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Waiting.
That’s all the self proclaimed Chevalier de Seingalt could do in his state, sharp blues seemingly untouched by the ravages of time where the rest of him had not been as lucky. Long limbs which had once been sturdy and quick were now weak and slow moving, full handsome face now sunken and wrinkled, but those eyes.. those eyes never changed in all of his long life.
His endless and loyal waiting was brought on by whispers that his dearest Henriette was still very much alive, happy news spurring him on to send away a letter for her proclaiming his love, and for days after he could be found waiting obediently at his window for the response he was certain that would come. In all of his waiting Giacomo had fallen ill, a spat with the young burgermeister’s daughter only worsening his condition, presumably pushing away the only one in that lonely castle who gave a damn about him any more.
She was probably the only person who gave a damn about him, for that matter.
Casanova did not see her after the fight until the night he was on the verge of burning the written recollections of his life, the foolishness of his youth, reminders of how he had been abandoned by a son that he had failed. She had stopped him then, urging him to remember that romantic fool he had once been fondly, to allow others to know of the man he had been beyond the rumors they had been told. Even after he had shouted at her, tried to keep her at arms length to prevent her from breaching that hard shell his heart had acquired to spare himself more undue heartache, she had come back to him with concern in those eyes and broke it regardless. He allowed her to lead him to his bed with gentle coaxing hands, reminders of his feeble old body’s condition only agitating him, the soul locked within it just as young and stupid as it had ever been.
As soon as he had been tucked away into his bed and begun to converse with the young lady of her plans for the future, of her choice to find a dream just out of reach and run toward it just as he had, those elderly bones became so achingly weary. She seemed to notice the change in him, the worried tilt of dark brows giving her away, glossy eyes looking upon him like Henriette had the last day he had laid eyes upon her. She was saying goodbye to him just as his love had, and that’s when Casanova realized he would die in this place, in a dank castle in Bohemia far from his beloved Republic of Venice. A republic that no longer existed, playing romeo to his Juliet, wiped out thanks to Napoleon Bonaparte’s reign.
The female at his side remained speaking, assuring him that Henriette was on her way to see him as they spoke, wrinkled fingers extending to pass over the window which lay beside his bed. A small melancholy smile played upon his lips as he thought of recollections he hadn’t had the chance to tell her of, too exhausted now to regale her with them. Too late for an adventure now, isn’t it; Doctor? Oh what he would give to see that blue box again, to look upon the faces of his friends one last time and be able to offer each of them a proper goodbye.
“Aren’t you bored of this, yet?…”
Giacomo heard a familiar voice near to his resting place, blurring vision sweeping to find it’s source, Henriette’s cheeky youthful face staring back at him from the space beside his bed where she knelt. “She’s here.” He vaguely recalled hearing the burgermeister’s daughter whisper brokenly, and just as soon as those words reached his ears, Henriette’s small translucent hands dipped into his chest, dragging forth the foolish young man from it’s feeble shell.
Pale hues opened again to the courtyard in which he had stolen the young woman before him away to, where he had proclaimed his love for her, untouched buildings surrounding them as if the Republic of Venice were still very much alive. ”How..” He spoke with in quiet disbelief, a small knowing smile falling upon the lips he had once thought lost forever.
“I came back for you, Giac. It was my turn to chase after an unattainable dream.”
(Reblogging from my RP account just to post something, I’ve been neglecting this ask blog too much. I’LL GET BACK TO ANSWERING YOU GUYS SOON, I PROMISE.)
-Takes this fair maiden by the hand, drawing her to his MANLY CHEST beneath the mistletoe. Bestows upon her a first kiss she will never forget, nor will any other man be able to compete with.-
(Ahaha, thank you dgjhdfjg. You have an amazing holiday season too, bby. <3)
Merry Christmas to my wonderful followers.
This is common festive garb, isn’t it? I feel a little silly..
cylo:
askcasanova started following you
What strange clothing…I suppose this isn’t the first time I’ve seen trousers on a woman, though. Pleasure to meet you.
Congratulations on your graduation, miss Kam~.
LatelatelateSCREECH
SCREEEEEECH
All refined ladies seem to have an art for the screech.
(via chicksdigthephoenix)