Young Writers Society

A/N: Hello, everybody! Fast update, eh? This is the last chapter I am adding before I leave for Spain. I am going to be absent for all the next week, so I assume it will take a little more to update this story. I hope you can notice the small (be it tiny ) change in William's behaviour, because from now on I don't think he'll ever dare to hurt Rose again.

Enjoy!

PS: I'm running out of paintings that fit my novel! xD Apparently, 18th/19th century artists did not make many paintings depicting love themes... and couples in general.

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I had been going to the theatre three days in a row, but did not see Rose there. After that, I had given up the chance that I might meet her again there. Our paths had been separated once again for a while. What's more, I had to postpone the rehearsals for our play, thus the chances we would ever meet in the near future were decreasing remarkably.

Not seeing her for a week or so turned out to be the best way to set my heart on fire. I was drugged, hypnotised by her once again, but completely helpless. I was bound to my dignity not to search for her. Each morning I felt an itch to write her another letter, thinking that I had probably not made my point clear in the one before; every day I had been confronted with a desire to go after her, but in the end I did not do either of these.

And so, after almost two weeks of being on our own, it occurred that I encountered her by chance one evening. It happened on the stairs of the theatre. I was just leaving and on my way to meet Henry, she – on the opposite. Our eyes made contact for a blink of eye as I descended the stairs and she ascended them, causing our paths to meet. With no second thoughts, I measured the distance between us as it decreased and caught her to me, at the same time preserving some distance between us.

"William!" she startled, then smiled. There followed an awkward moment of silence as her eyes descended to my hands, and we both realised that I was still holding her hands. I let go of her so clumsily, that apparently I had just given her a reason to chuckle. "I never thought I'd meet you here again. Do you not fancy the theatre anymore? Or perhaps it is the thought that we might meet here that you do not…"

"I haven't been to it lately." Apparently, opposed to what I had thought, she had been expecting me at the theatre those past days.

"I see. Were you…were you in a hurry?" she asked me, preserving a warm smile upon her face.

"Not at all," I lied. "Were you?"

"I was going to see a play, but I might change my mind and go for a walk instead… if I find a decently pleasant person to accompany me, that is."

"Would it be destiny if I told you the right person is standing right in front of you, willing to accept your invitation?"

"I would rather call it overestimation. How typical of you!" she laughed softly to herself. "You see, I might be a presence too dull, now that there is nothing else you do not know about me."

"Let me be the judge of this. Is there some place where we could go, though? I wish to have a word with you." She approved with a nod as we turned the corer of the theatre. It is, as I assume, needless to mention that I did not meet Henry that day. I would've been a fool to let Rose slip through my fingers again

It seemed that, whichever misunderstanding had stood between us, now was gone. She might have forgotten the wrongs I'd done to her, but I could not help but feel guilty. Nevertheless, during our whole time spent together that day, she never questioned me, never brought up the past. It was I who did these. And even then, she preserved that warm smile on her crimson-red lips. What reckless reason had caused me to hurt her, when she'd been so sensitive all of this time, under that tough appearance of her… I did not know. I came to think that it must be in the nature of a man to hurt a woman, and in a woman's kind, sensitive soul to forgive him.


Sitting by the window, I watched the dance of the leaves in the wind. Gone was the summer that united William and I. I wondered what the autumn that was at hand could bring to us. Would it be a new beginning for our love or had our passion gone along with the summer? Did it indeed last only a season, then withered like the leaves that were falling before my eyes?

Over the past hours, I had been recalling all the moments that we had shared. Right now I had one more moment thereto to remember… One more line to echo inside of my head as a reminder of my humble condition – that of a courtesan.



'I love you.' – Three simple words, four letters or less each. I could not get them out of my mind. It had all started on the stairs of the theatre, and continued in the bar to which he had led me.
***
"Rose… I am ready to admit… that I've done you many wrongs." This is how the conversation had started. A glass of wine, his eyes on me… and few people around us. The atmosphere was intimate, perhaps a little too informal given the situation we were in. I looked away every time that he expected an answer from me, discreetly avoiding any subject that would bring the past into discussion.

"Should we truly talk about this, right now? It makes me uncomfortable." My sole desire was to forget about what had happened, when all he was doing was to remind me of it… not of his fault, but, indirectly, of mine. I must've forgiven him anyway sometime between the letters we had exchanged. It was myself whom I had to forgive.

"But you must know –"

"William, I know that you're sorry. Truly I do; I can read it in your eyes, and I feel you are being sincere. So let's just forget about the past, and live for the future. Shall we?"

"And what does the future hold for us?"

"I do not know. This is for us to discover. Thus why bother searching for answers in the past, when there are so many questions that the future has for us?" We finished our wine in silence. The drink left me a bitter taste, or perhaps it was our conversation that did this. The piano sonata that William had played to me some time ago came to my mind, filling my head with memories. I looked at him – he seemed quite absent-minded. William's glance followed mine, then passed me, stopping to stare somewhere beyond me.

Our eyes meet again after a while, and that was the moment I had been brought back to the present moment by his voice. "I love you." I winced at those three words, questioning the reality. I could not tell whether it was my imagination that played with my hearing,

"Excuse me, what did you –"I asked, my hands shaking with the empty glass in them.

"I love you. I said that I love you." Nonsense! Men could not fall in love with women like me. I turned my head to my side, avoiding our eyes to meet. William seemed quite amused by my aversion. "There's no need to pretend you did not hear just to make me say it one more time. I'll tell you a thousand times if you wish it, anyway," he said in a light tone. He could not know, though, how heavy my thoughts were.

"William… You should not say this if you don't mean it."

"I wouldn't have said it had I not meant it."

"Don't make a fool out of me. You can't. You might now, but –"'But you will never marry me,' I wished to say, but kept it to myself. After all, men never marry women of my rang...

I cursed Ralph for his last words. If it hadn't been for him, I might've never faced this problem. It was him that had opened my eyes. "It will not last. Our love is like a flower, William – beautiful when in bloom, but lasts only for a season."

"You are leaving me at the impossibility to prove you the opposite." With these words, we put an end to our conversation. I don't remember exchanging any other words after. Nor wouldn't I have paid attention to them. I was too succumbed to the many doubts that troubled my mind.

Short after, we left the bar. William asked me if I wished for him to take me home, but I was not listening. "Rose?" He asked me again, seeing that I did not give an answer. "Is there something wrong?"

"Excuse me, I was not paying attention. I think I know the way myself, thank you," I formally refused.

"What is the matter with you?" he asked me, seizing my arm. "You've been acting strange since our talk…"

"I'm sorry, William, but you came into my life too soon. What did you expect, that I'd jump into your arms?"

"You could at least try to hide that hate you feel for me."

"Don't say that! I do not hate you, and you know it very well… but it's been too much, all of a sudden. I don't even know what is wrong with me."

"You are scared of being hurt again. This is what's wrong."

"That's not true, don't pretend you know better how I feel…"

"Then why won't you tell me, so I can help you? You're making the same mistakes, by keeping secrets between us. I've been honest with you. Perhaps I should've withheld from telling you the truth as well."

"Truth? Lies!" I protested, "you can not love me, can't you understand, I know it for su–" I did not have the chance to end that statement. Before any other words could escape my lips, he trapped me with a kiss. If that were the punishment for my cold, reticent attitude, then I would gladly spend the rest of my life denying my love for him. It had been divine, but lasted too little, just so long as to shut my mouth… and eventually his.

William drew apart, somehow ashamed by his insistence. "I apologise. Perhaps I should give you time to think it over." With those words and the same distant, reserved attitude that I previously adopted… we said goodbye.
***
I must've hurt him that day. Surely my reaction surprised him; it was not what one expects to receive when confessing his love.

For the past hours I had been thinking it over again and again, and still did I not know what to do. Perhaps I was indeed afraid of starting all over. I've had my share of relationships. There had been some even more passionate than mine with William. In the end, none of my lovers had come back to me. How was I to know if it will last… this time of all?

I could resist one or two hours without him, even more… But after spending one full day by myself, pondering upon the same troubling thoughts, I wished to see William so intensely… that I could not stand being without him anymore.

I waited for him to come, thinking that it would make it easier for me. I was certain that if he only knocked at my door, I would fall in his arms, willing to start all over. With each passing day, however, I was beginning to realise that day would never come. William had no reason to insist now, after treating him with such reticence.

In the end, I was the one who had to make the first move and pay him a visit. And so I've found myself rushing through the town, heading for his place… and in front of his apartment. When I reached my destination, I paused for a moment to calm my racing heart, and then knocked at his door.

The door opened and I saw William's figure – surprised by the sight of me – catching shape in the shadow. "Have I come at a wrong time?"

"No, not in the least. Though I was not expecting too see you so soon."

Crossing the threshold, I noticed papers spread all over his desk, and some even on the floor. His room was quite a mess. "I apologise, I didn't thought that you'd be working… I disturbed you, didn't I?"

"You did not." He hurried to clear the floor from papers and piled them on the desk. "I finished the play some minutes ago, I should've thrown these to the bin. I heard the rehearsals are scheduled for the next week or so." I could not care less about this, when all I wanted to do was to close that gap between us. "Want to read the end of the play? You'd be the first person to know what's happening in the last act." I looked around the room. The papers that stood on his desk were, most of them – unfinished. The writing ended somewhere in the middle of the pages, and there were gaps between words. William had been kind to deny that I was a pain in his neck, but I was sure he was busy to the hilt.

"Maybe some other time… I only wish to know… does it have a happy ending?"

"I wouldn't say that…"

"What about our love?" My lips trembled as I spoke.

"Our love…" he neared me as his voice trailed off, "it depends on us. It might have a happy ending, or it might last forever and not have an ending at all. That is for us to discover. Didn't you say so last time we met?" My head was growing heavier with every word of his. "At any rate, we won't find out, if we keep on acting like strangers."

I rested my head against his chest, diminishing the space between us. "Then how do I know for sure that I won't be hurt again, William? How do we know it's love?"

Here we were, two grownups on the outside – adolescents on the inside – searching for love and its meaning. In that instant, I was not a woman, but a young girl who was experiencing love for the first time. All of my previous affairs had been erased from my past.

"We don't. There is no science behind it, Rose. You have to trust." William was right. I've been such a fool. It must be that when one does not have any problems, he makes them up himself. Why was I bothering with such questions when I should've lived the life I've been given with him instead? The fact is, in love you lose control, and that is one thing I'd been used to owning. I had been too afraid to surrender myself to a man of whose feelings I could not be certain.

Overwhelmed by questions with no answers, I threw myself in his arms. I decided to put an end to this painful quest for answers. He lifted my chin, looking in my eyes. I felt him coming closer, our faces only a few millimetres away, his breath – a soft tingle against my skin. I was certain then that there was no misunderstanding between us no more. My heart was racing; my cheeks were burning, and I knew I was yearning for the most intimate connection between a woman and a man.

I felt a flush with fever as he moved his hands all over my face, and under my chin, caressing my face, anticipating a night of passion. Lifting me in his arms, he walked with me to the bed, and let go of me slowly. Then, out of the blue, he drew apart and we broke the contact.

"William? What's wrong? Don't you love me no more?" With every passing second, I was beginning to grow uneasy, and my head started to hurt a little.

"Lay down for a while, will you? You are not feeling well."

"I'm perfectly fine," I protested, refusing to let go of him.

"No, you aren't," he spoke as he took one of my hands in his and brought it to my forehead. "See? You're burning with fever. Be still now, I am going to bring you some cold water." With this, he left the room. It was true, only that I had just realised it. I was exhausted to the point that the room seemed to spin around me. I stretched out on the bed as I waited for William to return. I did not wish to be alone that night.

Every time I was sick, Ralph used to bring me a doctor, and then walk away from me. He had never taken care of me, taking advantage of every opportunity to abandon me, without the need to make up a reason. I feared the story could repeat itself. It seems I was wrong, though. My fears were false with no solid reason behind.

Since he returned from the other room, William had remained at the edge of the bed, brushing a piece of cloth soaked in cold water over my forehead until the temperature started to decrease. He'd been so affectionate and considerate towards me… that it made me feel so well and secure – better than any game of passion could ever make me feel. He never knew, though, how grateful I was to him for standing by my side that night.



The next morning, Rose was healthy as ever. I had never seen a face shining with such joy. I was still not eager to let her return home by herself. "Are you certain you're fine now?"

"Certainly," she confirmed with a bright smile.

"Still I insist that I take you home."

"I'm alright, William. You should stay home and finish your work. Mr. Wright is counting on you. You should not disappoint him."

"What work? I don't –"

"There's no need to contradict me. I know you were still working when I burst in upon you yesterday…"

"How well you must know me!" I smiled to myself at her remark. "Well then, you will at least permit me to bid you farewell properly." Leaning over, I kissed her with incredible tenderness. I did not know what force had gotten into me… that made me love her at such great extent after that night. Perhaps it was because of her dependence to me. Every time she appeared so weak and submissive, I could not keep back my instinct. I wished to be her protector, to shield her from any possible harm.

A knock at the door caused us to draw away. I opened the door, and found the one person that I did not wish to see right then. "Henry!" I watched my friend studying me and Rose carefully, as if he was about to give a verdict on us.

All of this time, I hid our relationship from Henry. I did not trust him, especially after I had heard his opinion on courtesans that day, at the theatre. No matter how much I avoided him seeing us together, he saw us hand in hand. This time, it happened that he found out the truth.

I let go of her hand slowly. Henry greeted both of us, and Rose greeted him back. I kept my manners to myself, since Henry looked quite angry. From the look of him, I could foretell an unpleasant dispute.

"Excuse me for coming so early, William, but we need to talk. When and where should we meet? I see you are busy now."

"Not at all, I was just leaving," Rose interfered. "Goodbye, William. Thank you for everything," she said, then turned to Henry and said goodbye to him as well.

"What is the meaning of this, William?" Henry started to argue, as soon as Rose had left. "Where have you been, I've waited you that day…"

"Excuse me, but I had other business much more important than ours. I have been working on that play and –"

"And wasting time with women. She is that girl from the theatre, Scarlet's friend, isn't she? Have you at least any idea of who she is? Oh, my friend, I hate to be the one to tell you this… I should've told you as soon as I found out… but she lied to you. You know, she is –"

"Was. Thank you for informing me, Henry, but I already know about her past."

"And you are still with her?"

"I would greatly appreciate it if you could mind your own business, and give me those acts instead. I want to sign them."

"Have you lost your mind? You refused to sign them when the time was right. I won't let you sign this contract now, when the market is falling… just because some weeks ago you were overly busy with some who–"

"Mind your words, Henry," I cut him off. I could not allow anyone insult Rose, much less Henry. "Say this one more time and I shall forget the friendship that once stood between our families. Now give me the acts!"

"Fine," he said then handed me the papers. "Sign them. You will regret, sooner or later; I guarantee it."

I ignored Henry's words and signed the contract anyway. I needed this contract if I wished to be with Rose. I wished to buy her at least a part of happiness, so that she would never suffered because of money.

I find it very interesting in spite of the fact that I didn't read the first chapters.
Your way of writing is incredible, I wish I can write a novel like you do. Normally I should be here to review your work but I feel that my capacities are too low to do so. I beg you to give a piece of advice on how to produce short stories