((Dang…..XD))
Thomas nodded, that smile still on his face even as his heart broke. He brought the hand he held to his lips. "I understand." He said as he placed it down. His chest ached but refused to break. Not now.
"Are you enjoying the food?"
(Oof)
Angeline averted her eyes, evidently afraid she’d done something wrong. “I didn’t mean— I’m sorry. I do- of course I want— Of course I want.. you, but I don’t want to be unfair. I’m just confused.” She hesitated, biting her lip. “Maybe we could.. take things…. slowly?”
"Yes, of course." Thomas said with yet another nod. It was all he could to not shake his head and scream in protest. Angeline had been through a lot, she had all the room in the world to be confused, to have doubt. He couldn't dislike her for feeling.
“I— I’m sorry,” she stammered, eyes flicking away.
"Angeline." Thomas looked into her beautiful blue eyes. "You have nothing to be sorry for. Your heart is your own, and you must decide whom you shall give it to. I won't interfere."
His words only served to heighten the levels of guilt she was harbouring, which must have showed on her face for a split second. "It's fine. You can- You can do whatever you want."
Thomas laughed softly. "Angeline, dear Eat." He pointed to her food. "Or it'll get cold." And then she wouldn't eat it and they would part much sooner than he wanted.
Angeline relented, though she was unable to take her eyes off of Thomas as she spooned the soup carefully into her mouth.
Thomas watched her watch him and chuckled as he turned his attention to his soup. "So, have you been to an opera lately?" He asked her.
"I've… never been," she admitted, embarrassed. "I've never been anywhere nice other than here. You forget, I'm just a servant."
Thomas's cheek reddened. "I guess I do…." He had to admit, Angeline didn't carry herself as a servant. She was dainty and proper, kind and graceful, and timid like a school girl. Whenever he thought of her, it was when she wore his last name, where she was his, not a servant. "Let me take you to one." He offered. "As a friend. Winifred and Marcus can accompany us if you'd like."
Thomas's cheek reddened. "I guess I do…." He had to admit, Angeline didn't carry herself as a servant. She was dainty and proper, kind and graceful, and timid like a school girl. Whenever he thought of her, it was when she wore his last name, where she was his, not a servant. "Let me take you to one." He offered. "As a friend. Winifred and Marcus can accompany us if you'd like."
As a friend. The words both relieved and pained her to hear. "That would be nice, but I don't want to leech off of your money, you shouldn't be paying for me, Thomas. But I appreciate the offer."
(she'll take a bit of convincing, XD)
(( Thomas: Takes a deep breath, cracks his knuckles, and then runs into the fires of Angeline's overly-humble heart))
"Please." Thomas urged. "Just….think of it as a peace offering. To brush everything that happened tonight under the rug, to start over as friends once more. And to even things out, Marcus will pay for a meal afterwards." He offered every suggestion that came to mind, anything just for her to agree.
(You go, Thomas)
Angeline should have said no— who was she, a mere servant, to take the money of this kind man? She shouldn’t even be here right now, leeching off of Marcus. But the temptation was too sweet. A night at the opera? She’d never been able to imagine such a thing. And the fact that Thomas would be there would make it infinitely better. “I— Alright. Thank you, Thomas. I’ll repay you sometime, I promise.”
"Yes!" Thomas cheered with mirth as he grasped her hand and kissed it earnestly. "Angeline, thank you so much. For your company and this wonderful meal! " He flourished his thanks, arm outstretched as he dramatized his words. "You have no speculation how much this means to me."
Angeline bit back an exhilarated smile, squeezing his hand lightly before letting go. “I should be thanking you, Thomas, but it was my pleasure.”
Thomas smiled. "Would you like a dessert?" He asked, his eyes shining. He wouldn't press her more about the trip, she might change her mind.
Angeline opened her mouth to reply that yes, she would, but quickly closed it again. She'd taken enough of Marcus's money already. "No, thank you."
Thomas shrugged, his eyes latching on to the clock. He sighed. "Well it appears my break is over." He gathered his dishes. "It was so wonderful talking with you, Angeline. I can't wait until our outing together." He'd been very careful not to call it a date, but not very careful in keep his eyes off of her. Angeline's blue cesspools of beautiful called to him and compelled him in a way he'd never understand. Maybe that's why he leaned in close and pressed a slow kiss to her lips. He pulled away soon after and held her gaze for a second before scurrying off.
So much for "not interfering" he scolded himself.
A soft gasp parted Angeline’s lips— the very lips that the divine entity of a man before her had tasted just moments ago. She stared after his retreating back, one hand lifting to graze the spot where their bodies had met, just for a moment. Her heart thundered, pounded out an exhilarated rhythm, and it was in that moment that she knew how hopelessly he had her wrapped around his little finger. Thomas… Angeline could scarcely breathe.
In the gardens, Marcus bent down to pluck a wildflower from the lush grass at his feet. He offered it to Winifred, rising just in time to catch a glimpse of the events within. A large grin broke through his expression. “Oh, Winifred~” he practically sang. “I believe we can call this day a success.”
Wildflower in hand, she held it gently like all the other's they'd collected. "What-" she looked in the direction he did, just as Thomas leaned in and kissed Angeline, leaving her flustered at the table. Winifred squealed happily.
“Oh, that is perfect, is it not?” Marcus laughed triumphantly. “Come, shall we go see how the lady is feeling?”
Winifred threw the flowers into the air like confetti and took Marcus's arm. "Yes, we shall." She smiled brightly.
“Perfect.” They returned to the flustered woman, arm in arm. “Angeline!” Marcus greeted, sitting down. “Where’d Thomas go?”