Chương 11: Friendly Hour
Histoire was a few inches away from the door when three knocks reverberated through the air and startled her. She withdrew her arm and applied all her weight to her right leg, managing to stay upright without the physical support of any other object.
"Who is it?" Jotham had a spare key and she assumed it would not be him. She had her suspicions and when she heard a familiar voice she sighed both in relief and frustration. Not a second after she sighed, she heard the door 'click', then it swung with such velocity that she almost lost her balance. Had she been an inch closer, the wooden door would've, by no doubt, struck her chin.
She stumbled her way back to the stairs' railing, where she gripped it with desperation. By then Deus had already entered the room and closed the door behind him.
"Aren't we nervous?" He commented at seeing her breathing heavily. A scowl played on her face, which soon showed fury when she heard the insensitive man speak.
"You may relax now. I'm not here to harm you," he added smugly and pressed his back against the door, his hands buried deep in his pockets. Histoire was not pleased with his attitude, let alone his manner of entrance.
"I'm well aware," she hissed through clenched teeth, "What with you almost hitting me with the door and all that. I'm ecstatic about how you always find a way to try and harm me every time you appear."
"And I'm glad you have enough energy to make such a racket. There's no need to be so hostile towards me." He stood up straight and walked to the small window by the door. He then partially pushed the curtain aside and peered past the window at what Histoire assumed was his house.
"How did you open the door?" Histoire asked, sitting down on the first step when her left leg could no longer tolerate the strain. Too much movement and she could tear a muscle again.
"I have my methods," he replied absentmindedly. He didn't even bother to face her as he spoke and instead kept his eyes locked on what was taking place outside, if anything was occurring at all. Histoire could not see past his tall figure nor was she curious enough to actually want to know. She was far too concerned with her own matters.
"And why are you here? If you have more threats you feel you want to dish out to me, then don't. I haven't muttered a single word to a single soul," Histoire said to hear him sigh and move away from the window.
"You're one mean-spirited woman. Threats are not the only tongue I am capable of speaking." He stopped in the middle of the foyer and turned his head to scan the room. It was tranquil, too much at that. For the first time since he visited the Jaegers' house after they moved away, he noticed there were no other presences.
"I presume you are alone?" He finally brought his attention back to her to see the expression on her face. Of course, by alone, he did not refer to the current moment of stillness and tranquility. He wondered if she truly lived an isolated life without the assistance of any servants, especially now that she was injured.
"And as lonely as a shrub in the desert," Histoire replied, noticing she was uncomfortably seated on the step. She wanted to restrict her movements and decided to remain there.
"And Jotham? I thought he said he moved in with you?" Deus asked next, confirming to Histoire that he and Jotham truly were close friends. No employer would be aware of this much occurring in an employee's life unless they had formed a certain bond.
"He's at the campus," she simply said.
"What a shame. I won't be able to keep you company for long," and he said. Neither of the two interrupted the peaceful silence that fell over them. Histoire kept to herself, wondering how it came to be that Deus was standing before her again. Promises were made and misunderstandings were cleared, much to her satisfaction. There was nothing else she felt needed to be discussed.
"I don't want to sound ungrateful..." Histoire began, breaking the silence. Deus cocked a thin, dark eyebrow in curiousity.
"But I suppose you understand why I would like to keep my distance from you." He could not lie or try to deceive her, but he was aware of her aversion to his presence. She took meeting him yesterday as a first encounter. He gave her a terrible impression of himself and his intentions.
The main reason Histoire did not take a liking to Deus was quite different yet similar to what he thought was the truth. Had Jotham neglected to elaborate on a particular point, she would've have failed to come to this conjecture, thus a reason to consider Deus an enemy.
"Unfortunately for you, I can't oblige with that," he replied, "There's no guarantee you can be trusted. I do consider you an old friend, but there are limitations to how much trust I can invest in you."
She sighed at hearing his explanation. A simple promise would not suffice and she understood the reason for his anxiety.
Histoire came to this conjecture after spending hours meditating on one simple certainty: that Jotham happened to come across a male figure he instantly recognised as his love's father. Jotham could not have been mistaken.
While Bastian's style of dressing was standard, and his hair an onyx black that reflected the parallelism of his daughter's, two things made him prominent from any crowd. The first was the distinct aura that was capable of disarranging the atmosphere, and the second was the scar which cut through half his face, from below his earlobe and up until it disappeared by the edge of his mouth. That alone was enough to convince any one that the man was a figure demanding of respect.
More times than once, as a child Jotham was convinced that Bastain was a dangerous man. He never looked forward to seeing him when he came over to play with Histoire.
Histoire watched Deus' frame with narrowed eyes, radiating suspicion that he caught on to in a matter of seconds.
"I see you can't be trusted either. You obviously think of me as some nitwit. Well, I'm not as stupid as I seem. There's no point to keeping secrets anymore, Deus," she said accusingly, watching as a smirk appeared on his face. He took a step forward until he was only a few inches away from her body. His shadow covered her entire frame as he hovered over her, causing her to look up at his gray eyes.
"Secrets? What makes you believe I'm keeping secrets from you?" He asked coolly, watching her closely and not at the same time. Histoire's eyes, her contact lenses, were far too distracting. They resembled the jade vine, a kaleidoscope of jade, emerald and turquoise. They concealed a mystery of their own.
"You don't strike me as the altruistic type," Histoire said, "Even if you were, your generous behaviour is too much for me to disregard. I'm not ungrateful, as I said, but you could've left me to my own devices. Yet you called for you own personal doctor to treat me. I'm not naive enough to believe the bill was inexpensive, yet you covered the costs.
"Not only that, you gave Jotham a paid week off from work. I doubt you did all of this under the notion of me being a stranger or an old friend. You're trying to buy my soul."
She did not want to admit another factor that contributed to her final conclusion, a factor that involved Jotham and would definitely break his heart if he were to find out. Deus released a half suppressed laughter. He was amused and astounded. She really was not as stupid as he had made her out to be.
"What a wild imagination you have there. But you're far from being wrong. Your father is a difficult man, but I would never imagine you being able to persuade him to my liking in any manner," Deus stated, intentionally exasperating Histoire. The frown on her face proved her aversion to his character.
"I admit, I came here with the intention of 'buying your soul'," he added with a tone that emphasised a certain phrase, "The sole reason behind that-"
Both turned their heads to the door when its creaking reached their ears. Upon entry, Jotham immediately read the atmosphere, realising he interrupted a conversation. Deus turned and walked away from Histoire, ignoring her remark for him to continue his explanation.
"Deus, what a surprise." Jotham had in both hands two bags carrying his belongings. Histoire had to restrain herself from rolling her eyes in annoyance.
"Don't mind him, Jotham. He was just leaving," she called out to said man and held onto the railing to stand upright. She could not tolerate being in Deus' presence any longer.
"Wait, let me help-" Jotham attempted to say before he realised she did not need any assistance any more. She would not have allowed him to help her anyway, as she waved him off before disappearing out of sight. She limped to her room where she was finally able to release her anger by slamming the door so hard it shook its hinges.
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