SERAPHIC BLISS

37. White flowers

Hello, my delightful readers.

This chapter may contain some unsettling themes and some might find it unpleasant , do feel free to skim over some parts if they unnerve you. This author's note serves as a warning for the content ahead.

I hope you enjoy ,

- your favorite sadist ;)

~*~*~

"What's the time?"

Ace looks down from the mirror and at his watch "Six 'o' clock"

"She should've been here half an hour ago"

"Yes , " He says sighs as he pulls his tie loose and tries again "I would not worry , it is probably London traffic"

"I'm not worrying," Victoria lies , as she watches Ace make another failed attempt at his tie and cursing in Russian tugging it undone for the fifth time in ten minutes " Need any help?"

Ace shakes his head at his reflection and then turns around , allowing her to take the slim pieces of silk in her hands and cross one over the other , she ties a perfect knot and pushes it up to his collar , holding him at arm's length and nods approvingly.

"Not bad"

He tilts his head and kisses her a wordless thanks , then returns to the mirror. She stands next to him , regarding their reflections with a sense of ingrained pride, he is dressed for formality , sharp in his suit and tie, it's been a while since she has came across suits. It's a stark Contradiction to his usual casual clothing.

Ace's phone vibrates and he looks down , frowning. She waits for him for ten minutes -listening to the swell of language she partially understands. Soon she grows restless and motions to the door. Ace mouths an apology and she kisses him on the cheek , leaving him to his phone call.

She wanders aimlessly , across the landing and up to a window. It's a very clearly night . She can see everything from her aerial viewpoint ; the lawns , the gravel drive , the fountain outside. She turns away from the window and begins her exploration.

Wealth can be desensitizing . She realizes this as soon as she opens the doors spontaneously ,scanning the interiors and so continuing. There is a dining room , Victorian in its architectural design , Russian in its furnishing. There are empty halls , walls are lined with mirrors and gaps filled with gold. She steps into a corridor , walking past the old paintings she pushes open a random door. It is an office , by the looks of it , and office that gets rarely used.

She closes the door.

Water hisses in the pipes and she jumps violently. It's very quiet , having lived in the city for her majority of her adult life , she finds the silence somewhat unsettling. There is no background noise , no rush of traffic. Ghost stories don't seem all that impossible ,when you're in a domain of the fictional.

The groan of the floorboards under pressure catches her off guard.

She spins around-fueled by that initial spike of adrenaline, the cold clench of the heart-fists raised as in to ward off sprits physically.

Ace stands at the other end of the corridor , his hands behind his back , looking a little startled by the ferocity of her response.

She lowers her fists.

"Jesus , " She snaps "Don't do that"

He tilts his head to one side

"Do what?"