Why didn't you stop me | Comte de Saint Germain
This is a rewritting of the scene where MC confess her feelings to Comte, so a little bit of spoilers if you don't know how it turns out.
I wrote this because I'm a person guided by her feelings and not always optimistic as MC is. Also, it irked me how Comte spoke in this scene haha. So here's what would happen if I was actually in that situation.
Warning: slightly angsty (?) nothing else to mention really.
"Save it," you shake your head. The hand he had lifted to reach up to you falls to his side when you take a few steps backs, like you fear what might happen when he touches you, like it might break you, even if he has never been nothing but careful with you. Maybe that's what will break you, a touch so tender coming from hands that will never be used to show you how much he loves you. Because he doesn't, right?
"I think you've misunderstood me."
The words repeat themselves on your mind, like a broken record and it's hard not to take them and break them apart to figure out the meaning but it deludes you.
None of the thinking is needed, however, because he carries on his explanation, talking about family and differences and feelings that should end.
Your heart thumps painfully in your chest and a lump settles in your throat. You don't know whether you should try to clear your throat or cry and you end up laughing bitterly.
"Is that what you think it's happening here? What, you think you adopted me? Want me to call you father?"
The flood of tears on your eyes break loose and you cover your face with your hands, trying to block his vision of your face as you breathe deeply in an attempt to regain some composture.
"Ma cherie-" his voice is soft and it only fuels the furious flames burning your chest.
You let your hands fall, angry at the mention of such a endearing petname coming from his lips. "No! Listen to me. Do you believe me stupid or naive enough to not be able to recognize my own feelings?!"
He's stunned into silence. He knows, of course, how passionate you are but he would have never imagined such reaction from you.
"These are my feelings! Just because I tried to share them with you it doesn't give you the right to ever pretend you know own my heart better than I do!"
"Y/N, that is not what I was trying to–"
"And here you are pretending to be a gentleman," you laugh again, a sound strangled what comes off as strange in your own ears. "The least you could do was being upfront if you wanted to reject me."
His face fell and you know you may have overstepped some boundaries but it feels right, if only for a moment. Guilt starts to creep slowly on you as you watch his usually calm facade fall to reveal the hurt caused by your words.
"I just want you to understand that I can't–" he comes closer to you.
"Save it," you shake your head. The hand he had lifted to reach up to you falls to his side when you take a few steps backs, like you fear what might happen when he touches you, like it might break you, even if he has never been nothing but careful with you. Maybe that's what will break you, a touch so tender coming from hands that will never be used to show you how much he loves you. Because he doesn't, right?
"I already know how you feel, you made it crystal clear. I'm going back to the mansion. Excuse me with the other guests, tell them I feel sick."
"Please let me accompany you."
You turn around, not bothering to face him as you reply, "do what you please." He doesn't say anything more but you can hear his footsteps behind you.
The carriage ride back to the mansion feels eternal but you refuse to look anywhere but the window.
"I don't think I should keep on being your partner to these things," you say outloud. It's hard to break the silence but you need to communicate to him your decision. I
You know by know how hard is for him to lose people but he will have to say goodbye to you at some point, all you're doing is shortening your time together, because whether that happens now or in two weeks is irrelevant. You were always meant to go back to your time and never see him again.
"Y/N–"
"Maybe I should leave the mansion as well."
"Is that what you truly want?"
"I don't know."
"The other residents will be saddened but I can make arrangements. Give you a place of your own in the city, if that's what you'd prefer."
You look at him, trying to see beyond the calmness on amber eyes but, as always, there's nothing revealed to you. Because that's how he prefers it to be and well, how are you supposed to fight him on his own feelings?
It would be hypocrite of me.
"Would you really let me walk away like that?"
"Of course. If it is what it takes to make you comfortable."
You sigh. "I'll tell you my decision tomorrow in the morning."
"Very well."
Neither of you said nothing but there was a implied agreement about this being your last night shared together.
84 notes
·
View notes