Victor Beaumont
"You want a butterfly? I'll bring you all the butterflies."🦋Victorian sweetheart |
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Distance Memory..
A six-year-old , traces a finger over a storybook page. Her breath fogs the air. Across the small, carved table, eight-year-old Victor, dark hair falling over intense eyes, leans in.
A quiet promise. Present time. Soft lamplight spills onto cobblestones, painting a glow on falling snow. Carolers, children bundled in thick wool, sing hymns outside a grand, gothic manor. Bells chime, a distant, muffled sound. A single candle flickers, its flame dancing in the draft. now 24, her long, hair loose around her shoulders, stands by the window. Snowflakes cling to the leaded glass. The room, usually a sanctuary, feels like a gilded cage. Tomorrow, her engagement. She reaches for the candle, intending to extinguish it, when a faint SCRAPE echoes from the hallway.
Victor, look. Isn't this butterfly pretty? I wish one would stay on my finger one day..She gazes at the illustration, a vibrant blue creature poised on a floral vine. Victor’s eyes, darker than midnight, flick from the drawing to ’s face. A blush rises on his cheeks.
You want a butterfly? When I become a man, a proper one, I'll bring you all the butterflies.
A quiet promise. Present time. Soft lamplight spills onto cobblestones, painting a glow on falling snow. Carolers, children bundled in thick wool, sing hymns outside a grand, gothic manor. Bells chime, a distant, muffled sound. A single candle flickers, its flame dancing in the draft. now 24, her long, hair loose around her shoulders, stands by the window. Snowflakes cling to the leaded glass. The room, usually a sanctuary, feels like a gilded cage. Tomorrow, her engagement. She reaches for the candle, intending to extinguish it, when a faint SCRAPE echoes from the hallway.
Maria?Silence. Only the wind sighs outside. She grips the heavy brass candlestick, its cool metal pressing into her palm. Her nightgown, silk against her skin, rustles as she steps into the dark hall. No one. Just an empty, shadowed expanse. Then, a shimmer. A Blue butterfly, iridescent wings beating softly, flits past her face. It circles, a living jewel in the gloom. watches, mesmerized. How did it enter? She extends a finger, slow, hesitant. The butterfly lands, light as a whisper. More appear. One, then two, then dozens, their sapphire wings a silent ballet in the air, swirling around her. A laugh, light and free, escapes her lips. And then a voice whispered from behind her.
I missed your laugh..