I have a hitlist, and at the very top is my dear sister Anne, for crimes against the heart.
…Not really.
But it is quite frustrating that Viktor had already seen himself out by the time I'd finally been free to search for him again.
Maybe that part was for the best, though. It's not like I could come back and say 'now where were we' after breaking that moment.
I might be easily carried away and giddy, but I'm not quite that out of touch with reality! And - well. More importantly, I'm sure Viktor, the quiet, demure, shy Viktor simply wouldn't appreciate something so forward from someone he knew so little.
I haven't lost sight of the fact that while I adore him he barely knows me.
I smile to myself as I lay back in my bed and stare at the velvet…thing that goes over four poster beds. I never needed to look up the word for that thing before, as I never even briefly imagined living in a situation where I'd own one.
It's truly hard to reconcile just how different Ophelia's life is from Adelaide's. Even in the early days…well, there was no magic chemistry moments with Adelaide's husband. No stories of romantic constellations.
This life…Ophelia's life…is different. And I like that.
Maybe it's time I can tell him I'm his admirer? We hit it off so well at the ball, after all. The last thing I want is to be competing with myself. I can't imagine Viktor would enjoy the unnecessary stress from such a situation, either.
My heart races as I roll to the side, biting my nail. I can't rush things. I'm not Eileen, things won't just fall into me lap. Even Eileen took time to win him over.
I have the advantage of knowing exactly what to do and say, but…still. I can't get carried away.
I nod to myself and sit up.
Fruit.
I can buy fruit. Viktor likes fruit, so I can buy a nice basket for him. That can break the ice!
I leap out of bed with renewed determination, running past a surprised Nessa to find my handmaid so I can be ready for a quick outing.
I run around the corner and crash right into a servant.
The man yelps as a tray of fine linens flies through the air. My brain can process only two things. The first, is that I feel absolutely mortified at the clumsy behavior.
The second, is that it looks like my face is going to land on top of the bony man and I squeeze my eyes shut and brace myself for impact.
Thankfully, that does not happen, as a firm set of hands wraps around me and pulls me back to a standing position, holding me close.
My eyes open in a hurry.
The man who caught me, and saved me, is looking at me with a mixture of exasperation and amusement, a single eyebrow raised.
...I have...the very strong urge to slap myself in the face. Because I must be dreaming. Otherwise why would Viktor be in my house? Standing here? Looking so damn gorgeous?
It can only be a dream.
I close my eyes and let out a frustrated sigh as I pinch my cheek.
"If you keep injuring yourself in my presence I'll be the one to pinch your cheek. Hard."
That doesn't seem very dreamy. My eyes fly open. "You're really here??"
"Indeed." His expression turns wry, though it seems not to be specifically directed toward me. "I was called for my expertise on something your family doctor desired a second opinion on."
I can't help a giddy smile and bounce on my toes. "Ahaha...really? I...just never imagined I'd see you here. What luck!"
Viktor's brow knits in puzzlement, and he reaches up, pinching my cheek and twisting it ever so slightly.
My eyes water slightly from the unexpected assault. I give a helpless squawk and wriggle in protest. "Why are you punishing me?! I haven't injured myself again!"
His gaze meets mine, and even as my eyes water I can't help but hold his gaze. His voice is matter of fact.
"It's advanced punishment for future injuries." His voice lowers and I feel the timbre of it go through me, an involuntary shudder shaking me to my core. "Or do I need to leash you to make sure you don't cause yourself any more harm?"
His hand is still firmly grasping my cheek. It feels very warm, and there's the barest hint of callouses. The touch of it makes my stomach knot and flip pleasantly.
"...Viktor..."
He gives my cheek one last tug before releasing it with a mischievous smile, as if he enjoyed seeing me struggle and fumble.
"...Please try not to be injured in my absence, alright? I'm beginning to become anxious when you're not around you're still injuring yourself somehow."
I flush a vibrant shade of red. "I'm...not...always doing this!"
A bemused smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. "Really? From my understanding it's becoming an unfortunate trend for you to encounter trouble and harm."
I purse my lips, and say as evenly as I can, "Only when you're around, Viktor."
A faint flush blossoms on his cheeks. His eyes dart away from me as he clears his throat and gives a slight incline of his head.
"...Is that so, now. How mortifying. A doctor causing harm to a patient...most shameful indeed."
He takes a step back, looking off to the side. There's a distracted air about him, but I can't tell what's caused it.
"I...should be off, though, miss. My visit has run a bit over time and I've taken a bit longer to be properly introduced and consulted due to some...unfortunate delays. I can't neglect my schedule any further, so I must be on my way."
I blanch, and before I know what I'm doing my fingers have wrapped themselves around the edge of his sleeve.
He looks at me in surprise. I should feel mortified by this display, but the sight of him in front of me, real and not a figment of my imagination, has left me spellbound and hungry. "Stay, please."
The flush on his face grows.
"I...cannot stay, I am afraid," he responds, his voice faintly raspy, as if something caught in his throat. His expression is distant. His green eyes meet mine for the briefest of moments.
The air is tense around us. The silence stretches out for an eternity as my fingers stay wound tightly to his coat, as if I could physically tie him in place and make him stay.
Eventually he manages to extricate himself from my grasp, a bemused smile on his face, a hint of wistfulness to the curl of his lips. "I hope to see you again soon, miss."
His footsteps echo in my mind as he walks out the door.
The moment the door closes I throw my head in my hands and let out an inhuman, long whine of frustration.
The servant I'd crashed into quietly gathers up the linen scattered on the ground and scurries away.
I should feel embarrassed at that. But all I can think of is the distance between us. And how I didn't want him to leave.
There was nothing stopping me from leaving to chase him down right now. And I consider that seriously for several minutes before deciding not to.
It's a nice romantic gesture, to be sure...but we're still so early in our courtship...so early it's not even being called that! He might react poorly to the presumptuous nature of the action.
And that, I fear, would be disastrous for my efforts.
No, no. There is no rush. There's still nearly three years until the start of the game.
...Three years.
We'll be in love long before that.
Long before Eileen can even think about picking a route.