Garden of May

It was a slow drawl that sounded almost like a sigh of admiration. River Ross had such a unique way of calling her name. Struck by a sudden wave of euphoria, Vanessa blinked, stunned, before pressing her lips firmly together.

“What are you doing out here at this hour?”

A faint trace of amusement laced his voice. Vanessa kept her eyes resolutely fixed on the ground. She was afraid that if she met his gaze, she would forget all her anger and simply welcome him like an eagerly waiting dog.

She remained stubbornly silent before shooting up from the chair. She quickened her pace, walking straight past him. She only made it a few steps before his hand clamped down on her wrist.

“…Let go.”

Vanessa mumbled, her ears flushing red. She didn’t want to see him right now. Not like this, completely unprepared and defenseless, both emotionally and physically. Who could have possibly predicted he would show up at this hour, when not even cars were on the road, walking on his own two feet through the mist?

The thought that it might not be him had been little more than a defense mechanism. The iron gate opening, the sound of a man’s shoes on the path, the presence drawing near…

It would be a lie to say she hadn’t been hoping for it, but the moment she heard his voice, any preparation she’d built up crumbled to dust. She didn’t want to look pathetic in front of him.

“Where are you off to?”

“To my room… I forgot something.”

“You’ve waited all this time, and now you’re leaving without even looking at me?”

“That’s… well, yes, but for now… later…”

Vanessa glanced nervously toward the garden entrance. She felt painfully shabby in her thin, pilled shawl, thrown haphazardly over her chemise, with her hair carelessly tied up and her thick-framed glasses on.

And the more splendid, the more gentlemanly he looked, the worse she felt.

“I did think it would be good to see you.”

“……”

“It’s even better than I imagined.”

Vanessa stopped trying to pull her wrist from his grasp. The tension drained from her rigid body. All because of a simple phrase implying he hadn’t forgotten her, that he had thought of her while they were apart.

As a last defense of her pride, she turned her head, avoiding his touch.

“…Why did you have to come back today, of all days? You should have just come back much later.”

If he had come yesterday, she would have been happy; if he had come tomorrow, she would have forgotten him for good. Mulling over her spoken words, River Ross let out a short laugh, sensing the sharp resentment she hadn’t quite managed to conceal.

“Then I’m glad I wasn’t too late.”

The man who replied—I’m glad I wasn’t so late that you had given up on me entirely—was devastatingly charming. In that instant, the tension in her eyes, which had been stubbornly fixed on the ground, eased just slightly. A large hand cupped her cheek, tilting her head up to face him.

Unwilling to submit so easily, she squeezed her eyes shut. With a soft laugh, warmth touched her forehead, then drew away. It brushed her eyelids, sore from lack of sleep, the small bridge of her nose, and finally, her lips, which had parted in a daze.

“……”

The kiss was over in an instant, and it hadn’t even been deep. River Ross released her matter-of-factly.

“Your lips are cold, Vanessa.”

He stated it as a simple observation.

“Don’t stay out here like this. Wait inside next time. Even in summer, the temperature is low before sunrise.”

“…What if I end up breaking something important of yours?”

“I don’t care. You can do whatever you like with anything inside.”

He took the key from the key box, unlocked the padlock, and went inside. Vanessa, who had been standing frozen in fierce internal conflict, finally followed him.

River Ross placed the briefcase he’d brought on the desk and moved about the long shed, opening curtains and windows. The sun, now fully risen, cast warm light into the cool space.

“……”

Dust motes dancing in the air caught the light, sparkling like gold dust. Vanessa sat on a wooden chair and watched his back as he moved. It seemed that in the week or more they had been apart, God had seen fit to sculpt him in an even more perfect fashion.

Beauty, a cool dignity, and the unique vibrancy of youth coexisted harmoniously on his elegant features.

The lines of his body, with toned thighs and well-developed muscles that even his neat suit could not conceal, made his slightest movements seem almost feral.

He was a commoner more aristocratic than any noble. As she watched this impossible figure, she was suddenly reminded of the rumors the maids whispered behind her back.