Click.

The light brought a sudden sense of security to Arabella. She took a deep breath and cautiously peeked her head out from the closet.

A pair of straight, long legs came into view. His camel-brown suit trousers were perfectly tailored, with a sharp, crisp crease and a "half break" length where the hem just brushed the tops of his shoes. Those leather shoes were impeccably clean—not even the edges of the thin soles carried a speck of dust.

Arabella dazed for a moment. The person she had spent the entire day waiting for—and resenting—had finally appeared.

She stubbornly bit her lip, keeping her head tilted at an angle, refusing to look up any further.

Frederick looked down at herhead. Her fluffy, smooth long hair looked like warm, soft feathers. Like a "mischievous little bird" who was angry and stubborn enough to curse him behind his back.

"Poor thing, I'm sorry I'm late," Frederick said in a warm, gentle voice. "The staff told me you haven't eaten properly all day. Was the chocolate mousse here not to your liking?".

He spoke as if he were smoothing over a minor misunderstanding rather than his own cruelty. 

Arabella bit her lip even harder, her hands clenching instinctively. After a long silence, she muttered sullenly, "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to take you home, of course".

Lie! 

Arabella balled her hands into fists and suddenly snapped her head up. When she met that handsome, gentle face, her mind went blank for a second, followed immediately by a fierce, tidal wave of grievance. "Liar! You already abandoned me! Why are you coming back for me now?! And the chocolate mousse was disgusting! It was awful!".

The sorrow nearly drowned her as tears burst from her eyes. "You bad guy! You left me here for a whole day! I've been sad all day! You flew away in that plane... I was down there calling you, calling and calling, and you ignored me! You threw me away! You abandoned me—!".

She lost all control over her emotions. Her heart was so heavy that her entire body began to twitch and shudder. She cried until she shook, feeling as though she might actually be sick. 

"I hate you—I hate you—!".

Her chest heaved with exaggerated, gasping breaths.

Through the chaos, she thought she heard him sigh. Then, a pair of large, gentle palms cupped her cheeks, lifting her face slightly. "Alright, I know. You hate me. It's my fault. I apologize".

Arabella stared at him fixedly, her tears flowing without pause as she trembled. "Hate... you...".

"I did something wrong; it's only right that you hate me. But since it's my fault, why punish yourself? Look, your eyes are all red".

"Birdie. I'm right here. We can talk slowly, alright?".

He was so calm, so composed. His thumb moved in a slow, steady rhythm to brush the moisture from the corners of her eyes. "Now, good girl, listen to me. Inhale—".

Though her body was still racking with sobs, Arabella subconsciously followed his lead. She took a trembling, shaky breath.

Frederick offered a small, gratified smile. "Now, exhale slowly... good girl. Again, breathe".

"Excellent, Birdie. Now try one more on your own...".

Arabella took several deep breaths. The violent storm of her emotions finally began to settle, though her entire face remained flushed and damp.

She felt a wave of shame for her earlier, uncontrollable sobbing. In a hoarse, aggrieved voice, she whispered, "I didn't mean to cry. I just couldn't help it. Because you're so hateful."

Frederick didn't dream of blaming her. His palm came up to rest gently against the back of her head. "I know. You were wronged. You were hurting. You hate me".

Arabella went quiet, her lip still slightly pouted, her wet eyes shimmering like crystals.

"Come out of the closet. You aren't a real bird, and this isn't your nest." Frederick extended a hand toward her with gentlemanly grace. "Here, take my hand".

Arabella was still angry—angry that she had been coaxed so easily. It felt like she had lost face. In a fit of pique, she slapped his palm. When she tried to hit it a second time, he flipped his hand over and caught her fingers.

"Bad guy," Arabella grumbled, trying to pull her hand back, but the man held her fast. She had no strength to struggle against him.

Frederick kept his grip on her hand and knelt on one knee, bringing himself to eye level with Arabella inside the closet. "What did you just say? I didn't hear you clearly."

"I said, why did you abandon me!" Arabella demanded, wanting a clear answer.

"I didn't abandon you," he said. "I didn't throw you away, either".

The pad of his finger pressed against the pulse in her wrist, rubbing it gently as if silently dissolving her restless mood. "From now on, I won't leave you alone in a strange place for more than an hour".

"Really?"

"Really. I promise. Now come out, good girl".

Good girl... Arabella felt both shy and awkward.

While she was dazed, his powerful arms wrapped around her. Just like the night before, he easily lifted her out of the narrow, wood-scented closet.

Frederick pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and gave it to her to wipe her face. Then, he brought her shoes over, knelt down, and put them on for her, tying the laces into beautiful butterfly knots.

"Do you still want to cry?".

"You're the one who wants to cry," she glared at him, letting out a muffled huff, her nose still a bit congested.

The man smiled. "Then let's go home. I'll make chocolate mousse for you myself, alright? Forgive me this once".

Going back to that pink palace and getting to eat chocolate mousse made personally by Frederick....

"Do you even know how to make it?" Arabella whispered.

"I do. Though I don't know if it will suit your taste. You'll have to tell me if it's good when the time comes, alright? Shall we head home now?" He took her hand again with subtle confidence.

Arabella didn't say yes, but she didn't say no either. She swung her legs back and forth, acting coy for a few more seconds before finally letting out a faint, defeated sound of agreement.