The sound of a tea kettle screamed.

Filling her ears, Emeline could feel her mind jump inside her. Her eyes shooting open, she felt that she lacked the ability to focus on the metal bars above her them, his hands still gripping her chest….

Laying completely still, the curling of the sheets in her hands, her body felt completely stupefied. Her heart raced, throbbing in her chest, to the extent it felt as if it would dissipate into the air. Beads of cold, fresh panic still seemed to leech to her skin, the insides of her body fiery hot.

It was as if all she experienced was just moments ago, was more than just any dream. His scent still lingered, swaying above her head, making her head dance along as the words still whispered.

And yet, his voice was gone, disappeared like rising smoke. The things she once learned were now still covered in the strands of his hair, like any man who was ever in her dreams.

“And yet I still….”

She stuttered her thought. She heard a voice outside the cabin door.

“Alright, alright I’ll see what I can do….”

Before she could even say anything, the sound of a door sliding open sparked Emeline’s attention, forcing her out of her train of thought. Sending a rush to her, she looked to the door beside her, only to see a glimpse of a familiar silhouette framing in the middle. Immediately embraced by embarrassment, she threw the covers over her head, closing her eyes and preparing to “sleep”.

From what she could hear, the door slid open, and his voice became clearer….

“Yes, Mr. Cunningham…I’ll be sure to tell him about the parcels and….Yes, I’ll also see to look into them, but I don’t think those men will ever share respect the same way you do with me, sir…Alright… see you soon, tell the missus I give my respects….”

Suited in a servant’s uniform, the young man, with a flick of his nose, walked in to the room, lingering with him a perfume of charming normality into the room’s fogging glow. The darkness from the outside provided the shadows in his visage to sink into the sleepless night circles under his hazel eyes, and provided the perfect shielding of the top half of his lower expression. From what Emeline could see under the covers, his smile, which usually was turned at the corners like that of a cat’s, and parted slightly between thin lips, was now down in a rather dreary disheartening, his neck a stiff doll’s, untwisting.

Emeline kept her head low, trying to keep her breathing in a normal pattern. With one eye left open, poking through a miniature sheet hole, she kept a careful watch as she saw him take the tea kettle off the stove. The young man grabbed the handle of the cabinet above the small, kitchen bar, his hands quivering, unsteady as if there was a small earthquake rocking the insides of his body. Pulling it open to reveal small varieties of cups and tea plates, he placed two sets on the bar, taking two tea bags and plopping them straight into the cups before pouring the hot, steaming water.

Emeline could smell the scented herbs that wafted through the sheets, the smell wrapping around her, forcing her to whimper like a starving pup.

The young man finished pouring the water, spooning in lumps of sugar into his tea. “Are you going to get up anytime soon, Emeline?”

Emeline inhaled, creating a whistling sound through her lips kind of like a mouse’s. “Eeep…!” She kept her head under the covers, acting more so of a turtle than a startled young lady who has woken up to find another man in the room.

The young man only turned to her, his smile brighter and more vibrant than before than when he had once walked in.
He held, in his hands, two tea cups, keeping both of his thin, delicate fingers gripped steady and firm on the plates. With some flamboyance, he strode over to the end of the seat, seating himself at the end where Emeline placed her feet.

He looked over at the mass that was trying to keep as perfectly still, holding a cup out to the wads of blanket.

“Tea…?”

Long brown hair, weaving in and out of the blankets, scuffled, frizzing in wisps from underneath that poked from the covers. Two eyes, hinted with the reaction of some rather kind of annoyance, rose up from the cotton ocean, the set sternly focusing at the cup of liquid floating rather nonchalantly above her.

Emeline merely focused her eyes on the tea.

“Well…?” the young man asked, the steam rising from both cups clouding the atmosphere. “I can’t hold this tea for long. I’m getting thirsty as well, and, as you may know, it would be very difficult to drink mine without spilling
yours…?”

Emeline kept her eyes on the tea cup. “I don’t like it…”

“It’s chamomile…”

Emeline scuffed, keeping her mental distance rather far away from the young stew. “I don’t mean that…”

The young man smirked, taking back the tea. “Then what do you mean…?”

Emeline pushed her body against the seat and pillow, wrapping her arms around her body as she sat up. “I don’t feel comfortable…when I wake up with someone in the same room.” She twiddled her fingers, tracing the blanket’s wrinkles that vaulted in between her paper legs. “It just feels like that person’s been in the room with you the whole time you’ve been sleeping...kind of like a ghost of some sort. You have had that feeling before, William…haven’t you?”

The young man, holding both tea cups out in front of him, merely tittered. “You sound like you’re in a box…I’ve never had that feeling, before…”

“Ah…sure….” Emeline looked down at her sheets, her eyes glancing to the window beside her. The room’s light shining upon the snow’s glassy surface as the snowflakes outside danced and whistled past, smoothly gliding along the silent plains.

“How long have I been asleep?”

William placed one of the tea cups on the ground, finally holding his own. “Ever since the train left the station…it’s been about…” He shuffled in his pocket, pulling out a gleaming gold pocket watch and clicking it open. “…2 hours…not that long.”

Emeline could only glare at him, giving him what she believed were her snake-slit eyes. “Two hours?” Her mind seemed speechless, but her lips could not be satisfied.

“And the reason you, or anybody else, didn’t wake me up before then…?”

William was able to have one sip of his tea, only to find it hot to his tongue. He sighed, a smile painting across his thin lips as he took another sip. “It’s the gentleman’s rule to never wake up a woman…”

Emeline couldn’t help but scuff as if to laugh. “Is that because men are horn dogs and love to get aroused when she isn’t watching?”

“Now, now, what makes you say that?” William said, grinning, taking a sip of his tea casually.

“Just an idea…just an idea, is all…”

Emeline hopped from the bed, little white sprites of energy prancing around her. From what she could see in her reflection, she felt the sort of nostalgia to not preoccupy her time with trying to ruin the “plain-janeness” of her appeal. Most women thought they had to look there best in front of men. She didn’t.

As she brushed her hair, letting it straighten out in some wispy patterns, she looked past the corner of her eye. The young man, nonchalantly in-taking the scent from his tea, looked more like a suitor than anything else, his pinstriped uniform washed in a beautiful navy blue from head to toe with accenting gray, much like what all servants had to wear. He looked up, his eyes smiling as he made a small grin the through his lips, yet holding back his creases as if he were trying to exceed from his happiness. Such a saddened, happy expression, was it because of the color of the room, silent and still, or was it from the way her aurora bounced across the room? The way he seemed to speak to her was rather quiet for him to the point of where he was only talking through his eyes.

“So…”

William turned his eyes down for what seemed hours, returning his visage to a more curious look that caused his eyebrows to rise slightly.

Emeline immediately bit her tongue. What was she thinking…asking him how he was feeling would be just awkward, even if he was acting stranger than his common, typical self…but…

“So…” Emeline said, “I’ve heard that the Duke of Birmingham was supposed to play tonight. Is that true?”

William, never seeming to let go of his countenance, parted his lips to smile again. “Yes, yes he is…”
Emeline began straightening her uniform’s shirt, finding a loose button near the top of her shirt. “Is he as great as the say he is?”

The ceiling seemed to start to peel, William looking up as he heaved in what felt like smoke. “Well, let me ask you this…Ever had to watch over a toddler before?”

Emeline crooked towards him, and shook her head.

“Well, god, you’re so lucky that you were asleep. This Duke…wait, scratch that, duchess, thinks that he has to be the whiny, little bastard that he really is…” He sighs, flaring his words. “I meant to say that this guy has the whole staff running for him, just so he can say, ‘That’s not good enough…’ or ‘Is this what you call service’ in that nasal tone that just drives you bonkers! It’s been a real hell-hole this time, so, really, somebody pull the trigger right now…”

Emeline looked over to him “You seem really mad…”

His skin was flushed, the excitement he once had boiled down. Angst squirmed in his, wincing as if he had been stricken. Covering his expression, he put a hand to his head, leaning back in his seat. “Oh…”

Emeline flashed him a look of concern. “Ah...William, are you alright?” His temper seemed to be getting somewhat worse with every day, as if the stones were skipping closer to the shore.

William rubbed his fingers through his hair, his eyes watering slightly. He shivered before heaving out a sigh, admiring from below her with eyes of gold and covering with a mask of a smile.

“Oh…” William said, “Yes, I’m fine…are you almost ready?”

Emeline backed away, eyeing down and away. She nodded.

“Lovely….”The servant quickly got up from his seat, and grasped the sliding door’s handle with the swiftest speed, letting all tension loosen the grasp on his clothes. “After you….”

Emeline placed her hands in front of her, flowing past the servant with thoughts still flowing through his mind.

“Thank you…” she muttered, as she walked into the hall.

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