Cry, Even Better if you Beg

omething he perceived to be for that ruined perfect life he had.
But it also seemed like he’d only begun to truly live when the longing began as well. 

Every step towards his mansion, it was almost like he was taking a step back in time instead, the further and further back he got in his memory, the closer he got to his mansion…

And then in the back of his mind, he heard it.
And Matthias turned around to look behind him… 

It was that familiar sound of a bicycle, and Leyla had ridden it just past him.
The sunbeams framed her beauty perfectly, making her outshine everything around her.

He watched as little Leyla fell, her bike toppling downwards alongside her, making her eyes widen in surprise.
She’d just fallen, and her wheels kept turning despite it not moving an inch. 

A loud thumping sound, like a heartbeat, echoed in Matthias’ ears.
He could only stare at her fallen form on the ground.
And then she looked up, and it was the brightest set of eyes he had ever seen. 

She was beautiful as a child, too. 

“Leyla.” He called out her name softly, her small, plush lips parting in surprise at him calling for her.
And then her figure shifted…

The little girl was gone, and now the woman was in front of him, looking up with a beautiful smile.
He offered her a gentlemanly aid, and she took it with a second of hesitation before smiling graciously at him as he saved her.

If he’d done that in the beginning instead of walking all over her precious things, would she still run away from him?

But those thoughts didn’t matter now, and Matthias resumed walking with a quickened pace. 

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Further down the road he walked, deeper into the forest he went, swerving through the mud and the dead plants until he reached his perceived destination.

“Leyla…” he called out again, wanting to conjure up her presence with enough will.

Maybe she’ll end up in front of him this time.

His quickened pace evolved into a sprint, her name slipping from his lips occasionally, until he saw it…

The weeds have been overgrown after some time of neglect.
And the place looked gloomier than when she’d still been living in it.
The ghost of Leyla’s face peeking out her window flashed in front of him, before he’s reminded of how desolate the cabin lately had been.

If he’d helped her in the beginning, would she still be here? Would she hold his hand willingly, showing off his claim on her for everyone to see? 

They had walked through this forest together multiple times before.
Down the river they stood beside one another, even in the middle of the day.
And then she would laugh, play along with his jokes and teasing…

And he’d pamper her, spoil her with worldly gifts everyone would die to have.

And then she’d let him in on her life, sharing stories of her day with him, and he’d listen to her voice.
They were music to his ears, every sound she made, and he’d make her sing praises for him well into the night!

And he’d forever keep her with him, where he can see and have her to himself.
Like his canary, which he’d cut its wings and kept comfortably in an exquisite cage.

The wind picked up again, making the rustle of the leaves grow louder.
He looked up at the sky, eyes fluttering closed as he took in the warmth of the sun against his skin…

It was too bright for him, he couldn’t stand it. 

He kept walking, kept moving forward as the panging in his chest grew and grew, like a snowball of regret rolling downhill and getting bigger and bigger…

Ah, he just remembered his marriage was just around the corner.
Come summer, he’d be a married man.
But when he’d imagined his bride and lifted her veil, he could only see a shy emerald gaze, looking shyly at him. 

And then she’d blush at the sight of him, a dust of pink painting her cheeks.

And her name would be Leyla, and she would smile beautifully at him as she stared deeply into his eyes, and hold her chin high up as she’d declare herself as his. 

Matthias’ hurried pace began to gradually slow down, and that metaphorical snowball kept growing and growing instead, spiraling faster and faster!

Summer would come again, and he’d walk alongside the riverbank, with Leyla in his arms.
And then the next summer would come…

And then a blonde kid would appear resting beneath a tree, calling him her father, her eyes twinkling like Leyla’s at the sight of him…

And he’d gather her up in his arm, and let her fly, before catching her in his arms again.
And Leyla would be there, just a few paces away, her smile matching her daughter’s as she watched them have fun. 

He wanted her like that.
But Leyla chose to run away instead.

Something wet trailed down his cheeks.
And Matthias frowned.
Was it raining?

He looked up, and the sky was clear, free from any storm clouds.
The droplets kept going, and that’s when he realized they were from his eyes, and not the sky as he’d initially thought. 

Absent-mindedly, he brought a hand up to touch his cheeks, and stared at the wet patch on his fingers afterwards.

Wishful thinking had no value in his life.
So is crying.
They’re both ephemeral and meaningless in the progress of time.

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Sunlight filtered through the gaps between the leaves, giving a rain of sunbeams within the thickened forests as Matthias trudged forward, his gait significantly calmer than he did when he’d walked in the forest.

His eyes fluttered closed once more, ignoring the gradual loss of wetness in his eyes, his heart feeling lighter and empty at the same time…

And then the downhill spiral of his thoughts stopped, just as Matthias exhausted his own memories of Leyla. 

Even the wind had left him as soon as his steps stopped in front of the poorly kept cabin in his memories. 

“Do you regret any of it? Even a little of it?”

Leyla’s voice echoed in the back of his mind.

And yet in his mind and his heart, his answer remained the same, even now. 

“No.” Matthias grinned manically to himself, repeating his answer into nothingness as he answered her question in his mind once again. 

“I’ve never regretted it, Leyla.”

He’d never regret anything.
Not when it came to Leyla.
And that was his absolute truth. 

Turning back time was impossible, and thus dwelling on the what-could-have-been was a pointless endeavor.
As long as he and Leyla remained as they always were, that would be all that mattered to him, and nothing more than that. 

As long as they remained the same people they were in the beginning, his longing and desire for her would forever remain.
Even if it meant Leyla would run away from him in the end, just as she did now, he wouldn’t change anything he’d done to have her.

And so now, he really did not regret anything he did for her.

His hands shook with his reasoning, a tightening in his chest making him uncomfortable.
Matthias popped open another button, and harshly yanked the tie off his neck before straightening out his suit. 

His wetted cheeks and lashes had been dried by the wind shortly before, leaving no traces of his deep thoughts for anyone else but him to see.
Matthias’ pale pallor was back to his fair white complexion, with a subtle fatigue reflected in his dark blue irises.

The sun was setting in the horizon.
It was time to return. 

And without further adieu, Matthias turned on his heels, and headed towards the general direction of the mansion, fully knowing Hessen would be eagerly waiting for his arrival. 

As predicted, his loyal butler had immediately raced down the steps of the mansion upon sight of his master.
He’d rushed to greet the duke, fretting over his well-being, but Matthias had business to attend to shortly now.

“My Lord-!”

“Has Count Klein arrived already?” he asked, swiftly cutting off Hessen in his further line of questioning.
The butler’s lips snapped shut, before he bowed respectfully in acquiescence. 

“Yes, my Lord.
He’s currently waiting in the office, on the third floor.”

One of the many things Matthias was comfortable with the butler was how quickly he picked up on his better’s moods.
It’s been half an hour past since they were supposed to begin, and would normally be considered an utter disrespect to the party doing the waiting but…

Matthias had deemed it to be a minor slight in his reputation.
After all, he was meeting with a competitor who once made him wait an hour into their previous meeting. 

Hessen led him to the office, while simultaneously remaking his master’s appearance to something respectfully presentable once more.
Matthias continued his pace, and waited for Hessen to open the door to the office, before striding in confidently, with his head held high and unbothered.

He was still the Duke of Arvis, Duke Matthias von Herhardt.
He was, always will be, the perfect image of what a respectable Lord is.
It had to be.