Life teaches us that we can't have everything. Every achievement comes with a sacrifice.
Eileen, determined not to regret it, made her choice. Even so, a pang of loss lingered from the path she didn't take.
Seated at the family table, facing him, she picked up a sandwich. With one generous bite, she devoured not only the food, but also the empty, meaningless thoughts that threatened to overwhelm her.
The sandwich was delicious. Although it had been prepared with the same ingredients and in the same way as always, its flavor seemed surprisingly richer than when she ate it alone. As she chewed, Eileen reflected on this striking difference in taste.
The only thing that had changed was the presence of the man before her. For a moment, she wondered if the reason was that Cesare had cut the bread with a delicacy she had never known before. But deep down, she knew the real secret ingredient was his enchanting presence.
Could there be greater joy than enjoying a meal with your favorite person in the coziest and most intimate place in the world?
'It's delicious.'
Eileen devoured the sandwich, her appetite finally awakened. However, a slight unease caught her attention, and her hand instinctively touched her face. Could there be a crumb left?
She glanced at Cesare, who was staring intently at her, a slight smile playing on his lips.
Cesare chuckled softly, his warm gaze never leaving her face.
There's nothing there. Really.
So why...?
"I've wanted to look into your eyes for a long time, " he said, narrowing his own slightly. "If I'd known, I would have taken it sooner."
For a brief moment, Eileen frowned, confused. Glasses? Clothes? It had to be the glasses.
"Your Grace… " she repeated, in an almost imperceptible whisper. "If you prefer it that way… well, perhaps I should consider abandoning the glasses altogether. Maybe that way I won't seem so… gloomy."
Even though she felt insecure about her unprotected eyes, Eileen straightened her posture. His words echoed in her chest, bringing an unexpected warmth. After all, wearing a sparkly wedding dress with messy hair and glasses would be ridiculous.
'And if the dress is too flashy, it will distract attention from my face. Maybe I should ask for a discreet veil, so as not to draw attention to it…'
Imagining the seamstresses' reaction, Eileen glanced at Cesare's untouched sandwich.
Noticing that Cesare hadn't even touched her, Eileen asked, embarrassed:
— You didn't like the sandwich? I thought it was good, but…
She asked, with a slight hint of embarrassment. She savored it with such confidence, certain that the simplicity, the mere combination of ingredients, would suffice. However, Cesare's hesitation seemed to suggest otherwise. Perhaps she wasn't as good in the kitchen as he imagined.
Checking if any sauce was dripping, Eileen got sauce on her fingers. She silently cursed her clumsiness when she noticed Cesare gesturing toward her. Not knowing what he wanted, she offered him the sandwich, but he didn't take it. Instead, he indicated her hand, covered in sauce, causing Eileen to hesitantly extend it.
The table wasn't wide, so Cesare reached her wrist easily. Eileen expected him to wipe it, but what happened next went beyond any expectation.
A small gasp of surprise escaped her lips.
He licked his fingers.
Eileen shuddered as the man's tongue slid through the sauce, brushing against her pink-painted fingernails before releasing her. The sauce was gone, but teeth marks remained. Eileen stared at them, stunned, and then at Cesare, who, as if nothing had happened, finally began to eat his sandwich.
"I thought it was delicious too. You did a good job, " she commented casually.
Hearing the compliment, Eileen's face instantly flushed. She fiddled with her bitten fingers and resumed eating carefully. But now, the taste wasn't the same. She chewed mechanically, avoiding looking at her own fingers.
Every time Cesare acted like that, a wave of unfamiliar sensations washed over her. Her heart raced, she felt butterflies in her stomach, a warmth in her chest. It was exciting and unsettling.
The sensation lingered, a warmth beneath her skin. When he licked his fingers, it all intensified, taking her breath away.
'What do I do…'
Eileen closed her eyes tightly. The heat in her body made it difficult to think otherwise. Her sandwich lay forgotten on the plate. Looking at Cesare, she saw that he had already finished his and was watching her intently.
She quickly looked away. She felt as if he could read every indecent thought swirling in her mind.
Eileen.
— Y-Yes?!
Lost in thought, Eileen startled. Her high-pitched voice broke the silence of the brick house.
What are you thinking about?
Silence fell. When she didn't answer, he asked again, as if questioning the taste of a snack:
— Naughty thoughts?
Eileen froze. She knew she should deny it, but it was too late.
'What do I do? What do I do?'
She ended up lowering her head, ashamed.
Tears threatened to well up in her eyes. Was this her? She couldn't even cut her own hair or make a decent sandwich, and now she was having "impure thoughts."
Cesare covered his lips with his hand, stifling a smile. His eyes sparkled with amusement. Not understanding the reason for his laughter, Eileen looked sadly at her half-eaten sandwich. She missed her bangs and glasses to hide behind.
Is your room still the same?
She slowly raised her head and looked at him. The man was smiling in a way that left room for interpretation.
Show it to me, Eileen.
— …
It was useless. Everything was completely ruined. Anything the man said now led her to lewd thoughts.
Embarrassed, Eileen stood up abruptly, clutching the empty plate as if it were a lifeline. Fleeing to the kitchen was all she could think about. But Cesare was one step behind her.
The second floor isn't anything special... but if you really want to see it, let's go up.
She tried to argue. She barely managed to turn toward the stairs, but before she could take a step, she was lifted off the ground. Cesare carried her in his arms.
— Ah! Your Grace!
Here you go again.
— Oh, sorry… Cesare, please put me down.
— Your feet are delicate, it's dangerous.
Despite her protests, he carried her upstairs, claiming her "delicate feet" justified it. The excuse was flimsy, but he didn't give in. Before long, Eileen was on the second floor, still in his arms.
The upper floor contained only Eileen's bedroom, a storage room, and a small office. Even so, Cesare observed the space with interest. Upon reaching the bedroom door, he sighed softly.
— … Ah!
The man took a deep breath, the air thick with the comforting scent of Eileen's room. His eyes scanned the bed, the small table by the window, the worn sofa, the wardrobe, and finally, the bathroom door. Only then did he look back at her, still nestled in his arms.
Eileen, acutely aware of their closeness, shifted uncomfortably. Their eyes met, and a melancholy tremor seemed to glint in the deep red of the man's eyes.
"Everything here... is you, " he whispered, almost inaudibly.
To be continued…