The sun kisses his face as he sits in what feels like a glass seat, surrounded by the soft chirping of birds, the song sung by the leaves in the slight breeze and the sweet aroma of the flowers around him.
He could also smell the wet dirt, a clear sign they had been watered this morning as his orders to his gardeners who do excellent work tending to the garden.
He can tell the garden is garden is beautiful even though he can't really see it for himself. However, he could feel the liveliness of the plants around him on his way here as his fingers had glazed and touched almost every single flower and it's petals.
They all felt delicate and soft against his finger tips, a clear sign they aren't wilting and drying out in the intense sunlight from the care they are given day and night.
She has always loved roses... He thinks to himself as he feels the stem of the rose in his hand, slowly clipping the thorns away from the stem as gently as he can, careful not to prick himself. He wants to give her a bouquet of roses made only by his own hands. He plucked them from their garden by himself with the help of his hands and memory of how a rose is shaped and through all the lessons he had taken to differentiate various things from household items down to flowers and even to the coarseness and fineness of dirt.
He did so so he can be able to know just about anything without the aid of his eyes.
I still don't know what color of roses I'm plucking... He sighs as he feels the smoothness of the stem of the rose he's plucking thorns from and sets it down once the thorns are all gone before carefully feeling the table for the last one and immediately begins to work. She loves only the red roses... I hope they are all red.
He didn't care to ask his gardeners for the color of the roses he was picking only because he wants full credit for the banquet.
He is waiting for her to come after she is dong preparing for their little tea and pastry garden time. The assistant insisted that she spoke with her first before they spend their time alone together and he's starting to get tired of waiting as he finishes off the last rose.
He wants her close to him. He wants to feel her presence, hear her breathing and voice. He wants her around to fill the voice that's trying to eat him.
Sighing heavily, he feels around the table and finds the paper he'd ordered a while back and asked one of the maids to fetch from his office. This phone bad narrated the pattern of the paper before he purchased it online so he hopes it really is the paper with red hearts.
He carefully starts to wrap the banquet of roses as he remembers hearing from the video narration before adding his bow. But from the feel of the bow itself, he knows he didn't do something right. One side is smaller than the other, but just as he feels for the tail to pull it apart and start again, he hears soft clattering of heels coming from his right and he knows that's Serena.
"Serena?" He smiles, tilting his head towards the direction of the heels. He's not too sure until the citrus scent covers his nose and he now knows it's really her.
"Yes?" Mirabelle asks softly before taking the only seat across from him, staring down at the banquet he's making. "Is a guest coming over? What's with the banquet?"
"I made it for you." He says as he gently slides the banquet towards her. "Do you like it? I hope they are all red roses as you love."
Mirabelle didn't like red roses, she actually preferred them white than red, but since she's not supposed to be Mirabelle but Serena, she nods, only to clear her throat when she remembers he can't see.
"They are all red. And beautiful." She smiles as she looks at the banquet, lying through her teeth when they are in fact mostly white than red with a bit of red roses here and there. "You did this by yourself?"
"I did." He smiles triumphantly. "I even picked them all by myself. All red roses, because I could feel them calling to me."
Mirabelle chuckles softly, knowing full well she's just toying with him by not telling him the truth. That they aren't many red roses in the banquet.
"Thank you..." Mirabelle chuckles softly as she sniffs the roses slowly, taking in the sweet scent of the natural rose. "It means a lot that you organized and did everything yourself. It's a shame they will wilt."
Derek nods and sighs as he straightens his back, catching the sound of at least two people walking towards them, slowly getting louder and louder with the 'cling' and 'clung' of what he assumes are plates and utensils.
Possibly his manservant and maidservant delivering the afternoon pastries and tea set.
"However, my memory of it won't wilt." She says as she smiles gently and places the flowers on the table as she notices the workers bringing the meal he promised her.
Derek on the other hand feels his heart thud at her words. He'd never heard her speak about anything he'd done for her as something she will cherish in memory of it. He clenched his fingers into a fist as he sits there, body tense and jaw clenched from the restraint of grabbing her and feeling those lips again.
Lips that spoke so sweetly and kindly to him now than before. If he could marry her right then and there, he would, but he remembers his assistant's words.
Not to rush things or she could flee.
"Your pastries and tea, sir." The manservant bows as him and his coworker set the the items on the small glass table in front of them.
Derek only nods his head and they bow before leaving, curiously glancing at Mirabelle who only locks her gaze on the pastries instead.
"Anything you like?" He asks once he knows the servant's are out of earshot and he can barely hear their feet. "I had them prepare tarts, pie and cookies."
Mirabelle stares at the artistic tarts and beautiful.pie, her stomach already growling with anticipation as she nearly drools over the food in front of her. She never had the chance to taste a tart in her life but it looks so good to miss this chance.
"They look so good I'm suddenly hungry." She chuckles as she tucks her hair behind her ear and he smiles softly at her response.
"I'm glad you're hungry." He chuckles sits up, straightening his back as he feels for the fork and knife. "Have anything you like. There should be enough for even four."
Mirabelle nods and quickly says 'yes' as she reaches for the tart first, immediately digging her fork in and placing it into her mouth, feeling it melt onto her tongue almost immediately.
"M-mh... That's so good. The tart I mean." Mirabelle says as she chews slowly to savour the taste. "It's sweet in the right way."
"I also like tarts." He nods as he feels around the table with careful fingers, trying to reach for the plate with the tart. She catches on and gently slides it to him, stopping a second before he could feel the plate so he wouldn't know.
She watches as he lifts the plate and takes a small sniff to make sure he had the tart before taking a bite.
"It really is delicious." Derek nods as he takes another fork full, sighing in the taste as his body feels rejuvenated by the flavour. "The chef is always putting in a lot of concentration in his cooking. He's old but he refuses to retire but serve me. I'm grateful, I don't think I want him to ever leave the kitchen."
He chuckled and she watches as his eyes crinkle at the corners as he speaks about the chef. A clear sign he's fond of him.
"You like this chef." Mirabelle smiles with a small chuckle as she continues to eat her tart, each bite better than the last.
"I really do. He's been around since I was five. First time he served me he was twenty-four and already the most talented chef known in the country at the time." Derek says as he lick his bottom lip and leans back to his seat, starting to take himself back to the good old days. "He used to help me sneak a treat when mother wasn't looking. I saw him as my eldest brother but he claims I'm more like his grandson."
"But he's still too young to consider you a grandson." She chuckles and he only shrugs, taking another bite.
"Mhm. But he's always seen me that way. You've met him before though, on my sixteenth birthday, you remember, at that hotel party when I insisted I wanted him to bake my cake." He laughs and Mirabelle stands there frozen as she doesn't even know about this event. "You wanted to have the cake made by someone, I've forgotten his name, but you liked his cakes and wanted me to try them out but I was so adamant on having my own chef do it, I wouldn't take no for an answer. Then we fought about it the night before my birthday."
Mirabelle laughs nervously, feeling the beads of sweat behind her ear as she doesn't even know about this.
"So they did the competition and you said your baker built a cake of... What was it again?" He asks as he snaps his fingers, trying to remember.
"Uh.... A... C-castle..." She lowers her voice as she says this and he pauses for a moment before leaning back in his chair.
She knows for sure she messed up.
"It was big, forgotten what it was but yeah, should be a castle." He nods as he goes back to eating. "I could have sworn it was a cake shaped like different sized boxes. But I didn't check back then so I went for my chef instead. He made the Eiffel tower."
Mirabelle sighs in relief, gripping her fork so tight her palms turn white from the panic she was having.
"Yeah," she chuckles nervously as he finishes his tart and reaches for the teapot, only to have her quickly grab his palm as she notices he was just about to touch the hot body of the steaming teapot.
She gently directs him to the handle and he smiles softly as he lifts the teapot and feels around for his cup. He traces the width of the cup and the nasal of the teapot before gently tilting it to our himself the aromatic green tea.
She reaches out again, trying to help guide his cup and nasal of the teapot but hime shakes his head.
"Don't worry, I can manage. It's not the first I've done this." He says, forcing her to retreat back into her chair as she watches his nervousness. He traces the cup and teapot again before pouring it directly into the cup with no spillage and setting it down to the table. "You care for me very well, Serena."
"You could have burnt yourself." She sighs, now call as she waits for him to set the teapot down so she could have some but he feels around for her cup instead, finding it and doing the same thing.
"I could have yes, but it would have taught me the height of the teapot not to repeat the same mistake in the future." He says as he gently places the teapot down and feels around for the container of sugar. "I can do so much for you, you do know that, right? I don't need eyes to see everything."
Mirabelle looks down at her laps, feeling guilty for trying to help him when he's trying to prove to Serena who won't even give him a chance to show his undying love for her.