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Description

"Now, Phoebe. You can't sleep just yet, don't you still want to see it to the end?"

L U L L A B Y

Sacheverell retreated to his archives, forgetting what made him leave it in the first place;
regretting even leaving in the first place.
He slowly walked towards his study desk, counting how many shelves he's passed, a number he has memorized by now.

"Sache, Sache! Let's play a game~"
He could still remember the little girl, only reaching up to his legs, as she tugged on his sleeves whenever he fell asleep on the library. He would smile and give her a pat on the head, "how about I read you a story instead?"

He picked up a book and tucked her in. "Once upon a time," almost all stories began the same way and as the ending neared he would hear her yawn. Before the little girl was able to close her eyes shut, her brother would pat her sleepy head softly.

"Now, Phoebe. You can't sleep just yet, don't you still want to see it to the end?"

And as the curtains came to close, he carried the little girl and sang to her the same lullaby his mother taught him.

"but not once, did she sing for you." It struck him silly, how a mother who had such a beautiful singing voice refuse to sing to her husband and daughter...was there something mother didn't tell me?

And for as long as they were in the mansion, these were one of the few things he had to keep to himself. And he finally understood why of all colors, he could only see hues in red.

The young man continued on his desk. He unlocked the bottom drawer with a small silver key, bringing out a leather-bound black book with a name was inscribed at the bottom. Sacheverell II

♠

She was..crying.
It reminded him of the frail child who could barely walk when their mother left,
she cried that day, too.
And there wasn't anything he could do for her.

Out of all the things that made her cry...
this time, he did it.

He tried pacing closer towards the young lady, but she kept backing away.
"I'm...sorry."
His voice was cracking,
he didn't know what to do.

But when the distance between him and her became too much,
naturally,
she drifted even further away.

She ran away from his direction, and he wanted to follow her,
but what could he do to make her feel better?

It only striked him then, that there was nothing he could do, again.
"I'm sorry."
he felt a streak of tear flow down his cheek, then the other.
And he just stood there, uncertainty and guilt knocking at his chest.
"I'm sorry."
he repeated the words to himself, as if it would change everything back.

But he made a promise.
"Take care of your sister."
He could still hear his mother plead to him...
a good few moments before
they disappeared.

But he just stood there, for what felt like forever.
Time may feel inexistent,
they always had too much of time in this place,
but of all infinities,
this felt like the longest he's had in his borrowed life.
"Phoebe..." he called out her name, not knowing what else he should say.
"I'm sorry."

♠

M D C C X C I X

The milady, with her graying hair, approached the young man whose face was exactly as she remembered him many, many years ago. "Sacheverell, are you certain you wouldn't mind to be referred as such?"

The lean man nodded once, just as silent as he used to be...just as silent as he were now.

She began humming a certain tune; a song about the dying stars. "Madame, you have a very beautiful voice," he looked up from his book and smiled at the woman. She has not seen this smile in so long.

He looked exactly the same way he did when she first met his eyes at the Abbey.
"Pleasure to be of your acquaintance, your higness."
He smiled, his pale blue eyes reflected serenely against the tranquil yellow daylight as she stood next to her king.
"His highness is truly fortunate." He said of her presence,
and her heart wavered.

For a second she forgot how long time had passed for them both,
and that he wasn't him.

Water started forming at the woman's wrinkled eyes.

"Call me mother."

♠

Word count: 732 Words

woopwoop a bit more background reveal I guess
I intended to write more for the above but a gigantic block has hovered on my head; art block and writers block both
which has apparently also resulted into a v cry-worthy attempt at drawin roses
now to make sonson's chapter four entry-//rolls awEIII

---

Phoebe Gueroust (c) tashaj4de
Sacheverell Gueroust (c) moi

Description

"Now, Phoebe. You can't sleep just yet, don't you still want to see it to the end?"

L U L L A B Y

Sacheverell retreated to his archives, forgetting what made him leave it in the first place;
regretting even leaving in the first place.
He slowly walked towards his study desk, counting how many shelves he's passed, a number he has memorized by now.

"Sache, Sache! Let's play a game~"
He could still remember the little girl, only reaching up to his legs, as she tugged on his sleeves whenever he fell asleep on the library. He would smile and give her a pat on the head, "how about I read you a story instead?"

He picked up a book and tucked her in. "Once upon a time," almost all stories began the same way and as the ending neared he would hear her yawn. Before the little girl was able to close her eyes shut, her brother would pat her sleepy head softly.

"Now, Phoebe. You can't sleep just yet, don't you still want to see it to the end?"

And as the curtains came to close, he carried the little girl and sang to her the same lullaby his mother taught him.

"but not once, did she sing for you." It struck him silly, how a mother who had such a beautiful singing voice refuse to sing to her husband and daughter...was there something mother didn't tell me?

And for as long as they were in the mansion, these were one of the few things he had to keep to himself. And he finally understood why of all colors, he could only see hues in red.

The young man continued on his desk. He unlocked the bottom drawer with a small silver key, bringing out a leather-bound black book with a name was inscribed at the bottom. Sacheverell II

♠

She was..crying.
It reminded him of the frail child who could barely walk when their mother left,
she cried that day, too.
And there wasn't anything he could do for her.

Out of all the things that made her cry...
this time, he did it.

He tried pacing closer towards the young lady, but she kept backing away.
"I'm...sorry."
His voice was cracking,
he didn't know what to do.

But when the distance between him and her became too much,
naturally,
she drifted even further away.

She ran away from his direction, and he wanted to follow her,
but what could he do to make her feel better?

It only striked him then, that there was nothing he could do, again.
"I'm sorry."
he felt a streak of tear flow down his cheek, then the other.
And he just stood there, uncertainty and guilt knocking at his chest.
"I'm sorry."
he repeated the words to himself, as if it would change everything back.

But he made a promise.
"Take care of your sister."
He could still hear his mother plead to him...
a good few moments before
they disappeared.

But he just stood there, for what felt like forever.
Time may feel inexistent,
they always had too much of time in this place,
but of all infinities,
this felt like the longest he's had in his borrowed life.
"Phoebe..." he called out her name, not knowing what else he should say.
"I'm sorry."

♠

M D C C X C I X

The milady, with her graying hair, approached the young man whose face was exactly as she remembered him many, many years ago. "Sacheverell, are you certain you wouldn't mind to be referred as such?"

The lean man nodded once, just as silent as he used to be...just as silent as he were now.

She began humming a certain tune; a song about the dying stars. "Madame, you have a very beautiful voice," he looked up from his book and smiled at the woman. She has not seen this smile in so long.

He looked exactly the same way he did when she first met his eyes at the Abbey.
"Pleasure to be of your acquaintance, your higness."
He smiled, his pale blue eyes reflected serenely against the tranquil yellow daylight as she stood next to her king.
"His highness is truly fortunate." He said of her presence,
and her heart wavered.

For a second she forgot how long time had passed for them both,
and that he wasn't him.

Water started forming at the woman's wrinkled eyes.

"Call me mother."

♠

Word count: 732 Words

woopwoop a bit more background reveal I guess
I intended to write more for the above but a gigantic block has hovered on my head; art block and writers block both
which has apparently also resulted into a v cry-worthy attempt at drawin roses
now to make sonson's chapter four entry-//rolls awEIII

---

Phoebe Gueroust (c) tashaj4de
Sacheverell Gueroust (c) moi