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There was something strange about being back at the Masquerade, with people he’d already met and people who’d he’d seen die.
And of course, him.
“You’ll come back if you have that, right? Promise?”
Promises were always a hassle. But, well… Technically Karl had fulfilled it. He was back at the masquerade, back at the mansion that held the Egg, and back for one more night by his side. Or at least he had been. Currently he was sitting in the garden, spacing out while his gaze was locked onto one of the rose bushes.
It was just a dream, Karl. It meant nothing. There’s no way he actually likes gardening, that was just your mind.
Admittedly, the fact that Karl’s subconscious had apparently been occupied enough by the man to dream about him was odd, but dwelling on that wouldn’t heed any results.
“Sir Karl? Jacobs?”
Karl blinked, snapping out of his gaze and looking behind him. Sir Billiam was looking around the garden, his body language almost frazzled, which was weird. Karl heard the sound of hooves against the dirt, a bit startled when Billiam suddenly rounded the corner, but he seemed to relax when he saw him.
“Ah Sir Karl! What are you doing out here?”
Karl shrugged. “I was just wondering what the garden looked like.” He said lamely. It was a poor excuse, but it was an excuse nonetheless.
“Ah, of course. I neglected it when giving you the tour of my mansion, didn’t I?” Sir Billiam took a seat beside him, gesturing towards one of the flower bushes. “Did I ever tell you about my gardenin’ hobby?”
… No. Fucking. Way.
“No, I don’t think you did.” Karl said, feeling like he’d been hit with Apollo’s dodgeball.
“Well, I suppose you wouldn’t mind if I indulged myself a bit by talkin’ about it?”When Karl gave a gesture for him to continue, he did. “Well, those flowers are clearly roses, as I’m sure you could tell, you are quite smart, after all, but I’ve managed to acquire less known ones, like these–”
Billiam stood up and began walking around the sizeable garden, happily explaining the countless flower types he’d managed to get. He led Karl by the hand throughout the tour, however he hummed in dissatisfaction when he noticed the leaves that had managed to make their way into his hair. Karl could empathize.
“Ah, I do hate when this happens.” He groused. “It’s one of the many perils of being outside.” He took out the band in his hair and held it out for Karl to take, which he did with some hesitation and bewilderment.
“Could you please fix my hair, Sir Karl?” Billiam asked.
Karl blinked, slowly processing his words. “I… Okay? I mean– yeah, sure. Can you sit down, please, you’re rather tall?”
The wealthy man sat down, and Karl gently took out the leaves that had weaved themselves into his hair. It would be easier if Karl had a brush but he didn’t, so he had to be very careful. He noted that Billliam’s hair was very soft and silky, so he tried not to pull it in fear of hurting the man since he didn’t know how delicate of a head he had. When all the leaves had been cleared out, Karl subconsciously began to weave the hair into a braid, an impulse he’d gotten from… somewhere.
“Say, Sir Karl.” Billiam spoke for the first time in minutes. “Why did you leave the party? I missed your presence.”
“Oh, sorry.” Karl said on reflex. “I was just overwhelmed.” It was the truth. Seeing all those people who’d died horribly, and Sir Billiam who Karl had had an… emotional parting with, it was hard to be in the same room and not feel some sort of discomfort or emptiness.
“Well, I do apologize for that. Is there anythin' I can do to convince you to come back? It is so boring with all the riff-raff in there.”
Karl didn’t bother to hide his chuckles. “They’re your guests, sir.”
“Please, call me by my name.” Billiam sighed. “You’re right, they are my guests, but you’re the only one who has an enjoyable presence. All the others are boring and talk about the same things they always do. There’s no variant. You’re the only one who ever has anything interestin' to say, darlin’.”
Karl’s hands stilled for a moment at the pet name, but he quickly recovered and continued braiding the man's soft, pink hair. “I’m sure you’ll get bored with me eventually once you know me a little more.”
Billiam scoffed. “I fail to see how that’s possible.”
“Alright, I’m done.” Karl announced, finishing up his braid with the black band and letting Billiam judge his handiwork.
“A braid, hm?” He said in amusement.
Karl shrugged, heat rising to his face. “I just felt like it. I can undo it if you don’t like it.”
“No, I adore it.” Billiam assured. “Please, come back inside. I assure you I’ll make it worth your time. Perhaps we could dance?”
I guess we didn’t get to the last time, huh? Karl thought. He shrugged. “I guess.”
“Oh, don’t sound so unsure.” Billiam took him by the hand to lead him back inside. “The others are surely wondering where we are by now, anyways. I’d like to be with you on the dance floor, if you don’t mind.”
“That sounds cool.” Karl thought about how the night would inevitably play out, and how it would be best to make the man in front of him as happy as possible before Karl inevitably broke his heart again. How no matter what he hoped and dreamt of, Karl could not stay by his side. Whether he wanted to or not, he couldn’t. They were both bound to the whims of fate and time. “I’ll do my best for you.”