He stood beside his father, one hand on the resting on a chair, the other cradling a class of red wine.
The scenery around him was nothing short of magnificent, gold lights glimmered against the darkness, casting soft lights on the surrounding greenery. Sweet fragrance from the flower hedges filled the atmosphere, a soft touch of melody from the violinists on stage adding the final piece to the exquisite ambience.
But all I could see was him.
How soft his features were when he was relaxed and in his element. None of those crease lines on his forehead, no knotted brows, just pure artistic perfection.
The perfect mask for the monster beneath.
He had not seen me yet. He laughed at something someone said, his usual ice cold eyes glistening.
I wasn't at ease though. Every step I took was like moving closer and closer to the guillotine which had especially been carved for me.
My heart was like a rock band at this point.
