A Kiss By Sunset Won't Change My Heart107.77.97.119Posted On December 04, 2017 at 5:44 AM by Adelaide Claire LaBelle

i'm the hero of my own story, don't need a knight in shining armor

Once, she had been able to open her heart to those around her. Once, she'd been content if not happy to share her dreams and her wants to those that might listen, those that had only seemed to care about those cherished hopes and aspirations. If things had been different in her life, if maybe she'd been spared that life of luxury that unfortunately seemed to come with its fair share of searching eyes looking for a way to take what they could without giving in return, if her upbringing had been one of humbled and more modest means, she might still be that young girl so open to the world and ready to sing the melodies in her heart. But that was not the life that fate had intended for her. Instead, she'd been borne of noble heritage, with monetary value and pretty little trinkets at her disposal like they were nothing more than shiny pennies to be tossed this way and that without any sort of regard. She'd been born into a world that, while living was easy and there was never a need to worry about one's next meal, there was always someone that wanted it all for themselves. Julien, Melody, all those suitors lined up outside the gate to that large estate with roses in hand and their best suits perfectly pressed, they'd all shown her that they only saw her for what she was worth in gold and precious stones. None of them truly saw her for the bright young woman that craved so much more than what those walls could ever give her. None of them had ever stopped to ask Adelaide what it was that she wanted most with the intention of truly caring. She hadn't seen that at first when she was younger, but as she grew from a young girl and into the fierce young woman that she was to become, those sage eyes began to see past all those pretty little lies they'd all whispered to her just so that she would settle for a life of false things disguised as happiness. When her father had decided to tell her that she should marry a man of his choice, all the ugly things she'd been surrounded by came to light and she knew that her happiness would never find her if she stayed there. She would be nothing more than that caged canary singing her heart out only to never feel the wind under those wings meant for flying.

Chance found her though, and she'd seized it like there was nothing else that mattered in the world. That small window of opportunity had opened up all with the unrelenting persistence that she'd put into finding that figurative key and breaking that figurative lock that kept her on the inside looking out, and when she'd gotten onto that plane and it became airborne, she felt all those chains around her spirit shatter like glass against marble floors. She could remember how liberated her first breath had felt when she stepped off that plane and onto the foreign soils of this new - well, new to her obviously - world she'd only ever desired to see with her own eyes. How sweet that first taste of freedom had been for the young French woman and in that same moment the fire in her soul only roared to greater intensity as she felt for the very first time like she was her own person. Days later, she'd fallen in love not with another being but rather with the world and she knew in that very moment when she'd walked over the threshold of the house perfectly placed in the depths of Sacrosanct, there was no going back to Paris. That chapter of her life was written and there was no changing the things she'd said to her parents just as there was no changing the yearnings of her heart and soul. She'd ended that chapter in the story of her life the days she'd arrived here in this unknown city, and now it was time that she wrote her own future now. She would never be just some pretty daughter of some arrogant nobleman, not anymore. She was Adelaide Claire LaBelle, and she was here to make her life as she so desired. No, Townsend was certainly not keen on all of the young woman's ideas on how she would go about securing her place here so that there was no possible way - or easy way, rather - that the wretched nobleman could call her back to those rolling hills of Paris. Yet even in spite of those high ambitions that Adelaide had set for herself, she knew that the Englishman would do all that he could to support her. He may serve her father, but in the same moment she knew that he cared for her beyond those duties that his employer had placed upon those strong shoulders. They were friends first and always, and she had always seen him as far more than her charged companion and caretaker - especially caretaker as she was more that confident in her abilities to tend her own needs without him shadowing her every step of the way as she'd mostly proved tonight. Hence why she would always introduce him by name and never by title of Butler or Servant. Those words left a foul taste on her tongue and a grimace in those sage eyes to think that her mother and father were so eager to use those terms. As correct as they were, they'd never settled well with the dark-haired French woman and so she refused to use them in typically stubborn "Adelaide fashion". She made her own way, and she would blaze her own trail no matter what awaited in her near and far future. She would be ready.

Adelaide had fully expected for people of all sorts to walk into her life and out again. If she'd learned anything thus far in her life, it was that there would always be constant change and challenge that would test her in ways that she might not always expect. She'd been lied to and hurt, but instead of letting those past wounds define every moment thereafter, she faced them and accepted those trials for what they were. Not all that she encountered would be kind and not all that she would grow fond of might stay. She'd learned tonight that even beyond all those stuffy suits and extravagant egos, there were still men out there that thought they could take whatever they wanted, whether it be women or material things, and they would not care who they might hurt in the process. Taylor was just another casualty to those odds, and yet still even when his arm that rested in her hands told a tale that she could not quite see the words to, he still stepped up to that drunken man for her. It took a special kind of spirit to come to the aide of a complete and total stranger that may or may not have been grateful for the consequence that his choice would deal him. He was selfless in a world of selfish beings, and it was in this observation and regard that she felt for the man that had won him her trust that she'd long since stopped placing into the hands of others so easily. He was different, she could feel it on that motorcycle as they rode through the dark streets of Sacrosanct and she could feel it now as he moves to settle on the couch beside her. He makes a subtle remark about the fireplace then in reply to Adelaide's words on how she'd never had a taste for false things and she offers him a softer smile."It is not simply because it looks better, but rather I've found that false things are always so much less fulfilling in life. I wish for all things in my life to be real and true if I can help it. Even for its thorns that might cut my finger, I would still love a true rose more than a silk rose", she says thoughtfully in accented words as she only briefly casts her gaze to the flames that licked against the splintered logs before turning to the wounds on his arm once again. It was clear in the passion of her words that they'd been meant to speak much deeper than just the fireplace that roared with life in her home but rather allowed for him to perhaps catch a fleeting glimpse of what she treasured about the world, about what she had hope to fill her life with to replace all that had not been real. In the end though, it would be up to him and him alone to interpret her words as he would.

Quiet silence lingers only briefly between them before he is shaking his head lightly at her first query and she offers him an amused smile as sage eyes look up to those hunter greens, noticing only momentarily how much taller he was even as they sat there together. He seems to brush aside her compliment and replies with tenor tones that only encourages that amused smile upon elegant and feminine features as she lifts an arched brow, sage eyes glittering."I'm not sure I entirely believe that. I happen to find you rather charming in your own endearing way", she ushers warmly to him before the man seems to focus his attention on the canines. She watches him curiously and finds herself thinking he might be fond of them despite his initial uncertainty that only seems to ebb with her assurance that he was in no danger. An easy and trickling note of laughter falls past dusty rose-colored lips and she is hardly surprised when Reginald almost seems to understand the mention of food, rising to those large paws with cropped ears perked as he pushes his nose against the man's other hand as if to see if he had any treats only to lay down at Taylor's feet when he finds none. Rose, however, remains where she'd first sat, still uncertain of the strange man in their home. Once Townsend has brought all that she asked for and she dismissed him, she immediately begins working the glass out of his arm starting with the largest piece that causes him to jerk away though he is quick to apologize before returning it to her hands. He offers her a grin as she teases him and he and his reply has her coy smile growing as he gives Reginald a playful wink of sorts, the black and tan male glancing up only briefly at the sound of the man's voice before resting his large head on those paws stretched out in front of him."Well perhaps that fine whisky in your glass might help you manage, hmm?", she replies through lilted tones as sage eyes glitter with laughter as they lock with hunter greens before she goes to remove the last remaining pieces of glass buried into his skin. When she has removed the last piece and set it on the table beside then along with the tweezers, she runs her hand delicately over his defined forearm, her touch as fleeting and soft as a butterflies kiss to the crimson petals of a rose. She does this to ensure she hasn't missed any shards and when she finds that she has not, satisfied with her work, she begins to rub the warm cloth over the wounds to clean them.

She can feel his gaze on her once again as she questions him and she blinks at him from beneath those dark lashes, noting the surprise that she finds there, a sheepish grin etching into his chiseled face before he answers her. Perhaps some women might have scowled or eyed him suspiciously, but Adelaide does none of these things though she is grateful that Townsend was not nearby to hear it or else she'd be receiving quite the look from the Englishman. She says nothing as he explains what his words implied though her arched brow raises."I understand perfectly well what you are saying, and so I can certainly see how this may make you uncomfortable, but I assure you that I do not bite... much ", she purrs, her last words nearly coming across as sultry while she gives him an impish smile. He returns her question and amusement dances within those sage eyes."Hardly. The men I've been around would have seen no mercy from me, though they also were never encountered in public but rather on the estate in pursuit of my affections I was not keen on giving", she answers with accented words before that previously impish smile softens into something gentler as she pauses lightly."So you could say that you're the first, dear Taylor", she finishes sweetly to the man beside her as she continued to wipe the soft cloth against his arm. He remarks on her whereabouts before he does her English and as she sets the cloth onto the table, satisfied that his wounds were cleaned, she reaches now for her glass and lifts it to her her lips to take a drink before setting it on her lap."I had an expensive education, but yes. I took time to learn a little Russian but it is not as good as my English though I had no intentions of moving to Russia as I did the states", she explains only briefly. It had been one of the perks of being taught at home with many private tutors, being able to learn and enjoy it. It had been one of the first doors that had begun to open up that chance for her to get away from the only world she knew so that she might be able to see what lay beyond that distant horizon that called to her as it did.

His disposition shifts beneath the fierceness of her words as she dared to open herself up to him and in truth she is startled at just how easily those words were willing to fall past parted lips. He truly was easy to talk to and, for the first time in so long, she did not feel pryed or judged. He offers her a sympathetic look and though she's come this far in life never needing such a thing as pity, he in turn shares not only his thoughts of how she'd come to Sacrosanct, but also of how he perceived his own father. She feels her heart go out to him, knowing entirely too well how the look of a disappointed father could feel. At one time, she'd cared, but no more."Our fathers could have been good friends in another life", she muses for a moment before dismissing the subject of dreadful figures altogether. He was the last thing she wanted to think of right now. Taylor speaks again in assurance, that familiar smirk finding his handsome features as he almost encourages her to share the pent up fury she'd carried in her heart. She places her hand over his now, smiling gently as sage eyes do not falter from hunter green."I may to just take you up on that offer, but another time. Lucky for you though, your arm a now glass free", she answers with amusement over her silken voice as she noted the teasing in his voice and the almost mischievous look that he gives her that was enough to make her smile turn coy in wordless reply. Then, at her next string of words, there is another nearly tangible shift in Taylor and he lays before her why he had come here. His gaze darkens as he tells tells her only in brief what his past held and though his story is entirely different from her own, that feeling she'd only caught the lightest touches of makes perfect sense now on why she would be so drawn to him. They were two spirited people running from demons and hoping to find something more in what the unknown could bring them, and how fitting it was that they would find each other in that almost desperate flight away from home. She listens attentively to his story, sage eyes never leaving his face as he looks down at his arm in another attempt to distract himself though she sees right through it as she had the previous times. He warns her that she should stay away from him, and she feels her heart go out to him even more then. She leans in towards him as the hand she'd rested over his folds gently over calloused palms and she holds it there before setting her glass on the table and resting her other hand on his thigh. She did not know what compelled her to do so, but she couldn't help feeling like he needed that touch to know that she did not judge him for what he'd confided in her. She is almost at a loss for words then, but she finds a resolve in that silence. She wanted to help him beyond his wounds."I am not so easily dissuaded from someone so genuine as you, Taylor. And if it is money you owe, I can remedy that. Townsend and I could use another hand around the home with some of the landscaping and various other tedious tasks. I would like to have you work for me and I will pay you in return, enough for both your cost of living and your debt. This way, everyone wins, including those terrible loan sharks", she offers him warmly, every word spoken in pure honesty. She tries not to insist as she had back at the burlesque, but there is a want in her lilted voice that expresses her desire for the man to allow her the chance to help ease his troubles. They could help each other, in more ways than one."You know... I may not understand everything in your past, but from the man I see now, you're not a disappointment. Not in my eyes", she whispers gently to him, her hand holding his own squeezing lightly as if to show she meant what she said, sage eyes never faltering.

Adelaide Claire LaBelle•*
dante|image by alexandru zdrobau


Post A Reply