A Game of Sorts// Kaden&&Millie

[CHRISTIAN REICHENBACH]

To look at Christian was to look at someone with good breeding. He was articulate, far more so than he let on. His facial features were a throw back to his Germanic heritage- flax hair, fair skin, a strong chin and jawline, fair blue eyes. But their were hints of the mosaic American he got from his Mother; too wide lips, large feet and hands. However, his accent gave zero traces of anything. Nothing Midwestern, nothing European. Nothing. It was as characterless as the examples in primary school writing books. Blank as a fresh canvas.

His breeding was exceptional, but his mind was a strange place. It was as neat as it was messy. A finely maintained and tuned instrument, played at a chavvy pub. At five he created his philosophy on living, at nine he fell in love. At twelve he broke into his first high security computer system- trained by his brilliant and lovely Aunt Eliza. When he was fourteen he made the choice to fly under the social radar, coasting on the appearance of average. Quite well, as it had not been figured out for three years, and by someone who put a great deal of effort into it. What a lovely challenge. And now, at seventeen, he was formulating what it was he had been so keenly preparing for.

A higher truth.

But all things need a break. And currently, that was just what he was doing. All work and no play makes Christian a dull boy, after all. And this was a matter he had allowed to go on for a bit too long. It would seem his Great Aunt Emilie had caught the attention of Kaden Allingham-Hemsworth formally Caden Allingham. A bastard, literally in this sense as Christian had never met him- though he hears quite figuratively also; a joyless fellow by all accounts. His nurse records said fibromyalgia, which was unfortunate given today's spring rain. It would certainly aggravate it. But whether this man was brilliant, even if he was on Christian's elevated level- this was not pride, but truth- he was quite annoying. Emilie was fond of him. Someone so...

Not Christian.

Oh, he was jealous, certainly. That was a prize well claimed ages ago. Christian had been in love with Emilie since she made her horse kick him square in the chest. His ribs were broken, he couldn't breath. He saw black, and then spots, and then Millie- speaking in rapid french that she didn't know it would be so hard. He secretly believed she had. And he loved her for it.

He was as much a masochist as he was a sadist.

God love her- if such a thing exists- because Christian did.

So, he was where he was technically not allowed. Christian laid on her bed, draped in his inordinate fashion, playing with his laptop. Or, more specifically, her computer. Oh, he was a clever boy. He knew his way out of one computer and into another. She'd get quite a shock when she found her home page on the internet to no longer be google, but to be quite graphic, midget porn site. However, when she checked her computer- Emilie kept a keystroke watch system on her computer, the clever girl- she'd find he had done nothing to it. It would certainly be amusing. But his main goal would be meeting and analyzing his virile young rival. Maybe in the process he'd learn something about Edith.

What good fun.

Christian's pretty outfit.

[EMILIE SIMONE]

Emilie had not meant to enjoy herself. Originally, a few months ago, this had been nothing more than an act. A sham, a search for a reaction of some sort, something, somewhere, from someone in particular. She was not afraid to admit this to herself now that it had become a bit more complicated. Though, Emilie had truly never been one to mind complicated, just so long as she got to sort things out how she liked them the end. At the moment, she told herself, she liked them just how they were.

She’d liked the dinner at the small but upscale restaurant. She’d liked the conversation and the sense that neither participant truly understood the other and perhaps liked the relationship a bit more for it. She liked the fact that it was a relationship, though in a decidedly un-giddy way. Giddiness was tacky. She quite enjoyed the kissing that had gone on while they’d walked after the dinner, small and private and gentle as it was, and the feel of his suit jacket around her shoulders, and she’d certainly the longer kiss in front of her dormitory door just now—the one that had left a smidge of lipstick just there, in the corner of Kaden’s mouth, and she liked the fact that she’d chosen not to tell him about it. It was…endearing, she supposed. Chances were he knew it was there anyhow.

“Now, you’ll have to be quiet if you’re up here,” she warned as she unlocked the door, turning her head to give him a small, close-lipped smile that didn’t quite hint at anything in particular. She was only speaking the truth, after all. Chances were college-age males weren’t allowed up to the girls’ dormitories on any business that wasn’t as family, and even then, she was sure, there were limits. Not that she was thrilled to be breaking the rules. Emilie didn’t take pleasure in such things. Rather, her dormitory was closer than his apartment, and he’d wanted to see where she lived, anyhow, and she’d supposed it would be fine just so long as they weren’t interrupted by her roommate. They wouldn’t be, though. Emilie made a point of staying away from the room when she might be in it, and memorizing her schedule just to make sure the only time their paths crossed was when sleeping was involved. There was no one else to worry about. Not tonight. No one even knew she’d been gone.

Turning the knob, Emilie’s keys disappeared back into her purse while she opened the door, pleased as ever to find there was no loud music or phone conversation signaling her roommate’s presence. “It isn’t much,” she admitted, speaking nothing but the truth. The whole thing, though large for a dorm room, was atrociously small considering how she’d been raised.

She stepped in and turned back to look at him, shrugging the jacket off her shoulders. “Here, I suppose you’ll be wanting this back…” she trailed off before she could finish, a decidedly unwelcome something having caught her attention out the corner of her eye. She turned, though of course she knew who it was and of course she’d been expecting something of the sort of happen because honestly, Christian could never seem to help but stick his nose where it wasn’t welcome when it came to her life. Maybe that was a bit of the reason she’d accepted the jacket, or let her make-up rub its way onto Kaden’s cheek. Maybe, maybe not.

Emile crossed her arms and stared at her Great Nephew for a moment with a complete lack of surprise and demanded in a quiet voice that, although suddenly sucked of the moderate warmth she’d used with Kaden, remained subtle enough not to be entirely rude in front of her guest “What are you doing?”

Jolie petite chanteuse.

[KADEN ALLINGHAM-HEMSWORTH]

He’d been wanting to see where she lived for a long time. But now that the opportunity was fully available to him, for some ungodly reason, he was feeling rather less excited about the prospect.

Ah, high school. He sighed almost wistfully at memories of his own secondary education as his…girlfriend, of sorts, perhaps, led him up a grey staircase that simply reeked of adolescence. “What lovely decorating,” he remarked with his usual brusqueness, as he ascended the stairs, joints creaking painfully with each thud of his shoes upon what felt like a cinderblock floor. As a recent college graduate, he was often quick to forget how utterly young Emilie Simone was. Her manner of speaking and overall demeanor were much more eloquent and mature than those with which he tended to associate his high school acquaintances. He remembered little of his high school years, except that he’d found his classmates terribly dull. Their trivial discussions of “prom”, “dating”, “television”, “celebrities”, had interested him little, and he remembered taking it upon himself to avoid them as best he could.

Returning to this high school dormitory was a bit of a stark reminder to him that the woman he’d been seeing for the past few months was, in fact, a member of this mundane sect of human society from which he’d been so careful to dissociate himself after his matriculation at Barrie University.

Sure, he missed the carefree aspects, the financial security, the lack of pressure in the “planning for the future” regard, but in terms of the lack of purpose in life, the lack of freedom, the lack of intelligent compatriots? No, he’d choose the adult life any day. And something told him that Ms. Simone would have done the same.

Even his deductive mind had trouble pinpointing exactly what about this excursion was making him uneasy. He supposed part of it could be the age-revelation thing. Another possible explanation was that this was, at least in part, a bit of a douse of cold water for him. Emilie Simone had been a bit of a figurehead in his mind, an icon, something perfect and beautiful that he’d always longed to own completely and be a part of entirely. But a dwelling place was a place of weakness, a peek into one’s most vulnerable aspect. This whole affair was revealing, step by painful step, how young his flawless companion truly was. The bedroom could only further this process. Still, this was only a theory.

But as she opened the door, he suddenly saw, sitting before him, the precise reason for his uneasy feeling.

Oh dear.

”Greetings, Christian,” he said icily.

Outfit