Chapter 3:First Sight

Name:His Own Author:Winter_Iris
Rosalind laid curled up on her bed; she could feel her face burning with embarrassment. Even buried under under piles of pillow and blankets, she still felt exposed.

"Miss Rosalind." Elena, her maid, gently tried to pull away the blankets.

"No!" Rosalind poked her head out from under the covers. "Did you see what happened ?? I can never show my face in public ever again."

Tears spilled out her eyes as she laid back down and wailed.

"Miss, it's alright. No one knows. Except your grandparents, all the servants in this house, probably the neighbours an-"

"ALRIGHT. Thank you. I feel better already." She spat.

"Of course! I'm glad I could help you, miss." Elena beamed.

Rosalind stared at the girl like she was looking at a horse on a tricycle; with complete disbelief.

"Rosy!" Her grandmother called from behind the door, trying to muffle her laughter. "Come and meet grandpa's guest."

"I don't want to!" said burrito Rosalind.

"He is a lieutenant~." Grandmother remarked.

Caterpillar Rosalind emerged from cocoon and her ran to the bathroom, almost fainting from the sight in her mirror.

"Elena! Can you help me with my hair?"

"Of course, miss."

"Grandma, I'll be right out. Make sure he doesn't leave yet!" She shouted from the bathroom, knocking the lantern from the table.

"Miss!"

"Of course, dear. But you should hurry~." With that grandmother walked off.

"Is she coming?" Grandfather asked from the couch.

Infront of him sat a man, with a uniform on. Medals decorated his torso, reflecting off the light of the lanterns around them. His hat lay on his lap, legs crossed and arms resting on the sides of the couch. His black hair danced with the breeze coming from the open windows. When the wind died down, wisps of his hair landed on his face. His face showed no signs of any emotion, after years spent in the battlefield, he'd learn to be careful of what he showed. Scars ran up and down his face and neck, some of which had not properly healed yet.

When grandmother entered, he glanced at her almost as though he wanted to ask a question, but did not say a word.

"Yes." Grandmother turned to the man, "She'll be here in just a minute."

She took a seat next to grandfather and smiled at the man, who returned that gesture with a nod.

Silence surrounded the company as they waited impatiently for Rosalind. The only sound that could be heard is the ticking of the old grandfather clock.

After what felt like a lifetime, the door opened and Rosalind entered, all signs of tears were gone.

The man immediately got on his feet and stared past the grandparents, right at her.

She wore a simple light blue gown though her feet remained bare. Her long black hair tied in the traditional cinnamon bun, all signs of sliver were gone.

As her gaze locked with the man, her eyes widened. She could feel the heat creeping up her neck to her face. His piercing black eyes penetrated into her very core and she shivered under his gaze.

The entire world disappeared around her, it felt as if they were the only ones in the room. The air was so thick with tension, she could suffocate. Yet, there they were, stareing at each other; neither willing to move least the moment disappears.

A cough pulled them both back.