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It started in their usual place, but an unusual time. The gardens in the middle of the night. It was raining harshly, and the newly added section that the two were tucked away in provided little cover. In the beginning of the evening, they had simply been creating and dreaming of the things that could have been. By the time night had fallen, chess had been brought out and both of them were very tired but trying not to show it. In this case, the “both” refers to two of the most recent additions to the manor, the painter and the sculptor. Edgar and Galatea.
Galatea slammed her fist on the armrest of her chair, causing it to shake slightly. “Ugh!” Edgar grinned triumphantly, picking up a black piece from the side and tossing it lightly at Galatea. “Another pawn taken, leaving your king in an even more vulnerable position. Would you like to take your defeat as it will be now? Or would you prefer to keep going, even though most of your pieces are gone?”
Galatea pushed herself back up from her slumped position slowly. “Hmph…” Edgar smiled more softly now, a bit relieved Galatea had simply brushed it off. His jokes and taunts were meant to be taken lightly, but it was often hard to tell the intent behind them. Galatea looked off to the side. Knowing Edgar, he would be saying these things just to get her to give up on trying to beat him, which means he most likely did not have a concrete plan on how to win. Or, he could actually be serious and did truly believe that she could not win.
She didn’t have enough time to mentally debate on the answer, as Edgar flicked another of the chess pieces away. This one was white, however. One of Edgar’s own pieces, he had picked it up from the board to throw at Galatea, taking his piece out of play simply because he may truly think she couldn’t win. Normally, she wouldn’t accept his “pity” under any circumstances. However, he occasionally underestimated her, and this was one such time. She kept the unconcerned facade, but underneath she was calculating. She picked up her knight, sliding it into play. Edgar grinned, he really did like a good challenge. “Serving it out until the end I see... Well, good luck on losing!” Galatea lifted her head up and chuckled a bit to herself. “I don’t need your luck.” Edgar started setting up his own moves in his head, trying to think ahead of whatever she had planned for him.
Chess in and of itself is not a physically strenuous sport, but for what it lacks physically, it makes up even more in the mental department. One must be a calculating multitasker to even attempt a game, which is why Galatea and Edgar were mostly the only two using the chessboard- barely anyone else could come close to their level of skill. This is why they were always together, yet so against each other. Having a similar mind on your level and talent in art and intelligence both brings you down from the pedestal of perfection you place yourself on and gives you a like mind to bounce ideas and works off of. Their former hatred for each other, mutual understanding, and mutual respect (as well as them both arriving around the same time at the manor) led to their friendship continuing even though one was hunter, and one was survivor. Sure, they both had their quirks that they despised about the other, but so does everyone else. They were so close yet so distant, many things about them intertwining and clashing, making them both too similar and opposite for their own liking. But they truly did appreciate the other, both as art critics and whatever their non-professional relationship can be defined as.
When both Edgar and Galatea had gone several more rounds, barely any progress had been made on the chessboard. Galatea was appearing nervous, and Edgar calm and composed. However, with their individually intricate playstyles, it could be either’s game. As they continued to place their pieces, Edgar kept losing them. Galatea smiled happily, and put a pawn out to claim yet another of his own pawns. Edgar, quickly seeing the opportunity, took her own pawn with his queen. Smiling, he announced triumphantly: “You hardly have more than five pieces left, your king is defenseless, I’ve-“ Galatea interrupted him.
“Checkmate.” Edgar looked down in shock. She was right, she had managed to beat him. Galatea grinned. “And it was thanks to the piece you threw at me... next time you shouldn’t underestimate me and you might have a chance at winning, hm?” He frowned in annoyance. “So what, it’s only one time.” “Edgar, this isn’t one time and you know it.” “Fine then!” Edgar looked off to the side, mentally preparing for what he was about to do.
Quickly, he closed his eyes and gave Galatea a small kiss on the cheek. Galatea stared at him, cheeks flushing a pale pink. “W-what was that even for?” Edgar frowned. “The bet from last night?” Galatea’s eyes opened even wider with shock, and she had an even deeper blush on her cheeks. “O-oh… I had forgotten about that…“ “Or were you just too tired?” Edgar pointed out.
At the end of last night’s chess matches that had continued until the early morning, they had made a bet that whoever lost their next chess match would have to kiss the victor of the match. Such a bet could only be the result of lack of rest, since both would normally never do something like that. Galatea had promptly fallen asleep right after they had reached an agreement, and had thus forgotten.
Clearing her throat, she thought briefly, “I thought I would have enough self-respect to not do this, but apparently not,” before quickly continuing vocally, “You know… I don’t know if it really counts, because of how short that was… plus you only kissed me on the cheek too, so that’s not a full kiss, right?”
Galatea loved him dearly, but she had never had to say it before. No one had ever loved her this way to show her any such affection and she had not harbored feelings for any person before, so what even was the purpose for her to know the way to say “I love you?” Edgar smiled. The beautiful sculptress was really asking him to kiss her once again on the lips? Galatea was one of the only people in the manor that genuinely understood him, and he had started to appreciate her as more than just a chess partner over the past few months.
“So, the bet was out of personal interest rather than a silly joke?” Edgar said, knowing fully well what the answer was. Galatea looked at him from across the table and sighed, quirking her eyebrows. “Kiss me already, you insufferable painter.” And kiss her he did, until the morning sunlight burst over the belladonna blooms.
Fin.