a nervous, hesitating assurance that she meant to cause no trouble for him or his family, and he couldn't help but give her a small smile. He found it amusing that she took his words to heart, that she actually believed that he might suspect her of being a troublemaker. He knew she wasn't she was a very typical good-girl, the talented school queen, the innocent, pristine young woman. He just longed to corrupt her, to show his mother that the girl who dared to take on their name would not be allowed to do as he pleased. He could follow the spirit of his mother's words, and still enjoy the benefits of having such a beautiful, innocent half-sister. She wouldn't cause any trouble, he knew, and that meant she would not speak against him. She couldn't, not with her beloved mother's health on the line. You have caused no trouble, he said amiably and with a tone of amusement, an unspoken yet lingering in the brief silence that followed his statement, before his lips curled slightly in a small smile, and he lifted a cup of tea to his lip, taking a long, languid sip of the hot liquid, before he lowered it back to the saucer. And I sincerely do not think you are planning to cause any, dear sister, he said. Was there a ghost of a threat in that tone? A suggestion that she would comply with everything he wished of her if she wanted to stay, with all the benefits her mother gained from it? It seemed that she was at least going to try to put herself in his good graces, as she lifted her glass of orange juice, and posed a polite and casual question in his direction, but whatever answer he had been inclined to provide her disappeared from the tip of his tongue as there was a sudden, surprised gasp from the young lady across from him, and a clatter as the container fell noisily to the floor. The vibrantly coloured juice had spilled over her white blouse and the ample bosom beneath, and Louis' eyes followed a few droplets as they ran down her flawless skin, into the great and shadowed valley of her chest. Allow me, Louis said as he rose, easily pushing back the chair as he was not sitting as constricted as Stella was, and he crossed around the table in a few steps, while she was struggling with bringing up her left hand. Gripping a napkin from the table, Louis was completely unabashed as he suddenly slid the napkin into the cleavage of his half-sister, attempting to catch the orange droplets before they ran into the depths of her bosom where he could not readily reach. It was a lost effort, but Stella would feel the warmth of his hand gliding along the upper ends of her sizeable globes. You've made a bit of a mess of your dress, Stella, he commented calmly with a light chuckle, withdrawing the napkin only after taking a bit of time to run the paper over her smooth, fair skin. Wait here, and I will have someone bring over a new outfit for you, Louis offered with that tell-tale smile of his, and before Stella would have the chance to protest, to claim that she could make her way back to her quarters on her own, Louis was already making his way over to the door. He opened it slightly ajar, and spoke to someone who were apparently standing just outside of the room, loud enough for Stella to hear his message to the servant. Please fetch the outfit I had prepared for my dear sister. It is in my chamber, Louis said, and then closed the door, turning back towards his sister with a satisfied smile. CENTER