Monthly Bonus Content #2: 'A Vain Hope' (Ms. Verner and Reese's Cat) (Patreon)
Content
[Alternate Text: An image of two white lilies against a shadowy black background. 'A Vain Hope' acts as the title in a white font with a slightly blurry effect around it.]
[Sidenote: I promise you all will learn the cat's name in Book Two, but I want it to be revealed in the game, so I used [Redacted] for now. XD JR-mancers have a better chance of guessing it off the top of their heads. R is quite proud of the name. 😻]
_ _ _
When does a habit become a bad one…?
She is painfully aware of the definition of insanity; therefore, this habit should be classified as 'bad'.
The faint echo of an antique musical clock in the sitting room still plays on the edge of her hearing, bouncing off the Verner mansion's many walls. It is now exactly 8:00pm. The work day has ended and night starts to blanket Fernweh, but she's standing by the front door instead of working diligently in her office. She never observed typical working conventions, neither did he, but a stopping point had to be set once Reese came into their lives, a designated endpoint.
Her hand falls away from the door handle that has grown warm beneath her continued touch, eyes similarly falling away from the wrought-iron gates at the end of the absurdly long driveway.
That is when she finally bothers to acknowledge it.
A bouquet of startlingly white lilies is perched on the edge of the front steps.
Ms. Verner opens the door, unlocking the deadbolt with muted affront at having nearly pinched her finger in the metal mechanism in her haste to undo it. No one is outside; she checks before opening the heavy door, gradually pulling it open to invite some of the cool air inside. A flash of ebony darting out the newly ajar door startles her enough to curse because she was already on edge and should have known better. He always skulks around her at this time. “Damn cat...”
[Redacted] ignores the offense flung at him, nimbly walking over to the flowers as if they were sent for him alone and she is his stuffy butler. He sniffs them, tail lashing side to side, before sitting primly by the arrangement to stake claim to the gift. His golden-yellow eyes turn upwards to train on Ms. Verner, waiting for her to move his latest acquisition indoors so it can be enjoyed in the comfort of the mansion. She simply stares down until it extends well beyond a minute.
"You are insufferable…”
Reese would judge her for speaking to his cat like he sometimes does, but he's off cavorting with you, so Ms. Verner doesn't worry about keeping up appearances when mostly alone. She ignores the rumbling purr that sounds as soon as she picks up the flowers. There is no card nestled within them; they are going to go in the trash. She isn't willing to accept a seemingly anonymous handout, but she does allow herself to admire the blooms for just one moment—it lasts for the span of a breath, except her chest feels tight. She resolves to throw them out.
Her eyes stray to the empty driveway only for a second and then she heads back inside with [Redacted] keeping pace alongside each of her efficient steps. The clicks of her heels against the marble seem sharper after such a prolonged silence while waiting at the front door, which could be why she adds a bit more force into the learned stride. It goes beyond powerful to something that holds a measure of aggression. Reese's cat remains undeterred, paws moving in tandem with her, until he's darting ahead in a blur to reach the underused chef's kitchen.
“No,” Ms. Verner warns him.
He easily hops up onto the island anyway, walking along its pristine edge while she rounds it to reach the sleek trash can within the space. He comes to a stop by the edge she is near, waiting.
There's no hesitation to how her foot settles on the push-lever in time with her hand releasing the bouquet, sealing it away within a makeshift prison with more satisfaction than she would ever care to admit. At the office, she can't order Claudia to trash the frequent deliveries; it could create talk or a stir should the wrong intern or co-worker witness it. Who throws away exquisite flowers? The purity of the white blooms could rival freshly fallen snow, while the green stems are more verdant than Fernweh's forests. They can look perfectly staged there, but not here within her half-empty home—not with Reese—and especially not with a [Surname] and Reese here.
Perhaps, burning the 'gift' would have been the better call…
She retrieves her lighter, running her thumb over the intricate engravings on the metal that are such a step up from a zippo. [Redacted]'s purring tapered off as soon as the sweet scent of the flowers was sealed away, but the mrow he makes is enough to get her to reconsider this plan. It is a habit not only to wait, but to move on from that waiting by disposing of these arrangements, often lilies and roses that are all devoid of any color. “Go wait for him,” she requests. “Be gone.”
Some would say the pendant lighting has something to do with the glimmering intelligence that filters through those golden-yellow eyes, practically swirling, before the cat listens. He makes a show of hopping atop the closed trash bin, knocking it lightly against the wall, before he departs the room without a single meow. If he will actually go wait for Reese's return or go skulk around the mansion's many shadowy corners doesn't matter, Ms. Verner just wants to be alone tonight.
That's become a habit too…