My Long Lost Mate

knock knock

I knocked on the door to Luke's office, waiting for permission to head in. I patiently waited for him to respond with his meal in hand, but nothing came, even after a minute of waiting. 

Weird, is he not in? 

Slowly, I pushed the door open, careful for the plate in my hand to not slip away. As I entered the room, I was met by the soothing sound of a crackling hearth and a soft snore. I saw Luke, fast asleep by the sofa with paperwork in both of his hands. 

I tippy-toed my way inside, not wanting to wake him up. As he was asleep, I was planning to leave his meals on his desk and return to my room, but unfortunately, there was no space where I could put them on. Paperwork was found everywhere on his desk—his entire office—it was a mess.

After weeks of him being out of work, there must have been a lot—a whole lot of work—that needed to be done. That must be why he came here straight after we got back home, even sacrificing his sleep in the process. It seemed that he had dropped me off in his room first before coming here to drown himself in this mountain of paperwork.

I felt bad, as it all happened because he had to save me from the rogues. Now he had to work longer hours in order to complete all of the paperwork that had been delayed. Is there perhaps nothing that I can do to help him? It didn't feel right that he had to do all of this while I sat around doing nothing.

I looked around and felt my question being answered by the mess around me. Should I help him clean up this mess? People usually like it better if their office is clean, right? I placed his meal onto his desk, scooting the paperwork aside to make room for it, before deciding to ȧssist him in cleaning up his office.

I didn't touch any of the documents since I didn't know whether or not they were intentionally left like this—like a messy order only known to Luke—so I merely tidied up the stationery and the bunch of crumpled papers on the ground. I arranged the books I discovered on the ground by his desk, just in case he needed them again.

I took the few empty cups and placed them together, intending to take them with me when I leave later. I noticed that the room was getting colder as the fireplace was running low on logs, so I made a mental note to ask for help from a servant to bring in some more logs later.

As the weather grew colder, I covered Luke with his own coat, not wanting him to catch a cold—though I wasn't sure if he was capable of catching one. Regardless of it, it would always be better to sleep while staying warm. 

I tucked him in and took the papers from his hands, placing them on the coffee table beside him. I squatted down, feeling a smile on my lips when I ċȧrėss his hair. 

He must have been really exhausted, knowing that he must have dozed off while reading these papers. This man—he was always kind beyond words. Never once did he ever get mad at me for making a mistake, nor did he complain about me for always getting into trouble. He was just... there. He was always there for me, always by my side without asking for something in return for all that he had done for me. 

After the world turned its back on me, he was the first—the first person who showed me love, the first person who offered me his hands, the first person who gave me the comfort I had long lost. I never imagined that I would have someone like him in my life—someone with so much kindness, so much warmth. It was unbelievable, even to this day. 

What did I do to deserve him, I wonder? Was it an exchange for all the pain I had endured? If that's the case, then perhaps, I would choose to experience all those years of suffering again—just to have him in my life forever. 

I am, without a doubt, grateful to have him in my life. 

I stood up, decided to leave him to sleep for a while. Should I go and visit the library? It had been so long since I've last read a book. I'm itching for some good reads.

Just as I was about to leave, Luke woke up and grabbed my hand, not wanting me to leave.

"Where are you going?" he asked, his voice hoarse from sleep. 

"Sorry, did I wake you up?" I turned back, again squatting down to see him at eye level. "I was just planning to go to the library because you were asleep," I said as he sat up, rubbing his eyes with his other hand. "You should sleep more," I suggested, but he quickly dismissed my suggestion.

"No, I've had enough sleep," clearly, that was a lie, "Why are you here? You miss me?" he asked, and I could see the grin slowly forming on his face.

Why am I here? His question took me by surprise, as I actually didn't know why I was here. I just thought that I should look for him as I didn't see him anywhere in the room, and here I am. It seemed that I've become so accustomed to having him around me that I unconsciously found myself looking for him whenever he wasn't around.

Oh my gosh, what has he done to me?

If I told him that I unconsciously looked for him, I bet he would have that smug look on his face all day, and I wouldn't want to see it. Let's say something else. 

"I'm only here to bring you your meal," I said, pointing at the plate on his desk. "I stopped by Bob's kitchen this morning, and then he asked me to help him bring it to you," good, that was a nice save.

"Really? He must've been surprised when he saw you," he laughed, knowing his chef all too well. "Did he say something?" 

"He said I lost too much weight, so he cooked up a feast for me before I came here," I rubbed my belly, still feeling full after eating so much. "I also met Lisa," I said, telling him all the things that happened this morning, "Did I really lose that much weight? They were surprised when they saw me."

"Of course, you did," he nodded, ruffling my hair. "All the bad things that happened must've taken a toll on your body, which is why now we need to work on your weight to keep you healthier."

He stood up, pulled me to sit on the sofa, and proceeded to his desk. He took the meal I brought him before walking back to sit beside me, saying, "But for now, why don't we work on keeping me healthy by you feeding me my meal? I'm afraid I've lost too much strength to lift my own spoon as I'm too fatigued from all the work I did."

"But you have no difficulties in lifting your plate."

"That's the last bit of my strength," he shamelessly replied, pretending to lower the plate with his limp hands. "Now I've used it all up," he let out a sigh, trying to appear as weak as he could. 

I stared at him with squinted eyes, doubting the veracity of his words. I had known for a long time that this man had a knack for seizing every opportunity he got to have me do these kinds of things for him.

"Please?" he pleaded, and it was as if I was looking at a puppy asking to be fed. When I took the plate for him, I could practically see his tail wagging out of excitement. 

"Just this once," I said, and he eagerly nodded his head with a smile. I wonder why he likes to be fed like this? It wasn't the first time that he asked me to do this for him.

I slowly raised his spoon, delivering the food to his mouth, which he accepted with glee. Though I felt a bit awkward and confused as to why he likes to be fed like this, I will do it—just for the sake of him. This was nothing compared to all the things he had done for me. 

But seeing him like this made me wonder what kind of strange requests he would make of me in the future.