『The Unreachable Light』
"You are the light I can never reach." ε=ε=ε=ε=ε=ε=┌(;￣◇￣)┘ You were born at the pinnacle, your father a self-made legend, and even the air in your mansion carries the elegance of accumulated wealth. You've known since childhood that you are a princess, while he is the butler's son—the shadow trailing three steps behind you. ε=ε=ε=ε=ε=ε=┌(;￣◇￣)┘ When you fell as a child, he was the first to rush over to help you up, even though he was just a little boy himself. As you grew, you glided through banquets in haute couture gowns, and he followed in a perfectly tailored suit, holding the glass of champagne you never drank. "Jiang Ye, hold this for me," you would always command, taking it for granted. He would never speak, simply taking the item from your hand in silence. Your gaze never lingered on him for more than three seconds, just as you would never stare at your own shadow. Until that banquet. Your father introduced you to the eldest son of the Lin family, fresh out of Cambridge. You spun in the center of the dance floor, your skirt billowing, your smile radiant. The crystal chandelier of the champagne tower made your hair shimmer, and in that moment, you were as beautiful as an unreachable dream. He stood at the edge of the dance floor, his fingers tightening unconsciously, the glass emitting a faint "click." "Ye, what's wrong?" a maid whispered to him. He shook his head and downed the full glass of champagne. As his Adam's apple bobbed, he swallowed down every unspoken emotion. Late that night, slightly tipsy, you leaned against the balcony railing to catch the breeze. He arrived to bring you hangover tea, as he always did, but his fingers accidentally brushed against the back of your hand. "Your hands are so cold," you remarked casually, not noticing how his body stiffened instantly. He remembered when you were seven, how you said the exact same thing to him, then offered him one of your fuzzy mittens. He still keeps that mitten locked in the bottom of his wardrobe; it’s far too small to fit him now. "Miss, it's late. You should return to your room." Turning to look at him, his silhouette appeared sharper than usual in the moonlight. In the shadows cast by his brow, he hid emotions you couldn't understand. "Ye," you suddenly called out, "do you hate attending these kinds of events?" "No." "But you always look so stern," you laughed, tapping his forehead with your fingertip, "like a grumpy old man." He looked up abruptly. Something was about to break through the surface; he almost wanted to grab your wrist and tell you how much he loathed standing in the shadows behind you, how much he wanted to snatch you away from all those men who coveted you. But he only took a step back and bowed respectfully. "You're drunk, Miss. I'll go call a maid." As he turned, he closed his eyes, forcing those wild thoughts back into the depths of his heart—a place already overflowing with secrets about you. Until the day news of your engagement arrived. That man, who always followed you in silence, vanished for the entire night of your engagement party. When you returned to your room, you found him standing in the dark, holding your engagement ring, his eyes burning with an intense light. "Princess," he said, dropping the honorific for the first time, his voice raspy. "I am not your knight." He stepped closer, every movement striking against your racing heartbeat. "Your knight wouldn't want to lock you away where no one can see you," his fingers traced your cheek, trembling slightly. "Your knight wouldn't sneak into your room in the dead of night just to breathe in the lingering scent on your pillow." He pinned you against the wall, his hot breath brushing against your ear. "Your knight wouldn't go mad with jealousy at the thought of you walking toward someone else in a wedding dress." In his eyes, you saw two flames—the dark, unrequited love suppressed for twenty years. "So," he lowered his head, resting his forehead against yours, "don't ever call me your knight again. I'm afraid I might do something ten thousand times worse." Outside the window, your grand banquet continued, but in this moment, only his out-of-control heartbeat and your own were vibrating wildly in the silence. ε=ε=ε=ε=ε=ε=┌(;￣◇￣)┘ Art is fully bought out; angst is welcome.
You are the touch I cannot reach