I often wonder why people wish to live a long life in a society revolving around such repetitive acts and dialogues. Now this might concern a six year old's parents a bit, but at the end we're all just fleeting beings in the cycle of life–they'll live with it.

  This brings me to my latest predicament–the ballroom. While roaming around in search of something exciting happening somewhere, I might have 'accidentally' lost my governess over an hour ago and now I can't even leave the hall.

  There were 38 chandeliers in the main hall. Each holding 164 candlesticks.

  If only boredom could literally kill.

  As I began considering counting the sconces next, in a few groups further a figure caught my eye. In the midst of a hall crowded with nobility stood a young boy. I couldn't look at his face with his back to me, but his infamous onyx hair was a clear indication of his belonging to a high-profile noble family.

  But that wasn't what caught my eye.

  It was his pocket watch that had no hands on it, just silver numbers embedded on a deep onyx. I'd seen it somewhere... but where?

  As I stood with a glass of apple juice, trying to figure it out, the boy turned.

  My breath hitched.

  I shook my head.

  When did we get so close? I barely remember how our eyes met, when he started making his way towards me, or when I had completely surrendered my attention to him, but a second later, or maybe a few minutes I couldn't tell, the boy was so close that I had to tilt my head to meet his eyes.

  He was oddly compelling.

  Or maybe the gods had listened to me and swapped my boredom with insanity, because I felt as if his eyes were seeing right through me, as though he suddenly found something he longed but couldn't reach.

  Because that was exactly how I felt.

  Puzzled by this sudden pull of an unknown kind, I tried to step back. This situation was dizzying. Although, the moment I stepped back, I saw something in his expression shift.

  Why should I care?

  Why did I care?

  Unable to understand the complexity of the moment, an even more bewildering sensation shot through my palm, making me flinch.

  With an obvious pang of hurt in eyes, he stepped away as well.

  Why was he such an open book?

  I fisted my hand and closed my eyes, trying to understand what was happening with me. Why couldn't i just leave? Willing myself to do just that, I opened my eyes, but the sight rendered me even more anxious.

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  He was leaving.

  I was statued in my place, having no idea about what just happened, as the world started getting a little blurry.

  Was I crying?

  Too exhausted with trying to comprehend the situation anymore, I followed my gut called him out.

  "Hey!"

  He must've been more than a few steps far, making my call come out more like an aggressive shout.

  "Yes?" The anxiety in his voice calmed me down. So I wasn't the only one going out of their minds?Good enough.

  "Uh... for you."

  It took me a couple of seconds to realise that those words were spoken in my voice. What was going on? Afraid of having lost control on my actions, I looked down at my outstretched fist. Feeling a cool sting in it, I opened my hand palm-up.

  There lay an ice-blue gem.

  He looked at the stone in my palm and then back at me confusingly. We were on the same boat. But for some odd reason, I could figure out the significance of that jewel.

  It was a gift of remembrance.

  He kept looking at the gem, and then back at me, as if he didn't know whether he should really take it or not. Just as I was about to retreat my hand, he looked at me right in the eyes and took the gem. I'm sure I saw a flash of relief shoot through him.

  As soon as he touched the gem his eyes widened, and he suddenly gave me a small curtsy and left.

  He just disappeared into the crowd.

  All of a sudden I felt so worn-out that I could've passed out. I wasn't even sure how I managed to have my consciousness intact. This encounter had left me lightheaded.

  Could this get any more strange?

  Apparently, it could.

  While I was working on getting a hold of my bearings and trying to will my legs to recall how to walk a whisper floated through the air.

  I heard his voice.

  I hadn't heard him speak before, but I knew. Just like how I knew I had to give that gem to him. His words were no more than two, but I could have sworn he told me a thousand.

  "I'm sorry."