Note- Fiction. I’m writing romance these days, for no particular reason, but as long as it is coming, I don’t mind. Preparing for the Half Yearlies can be really exhausting!
Jagged and cut throughout its length, the frail garment made Style cry. The soft pink silk shredded into ribbons, the thread loose and breaking, the gown falling apart. Every time she tore his gifts or burned his letters he wanted to cry. But he promised himself, he won’t until he understood- why. So Style wiped a stray tear and gathered the dress and bundling it in his arms, he fled downstairs. He shut the door of his study, blocked out the world and buried his head in the torn silk. Would it speak to him? Would it explain? Did the undertone of her wrath- why had she destroyed it? But the lifeless gown greeted him cold and he only felt more lost in his unanswered questions. Why wouldn’t she speak to him? Why wouldn’t she see him? What had happened to his lovely bride that she hated him so? Why the constant punishment? What was his sin, his crime? If she’d only tell him, he would understand and set everything right. Just what was his crime?
Mrs Style. She hated it. She hated what she had done to that beautiful name. Se had wanted to be Mrs Style. She had become. But she had ruined it for him, and for her. Why couldn’t she just let it be? Why had she done it? Why had she even given him a thought when she had Style? Him, that other man. How could she do it? How could she dance in his arms and smile at him? How cold she come home to him and dream about him? How could she call herself Mrs Style when she’d fallen in love with him? She had torn the gown. Like all his previous gifts. She had shut him out. Ever since she’s loved him. She had driven him to hell, hoping and praying,that he’d give her up, he’d hate her. But he just wouldn’t stop. He wouldn’t stop loving her every morning and send her a present with the breakfast maid. He wouldn’t stop finding it shattered outside her door every evening, without fail. Why wouldn’t he hate her, loathe her for this repay of his love? How could she tell him that she had betrayed him and he should give her up? She couldn’t tell him directly- he would put too much faith in their marriage, he’d believe she’d come about. But she wouldn’t come about! He would live a lie! If she could only tell him, and he could understand… everything would be right. But in Lord’s name, what was HIS crime?