Hell's Book of Random One-shots

Take Me Away - Young Sir Thomas Sharpe

Another October, another dance held by my parents.

There was something about the changing of the seasons that brought out this need within my parents, a need to gather as many friends and connections as possible for some good food, some enchanting music and some thrilling conversations.

If you were an adult.

I, at barely the age of fourteen, was hardly on the cusp of adulthood and while I could appreciate the effort they went to with the decorations and other preparations which took months to prepare, I could not enjoy the company of adults only fawning over my 'wonderful dress' and 'beautiful hair' to get in my good books in hopes of winning my father's favour.

Adult business was tiring and I could never understand why they would agree to go to events hosted by those they couldn't stand, only to stab them viciously in the back and make snide comments while eyeing them from the corner of their hungry eyes.

They seemed to think that those my age didn't notice and, upon catching my eye, would give me a fake smile and a too eager compliment in the hopes of shooing me away faster.

Were they not my age once?

Surely, they would understand that my youth didn't make me foolish to their games, especially as school yard antics were no better.

There were a few others my age here or there to interact with, though our conversations tended to be stilted and awkward, mostly because I never knew what to say.

We may have been of the same age, but sometimes it felt that we were of very different worlds.

"I'm learning French, Italian and am considering learning Greek," one girl boasted to an enraptured young man.

"That's very impressive," I said with a smile.

"It is, isn't it?" She replied, turning to me, "and what about you?"

"Oh? Me? I'm afraid I'm not very good at languages."

"Hm," she hummed, turning her head away, "I suppose you wouldn't be."

I'd never had a smile falter so quickly, nor had I ever stammered as feebly as I had in that moment, the humiliation and frustration heating up my cheeks.

She hardly gave me a chance to recover before wandering off with her company on her heel, acting as though we hadn't been conversing and I was merely a shadow cast by the chandeliers above us.

That was the last conversation I attempted that night, deigning it not worth the torment.

It was hard to hide my lack of academical prowess from a collection of people so high up on the ladder, so instead I took a small plate of food, a small drink and slunk away into a neatly tucked away bench beneath the grand staircase to read a book.

This was a crook I had found during the third event my parents held in this manor, where I'd hidden during a game of hide and seek with other children.

An ideal place where I could lick my wounds while losing myself to another world of mystery and adventure, letting the music that was still barely noticeable from the dance hall lull me into a deeper trance of reading.

Pages were turned with eagerness to learn what secrets the young protagonists would uncover behind the hidden door in their dark Aunt's attic, would they finally find use of the key with the moth engraving up there?

Had their Uncle truly perished in an accident or was this a ruse concocted by the Aunt to claim an inheritance, as I suspected was the case.

Up the creaking wooden staircase they went, splinters and chunks of wood coming away and threatening harm as they cautiously stepped up, candelabra barely lighting the way as they reached for the brass doorknob-

"Your sandwich shall go stale if you choose to play statue rather than eat it."

I flinched at the intrusive voice, not having noticed that someone was genuinely approaching me, instead deducing that the sound of footsteps was merely my imagination getting sucked into the moment.

Looking up, I see a gaunt but not unattractive boy gazing down at me with an almost shy and uncertain smile.

If I were to hazard a guess, I'd have said that he was around my age, perhaps a little older.

His mop of dark hair was unkempt, his pale skin accentuated tired looking but still enchanting eyes and his features were gaunt, cheekbones hollow and stature thin and beginning to get too gangly for his ill-fitting shirt and trousers.

I didn't recognise him, I'd surely remember such a boy.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, looking to the floor, "I didn't mean to startle you."

"It's okay," I replied with my own faint smile, "I was simply lost in this story."

He merely nodded, wringing thin hands with broken nails in front of him as he shot quick glances towards the main hall doors.

"Do you mind if I join you? I was starting to feel faint and thought it best I found somewhere quieter to rest and gather myself."

"Oh, not at all."

I picked up my still full glass and carefully shuffled along the bench until my hip hit the plate on the other side.

"Thank you."

The stranger dipped his head before taking a seat beside me, tightly clasping his hands in his lap as he sat tensely, seemingly unable to relax.

A thick atmosphere grows between us, steadily becoming uncomfortable while neither of us find anything to say.

There was something almost otherworldly about him, as if he didn't belong among the masses collected beneath the roof we were under.

He wasn't as put together as the other guests and seemed skittish and on edge, ready to flee at a moment's notice.

As if I were making an excuse to my silence, I finished my food and then set my empty plate and book on the floor, tucked in the corner beneath the bench.

Upon sitting up straight once again, I straighten out the skirt to my dress and brush away imaginary dust, glancing at him with a soft, unsure little laugh.

"The air can ge-"

"My name is Tho-"

We both stopped and stared at the other, giving one another an awkward smile.

"Sorry," he said, "please, go ahead."

"No, no, you may have had the right idea," I smiled politely, holding my hand out to him and taking his lead to introduce myself more formally.

He took hold of my fingers and dipped his head to kiss my knuckles, an action which made my eyes widen and reddened my cheeks.

I near snatched my hand away to clasp it to my chest but managed to restrain myself despite not knowing what to do with myself in that moment.

No one had ever been that cordial with me, typically I would be greeted with a polite tip of the head or a short half-bow, this was new territory for me.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he straightened himself and looked at me with the most charming smile I had seen on a boy.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, my name is Thomas Sharpe."