His Little Flower (Felix and Flora)

I tidied up the room quickly, making the bed, wiping the window panes and dusting all the furniture. I checked in on the washroom to make sure it was clean. It was, but I wiped the counter and the mirror once, just in case. Satisfied with my work, I went back downstairs to the kitchen. Lydia was chopping up vegetables.

“Settled in the master bed.” I told her. “Can I help with lunch?”

She gave me the vegetables and the chopping board, and went to work on something else herself. We worked in silence for a minute, before I spoke, “It’s a beautiful house.”

She hummed in agreement. “The master has worked very hard on it. He designed the interior himself.”

“Oh, what kind of work is he in?” Maybe he was in the creative field, an interior designer or something, or an architect.

Lydia shrugged. “Real estate.”

I nodded. That made sense. It explained the money. “Have you met the owners?” I inquired, “Are they nice?”

She smiled and looked up at me. “Yes, honey. I’ve known them for years, now. I used to work for the master’s parents,” She explained, “He’s a wonderful boy. Kind and caring. When you meet him, he might come off a bit rude, but he has a heart of gold.” I smiled at her description. She clearly had a soft spot for him. From her description, he seemed great.

“You’re a very pretty girl, Flora.” Lydia said softly. She took the plate of chopped vegetables from me, and handed me some cherries to pit. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

I shook my head. I barely had time for myself, a relationship would be so hard to manage. Besides, my father wouldn’t be too happy with it, I think.

“You should meet my son!” She exclaimed. “Liam. He works security on the compound.” I didn’t want to meet her son, but I nodded in agreement anyway.

“The cherries are for dessert, after dinner.” Lydia explained. “Nothing much to do right now. For lunch we’ll do a simple salad.”

I began to pit the cherries. “Can I make a cherry cobbler for dessert?” I asked Lydia. She would like that I was taking initiative. Besides, I made a mean cherry cobbler. Lydia smiled widely. “Sounds wonderful!”

We spent the rest of the morning working. I worked on my cherry cobbler, and Lydia made a jam from strawberries, because the master loved it. We chatted a bit, and she told me he was very particular about his habits. He didn’t drink packaged drinks, didn’t eat plastic cheese, didn’t eat deli meats, only had a certain brand of coffee, and always had eggs for breakfast. She also told me more about her son, and asked me questions about my own life. I told her the little I had to share. I lived with my father. I didn’t have siblings. I lied about a little – about my childhood, about my mother. This belongs to NôvelDrama.Org: ©.

We heard a car pull in around 11 45, and Lydia announced cheerfully, “That must be him! Come out, we’ll go greet him.”

I wiped my hands on my apron, the red juices of the cherries on my fingertips leaving a faint pink on the white. Tightening my ponytail, I followed Lydia out to the door. I stood behind her, my hands crossed behind me, a small smile plastered on my face.

I peaked from behind Lydia, as a tall man stepped out of the car. I was expecting two people, like I had been told, but it was just him. I couldn’t see his face yet, but he was really tall, and had long-ish

black hair, like they hadn’t been cut in a while.

I stepped to the side as he began to walk inside, and now I couldn’t see anything for a second. “Lydia!” The man said cheerfully. My heart sank. I knew this voice. I knew this man.

Lydia stepped to the side, looking back at me with a smile, revealing me to my employer. “Felix, this is Flora White. She’ll be helping around the house. Flora, this is Felix Corsino, the master.”

He had aged, was the first thing I thought. He looked older, more mature. He was a man now. The last time I had seen him, he had just turned eighteen. His hair was shorter then, and his face was filled with boyish charm and innocence. That was gone now, replaced by the hardness that growing up accorded. My eyes met his, and my breath caught in my throat. His expression didn’t change. I think I looked at him for minutes, hours maybe, or maybe it was a few seconds. Felix. My Felix. I wanted to throw myself at him, to feel his arms around me again, to fall at his feet and apologize over and over and over. He spoke before I had the chance to, “Miss White.” He nodded curtly.

“Its nice to meet you, Mr. Corsino.” I let out in a jumble of words. Didn’t he recognize me? Didn’t he know it was me? Had I changed so much? Had he changed? Had he…forgotten me?

I searched his face for his eyes to meet mine again, but he only looked at Lydia, refusing to pay me another glance. “I’ll eat at one.” He informed her, then walked off, brushing past me, like I was invisible, like I was nothing. But it was true. I was nothing, now. Invisible. Irrelevant.