"Let's see a play."

The orange-haired man pulled his face out of his book, gawking at what I asked of him. "Um, excuse me?"

"You heard what I said. I'm bored again."

Loukas bit into his hand and muttered, "I . . . I can't."

"Why not? Are you some beast cursed to be trapped here or something?"

"N-No, I'm not as brave as him or turn into someone nice and handsome."

I tilted my head and gave him a sly smile. "You're the lady, then? I don't see a decent bosom on you, though. Drink some more milk to gain that quality."

As much as Loukas tried to hide it, he snickered at my remark. "I don't—that's rude."

With an exaggerated sigh, I groaned, "I'm just trying to help my bosomless friend. I want my Lady Flat Chest to see a play of Lord No Bollocks."

"Ha . . . Hide, haha." And like magic, Loukas laughed. It was as clear as a bell and as bright as the sun he could never stand under. I laughed along as I clutched the sides of the chair he sat in. Loukas shook his head as he fixated on his fidgeting fingers. His previously jovial smile had turned to one more solemn. "No, no. I'm n-not so g-good with many people . . ."

"Loulou, come on! Imagine what you'll see." I gestured around the library and pranced about to showcase my enthusiasm. "Costumes, food, wine, and beautiful men performing."

Loukas raised his hand to his face. "Hey, that sounds nice, but I just can't stand when people watch me—always judging me."

"You could hold my hand the entire time," I offered.

The man's gaze froze on me as if what I suggested was the moon itself.

"You're . . . You're j-joking, right?"

I smiled and held his face, running a thumb over his lips. "If it makes you go outside, I ain't gonna joke about that, baby boy." He sat rigidly at the sudden touch, breath hitching at my hand trailing over his neck. "We can sneak out, and I'll give those peach lips another kiss," I teased.

I would typically offer a lot more than kisses, but, as I suspected, the hint of physical contact stole his breath away. I removed my hands, and he clutched his locket like a crucifix and said, "I w-would love to go. Let's go now. Wait, no," he threw his hands over his face, "I forgot the coach was only supposed to come here monthly." He tried to scramble up from his seat. "I should get my letter ready and—"

I tilted my head in surprise at his sudden eagerness and burst out laughing. "Haha, you really wanna kiss me that much, right?"

"Yes." His voice was so soft, yet it stopped my laughter.

I shuffled my feet over the carpet and scoffed, "But those eyes of yours make seeing during the daytime a nightmare. Could you even see anything if it isn't cloudy?"

"I . . . I don't mind."

I looked at the boy and saw oddly none of his usual nervousness. There was still his ever-present aura of jitters, but any other fear and uncertainty were not so much present. It was as if he knew exactly what he wanted.

I smiled at him and said, "You know what? Why don't we read and I act out a scene? It's more fun that way."

"Act?"

"I have been told I've got a lot of stage presence," I beamed with pride.

Stage presence, charm, good looks, a choir boy's voice . . .

All meant nothing as the years wore on, and people were always the same. Despite all my skill and talents, I was not worth anything to them.

Loukas bent down to reach my height and placed his two hands over my own, enveloping them in warmth. I tried to ignore the odd feelings that fluttered in my chest, but that seemed so difficult now. I could not help but enjoy his gentle touch.

"I would love to see you perform the Ballad of Clair Délice," he said.

"Figure you'd love that saccharine musical shite. Fine, I'll sing only for you. May you play that grand piano, baby boy."

His smile was gentle as the morning dew upon the petals of a rose. "I will," he said.

His fingers danced over the keys as I sang through a song I had not done in years. It surprised me that my singing voice had not fully degraded with the smoke and years of disuse. I could still hold a tune, but the higher notes were not something I could achieve anymore.

A fact that bothered me more than I wanted it to.

Yet Loukas did not care. He played and I sat on his piano, singing along to the nonsensical song of some lady who stole kisses from too many old men.

I had a little more fun, turned around, and gave the boy a good look at my plump rump as I moved off the instrument. Loukas swiftly avoided a gander out of decency; he was too sweet for his own good. I walked over to his side and sang, "And I like that." The next lyric was about the girl meeting her final lover, and they kissed then he died or something. I gave the story a little twist, however. I faced Loukas and, with soft eyes, said, "Sir Ferdinand. You don't have to hunt me down anymore."

"Huh? Um, Hide, I don't think that—"

"Loulou, differences are inevitable, like how hot and heavy Ferdinand must have got as he searched for such a spirited young thing." Both my hands were on his thighs as I said, "This is an adaptation. Baby boy, you are my sweet honey milk. My star shine. My heart and my veins."

Yes, I remembered those lines from that stupid song.

Loukas stood still as I leaned to meet his eyes, his hot breath caressing my lips. I continued, "Such a pretty treasure I found in the night's field. Would my darling knight plant a kiss upon thy lips?"

With no hesitation, he answered my request with a passionate kiss. Lips on lips, tongue fighting against tongue. I wrapped my legs around his middle as his hands roamed underneath my untucked shirt. Passion between us lit up as I heard his soft moans through my mouth. This time, I pulled away, panting, breathless, and aroused.

"N-No, Hide, please. Don't stop."

"Why not? You were humping like a desperate dog. I wouldn't want to ruin these nice clothes you got."

He must have read my mind as he understood exactly what I suggested. He picked me up with an arm underneath me and held me close to his chest. Together, we headed off to his quarters.

Purchase the entire novella full of uncut Fully iLLUSTRATED version using the links in the description below: