Victor has never felt much, he's almost as empty as a blank canvas half the time, or easily annoyed as a hot chili pepper. Never in his life has his palms sweated, his ears rang, his heart murmurs, and his breath almost gets knocked out of him, but here is his, eyeing up and down--a man, mind you--who presents himself almost inhumane like, almost angelic like.
"I finally see your face," Victor said, staring wide-eyed at the chained man. "A pleasant surprise."
Venice looks up, staring up at Victor, a sudden flush to his cheeks as he watches as Victor steps closer, kneeling down to examine Venice face more closely. Victor examine's Venice's handsome face, the small scar that attires his nose, the large, dark birthmark that covers his muscular arm, the soft freckles on his cheeks and mountains of scars on his body. This man--he--he is as beautiful as any rumored holy entity that Victor's heard of.
"For a man whose reputation is stained of so much blood," Victor said, "you sure act much more docile than rumored. Is it because you are afraid?"
Venice does not react, he just forces his eyes on the ground, flinching when Victor inches closer.
"Look at me." Victor said, focusing his ruby eyes on the man. He takes his pale hand and reaches for Venice's chin, lifting his face to stare down at the man. Venice, at first, keeps his eyes locked to the prison's floor, before, finally, he looks up, his green eyes focused on Victor's ruby ones, and Victor feels odd emotions run through him, his dormant heart slowly starts to beat and rumble in his chest, and he's not sure why.
"I'll come visit you tomorrow," Victor said, hurrying to look away, lifting himself up from his crotched position to stare down at Venice. "Maybe then you'll be ready to talk."
Victor turns away, but suddenly his eyes breach him, wondering behind him to see Venice hold himself, lean his head against the cell's corner, his muscular body looking so small as he shivers.
Victor gulps, feeling a weird sense of dread wash subtlely through his body before he walks forward, waiting for the knight guard to open the prison's door and to close it shut when Victor exits.
"Why must you be so reckless?" Ron huffs out, following Victor as he heads towards the exit. "He is a dangerous man. You should never be left alone with him."
"Unless he is an extremely good actor," Victor said, "I'm not too sure about that."
Victor and Ron make it to the dungeon's door before Victor suddenly stops, turning his head to the knight guard.
"I'll be back same time tomorrow," Victor said, ignoring Ron's protest. "That is all."
Victor briskly walks past Ron, who closely follows behind.
"Your Highness! That is not a good idea! Not at all!" Ron said, "Plus, you do have lunch with your fiancé! Did you forget?"
Victor rolls his eyes. "I will handle that, happy?" Victor said, already feeling his left cheek hurting from the upcoming slap Brielle will land.
...
The next day Victor wakes up early-earlier than he's ever had, mainly because no matter the task or importance, Victor refuses to wake up earlier to do anything, yet today, today is different.
He rings the bell near his bed side, not even batting an eye when the maids scurry inside, surprised to see their master awake and not groggy. Victor only rolls his eyes, standing up and following the motions as the maids scurry to undress him, wash him, and prep him for the day.
Victor bristles down the long steps near his room leading down to the main floor. He heads to the door, soon hearing a heavy, hurried clack of brand new shoes hit the floor and head to him.
"Hurry," it's Ron who speaks, grabbing Victor's arm and making a break to the direction of the dining hall, "Your fiancé is waiting at the dining hall. Please tell her you'll be canceling your plans together. I refuse to be involved in this-in this blasphemy!"
"Isn't that your job?" Victor mumbles, but he lets himself get dragged to the dining hall, where he greets the maid and butler staff with a curt nod and slides in the white and blue themed dining room, watching Brielle through the glass table as she picks up a tea cup and takes a sip of tea, her sharp dark pink eyes closed as she enjoys her tea.
Victor watches as Brielle's shoulder's hunch at the sound of his footsteps, her long, red hair moving as she slightly turns her head.
"Good morning, my love." Brielle said, smiling while she takes another sip of tea, "your early today. Quite unusual."
"I have a busy day." Victor said, "I wish to skip the breakfast formalities, seemingly as you always end up sneaking into my house and ordering my staff around. I will be busy this afternoon, so our plans together must be canceled-."
Victor expected the slamming of Brielle's hands on the glass table, the abrupt dropping of her tea cup, spilling its liquid all over the table, and he definitely expected the hard slap of Brielle's hand hitting his left cheek as Brielle grits her teeth, anger coursing through her eyes.
"I wouldn't have to do no such thing," Brielle said, "if you made any slight effort to invite me-or to see me. I've been your fiancé for years. You try dealing with your coldness."
Victor sighs, waving Ron off as he makes his way over. Victor turns away from Brielle, shoving his pale hands in his pocket as he disinterestedly looks away.
"You always have the option to break off things with me," Victor said, "but I assume you will not. I'll see you another time."
Victor ignores Brielle's loud yelling as he briskly walks out the dining hall and past Ron.
"I'll be catching up on work in my study." Victor said, "Please tell them to bring my breakfast there."