His Little Flower (Felix and Flora)



Chapter 72

I licked my lips in nervousness. I had known he would ask me this. But I hadn't yet thought of what to say to him.

What could I even say? I didn't even know half the things myself. I only knew what I saw. I knew what I had felt, what I had been through. I knew of the weird behaviour of my father. I knew of the threats he had sent my way, forcing me not to contact Felix, or any of the Corsinos. Even Tilly.

And I was still afraid of him. He was still a threat, and even if I got hurt again, I couldn't bring Felix into all this by telling him what had happened.

Five years of gnawing silence hung heavy in the air, a storm brewing in Felix's emerald eyes. He held my gaze, his jaw clenched tight, his knuckles white on his clenched fists. "Tell me, Flora," he rasped, his voice sandpaper rough. "Tell me what happened that night."

Five years had carved canyons in my soul, and in Felix's, too. The air in the room crackled with the unspoken storm raging within both of us. His emerald eyes shone in the artificially lit room as he stared at me. His eyes were filled with rage, hope, desperation.

"Tell me, Flora," his voice raked across the silence. He repeated his words. "Tell me what happened that night."

My heart echoed the emptiness in his gaze. "There's nothing to tell," I repeated, the words tasting like dust on my tongue. It was the mantra I'd clung to for five years, the wall I'd built around that night, brick by emotionless brick. Rehearsed answers were all I could give him.

I don't know, Felix. There is nothing to tell, Felix.

But tonight, the wind howled differently. The wall threatened to crumble under the storm in his eyes, the vulnerability beneath the anger tearing at my resolve.

If he touched my once. If he begged once more. If he looked at me for much longer with that soft vulnerability in his eyes, I'd break and crumble. I'd spill.

Felix's hand shot out, a desperate plea cupping my face. "Please," he rasped, his voice cracking. "Just... let me in. Whatever it is, I can handle it. Just... tell me, Flora."

My mask faltered, a tremor I couldn't hide. The raw pain in his voice, the echo of my own in his plea, tugged at the tattered remnants of my courage. But the memories, icy shards in a frozen lake, threatened to pierce me if I stepped onto the thin ice. And the fear of my father gripped me. It held on to my tongue like claws.

"I... I can't," I whispered, the words heavy with unshed tears. "It's... too much."

There was so much to say. And yet, there was nothing.

Felix recoiled as if I had slapped him, his face crumpling in despair. He stood abruptly, pacing the room like a caged lion, the despair in his eyes morphing into something primal, dangerous. "Too much?!" he roared, his voice a tortured echo in the small space. We were making so much noise, I wondered if the other's in the servant quarters could hear us. "Flora, five years! Five years of this silence, of wondering, of fearing the worst! I thought you were dead, Flora! You disappeared off the face of the earth. Don't I deserve an answer? Don't I deserve... peace?"

His voice cracked on the last word, a plea swallowed by the storm of his emotions. I watched him, my heart an anvil in my chest, beating so hard, so painfully, every unanswered question he spat out ringing like a blow to my face. He deserved everything - the truth, the closure, the solace I denied him.

The silence stretched, a chasm yawning between us. Finally, Felix stopped, his back to me, his broad shoulders slumped in defeat.

"Fine," he said, his voice a desolate echo. "Keep it to yourself, Flora. God knows how much you have changed. How selfish you've become."

He turned, his steps heavy with resignation, each one a drumbeat against my conscience. My throat tightened, the unshed tears blurring my vision. As he reached the door, he paused, his voice barely a whisper.

"I loved you, Flora," he said, the words laced with a bitterness that mirrored the one festering in my own soul. It felt like the air had been knocked out of my lungs. He loved me. Loved. "For all the things we were to each other, for all the promises we made, this is the least you could do for me."

He left, leaving behind a hollow echo and a deafening silence that screamed his accusation: I was selfish, a keeper of secrets, a betrayer of love.

Sleep wouldn't come that night. The ghosts of the past held a raucous party in my mind, their mocking whispers filling the void left by Felix's absence. Morning came fast and painted the sky a pale blue color, but the darkness within me held fast. I didn't have it in me to face him.noveldrama