"The most prominent moments in life are the feelings of grief when love is lost, and the joy of when it is gained."

---It had only been one day, but with him the minutes spiraled on like hours and his thoughts raced with his heart. If this was love, it made sense for love to be a torturous sin. ---

--"She used to say to me- the only reason why the flower are in bloom is because at one point, the sky has wept. I just never was able to see it."-

"And again, another push back for the latest McClellan novel, a disappointment to fans around at not only the lack of new content, but also reason as to why."

"Yes Jeff," a females voice answered over the speakers, irritatingly loud in the cramped space of the too small Volkswagen beetle," the constant excuse of writers block lives only so long. Writers write, and this seems to be one who has forgotten that- or worse yet - completely forgotten how."

Vaughan could not stand to listen any longer and quickly snapped the station off, studiously avoiding the steel grey gaze under Morrowe's bushy brows, instead focusing on the slow progression of landscape melding from the horrid block and smoke of the city back to his beloved countryside full of green trees and rolling hills. Blessedly they were not long from his sanctuary.

Home.

"You should have gone to that meeting Vaughan McClellan, and not for the first time am I telling you I have been far too lenient with your work. Or lack thereof," the older man huffed, sturdy fingers thrumming the steering wheel, and Vaughan was certain the man wished for his pipe and some tobacco at that moment.

Vaughan stayed silent, unsure of what he should say in response.

Morrowe always made him feel once again the child that used to look up to the other in awe and respect, a young dream of writing great novels nurtured not only by the man in question, but his mother who had previously employed him when she herself perused a dabbling in writing nonfiction.

"You cannot continue to stay silent and accepting of this Vaughan. I can only protect you for so long!" Morrowe didn't seem to expect nor want an answer as Vaughan stewed cheeks heated knowing he was in the wrong and being admonished like the child he very much was not," there 'will' be repercussions! You were expected to have the sequel to 'Ascension' out 6 months ago, and a new novel announced TO-DAY. Yet all you can manage to do is embarrass yourself! With Myles Arya present no less! What would your mother say of all this?!? Where is the young man I once knew dreaming of writing every day and venturing out around the world to tell others the tales in his head!"

"I'm not a child anymore Morrowe!" Vaughan seemed to have found his voice then, a certain squeeze in his heart that twisted his stomach at the mention of his lifelong ambitions, and his adoring mother, and his stomach rolled at the very reminder of Myles Arya, son of Ishan Arya head owner of Biblio, present to see the scathing slaughter of his latest manuscript," I cannot dream as one anymore, and even more so- all I seem to manage to write is crap! Or at least according to you! "

"Because it is very much so 'crap' that you gave me today," fumed the gray-haired man, his weathered face twisted into a furious gaze on the road ahead," Had I known that you would produce such weak works within the time given and presented it to me with the head of the editorial department present- well! I would have spared your career the humiliation. Much less mine as well!"

Vaughan blew out his cheeks thumping his head to the rest behind him a bit harder than he intended. Ignoring the unwanted sting he blinked his eyes rapidly rubbing at his curls," I don't know Marrowe. I am sorry, but I just don't know. Maybe I can't do this anymore, maybe it just isn't me."

The elder didn't say anything in response, silently shifting his gaze from the highway to his charge in the seat next to him.

He had watched the man grow from an inquisitive and bright lad full of dreams and stories to a brilliant and well-educated young man who could morph them into tales with such moving words he had not so long ago dreamt that he was playing witness to the blossoming career of one of the most prestigious writers of his time.

And suddenly that shining light had dimmed, and the other had been unusually silent with his tales, both in spoken and written word. There was only one thing it could possibly leave Marrowe feeling for someone who had grown to be much a dear friend.

"I am worried Vaughan," Morrows' voice dipped and any heat that had behind his words earlier was no longer present.

They were turning down the narrow private road that lead to Vaughan's family home, a beautiful entanglement of flowering trees and brush lining the road seeming to press in on the car leaving it little room to venture from its path and no question as to sharing the trail with any others before opening quite suddenly to the fields of his estate that held gently rolling hills and various gardens which had been passed through many hands until laying now in Vaughans own.

In the distance, the McClellan estate, and it, along with its expanse of gardens, was breathtaking and Vaughans favorite place to be.

"Well there really is no reason to be," he kept his gaze studiously to the familiar sight," I am fine."

'I am fine.'

It was becoming a well echoed phrase over the past year. Thoughts threatened to surface that he rather not address, and his stomach turned knots as he tugged at his jacket sleeve anxiously.

'No, I am fine. It is a beautiful summer day. I am back at the home I love. Just look at that view."

Once they broke free of the entrance, there was spanning open fields harboring various trees planted with much planning and care throughout.

Flowering quince began from the mouth of the entrance, parting to spread open as if arms presenting the brilliance of the estate. They were past their bloom time, but Vaughan didn't mind since the fruits were well worth the loss. From them lavender grew in a uniform lines parallel on each side of the road, ensuring there was always a fragrance that followed to where the cypress hedge began on either side of the gate, encircling the main gardens and house. 

"I just wish you to know," Morrowes hesitant words brought a throb behind Vaughans eyes he didn't wish to address," If you ever need anything. If anything is on your mind-you wish to talk or-"

"As I said Morrowe," his voice clipped, this was 'not' something he wish to speak of. They had an agreement, an arrangement made months ago that he felt strained at the conversation," I am 'fine'. Please."

Morrrowe looked to him, more family than manager, nodding briskly, sliding his eyes back to the windshield as he steered the wheel of the car in an arch.

Vaughan squeezed his eyes shut, heat rising to his cheeks as he fought the memory of just before at the Bilbio headquarters. It wouldn't have been as painful, he were sure, even if the head of the editorial department had still scathingly broke down his manuscript. 

It was the fact that Myles Arya had bore witness, what the man was doing there Vaughan could hardly guess, but he always would see the son of Ishan around the building whenever he visited.

Vaughan shook his head as if to rid himself of the figure almost always in the periphery of his view whenever he was at the building. Or a book signing. Or.

He opened his eyes, determined to focus on the preferred view of his property.

No good would come of thinking about Myles Arya.

In the inner court, Azalea encased in a hedge led way to various gardens spanning both wings of the house, roses skirted up the face tended and shaped lovingly by the groundskeepers while jasmine overshadowed the first-floor windows giving a framed peek into the dining area and the first floor study while ivy was given some graces along the arches of its columns.

Along the entrance wisteria was in full bloom, growing up lattices that lead the way up to the front doors where he could see his arrival was in waiting by not only his head butler, but his estate manager as well. 

Vaughan's love of flowers had blossomed from that of his fathers, which was almost certainly what had originally enthralled his mother with the shy young man of their years. A love story Vaughan had grown hearing his whole life, the first love story he ever heard, and his most favorite of all.

One that had ended far sooner than Vaughan or anyone else in his extended family would have liked.

'to be able to love like that' he had once heard' is a rare thing. A true gift.'

He had been a child when hearing this, and told he wouldn't understand until he was older.

At 33 he felt that, older, he still did not understand in full, and most likely never would.

The tires crunched over the loose gravel driveway leading to the main entrance and Vaughan spied his head gardener and his apprentice son working away along the heather of the knott garden skirting the far side of the left wing. He was early arriving home he knew, but despite this his ever-faithful friend and estate manager was still making his way down the stairs in greeting, the aged head butler in tow.

It was, during the day an occasionally busy place with nearly 30 people under his employment to upkeep the estate responsibilities. But it had not been as many as his parents had kept, he recalled at one point in his later childhood years spying a roster of employees nearly double what he had now, but Vaughan was not one for the constant tending to that his parents enjoyed.

Aside from his both live in estate manager Reko who doubled as a very dear friend and his head butler Gregory he employed a couple of maids and assistant staff that visited the estate in rotations for care of the cleaning and general upkeep, a cook who would tend to his nephews meals and several days a week would come to create scheduled dinners for them unless special occasions gave rise to other needs, and other wise it was all gardeners and various employees for the tending to the expansive gardens that had been mostly established by his father and several generations before and grew and maintained under his care.

It was necessary to maintain the estate and despite the traffic during the day hours Vaughan found it a sufficient amount for his desired solitude aside from when Xavier joined his house and, as many children do, sought out company and entertainment from his frequently indisposed of uncle.

"Master McClellan," warbled Gregory grinning as he normally did, hands clasped behind a slightly hunched back, a spring in his step that didn't reflect his age, nearly bald head lined with whisps of grey hair," I hear that todays interview didn't go to plan. Shall I call Graham to cancel the dinner tonight?"

Vaughan was already shaking his head before Gregory could finish and he could see Reko frowning behind the elderly man.

"No, the meeting will still be held," he blew out some air puffing his cheeks and running a hand through his unruly curls," And I know Graham has been excited for this event for quite some time."

Vaughan had also made sure the dining hall and study areas were ready for entertainment and had even taken Xavier to the seamstress to fit a new suit since the boy could not bother to slow his upward growth.

At 6 it was to be expected, but a part of him mourned the loss of the round cheeks and toddler waddle in favor of unkept often messy attire with frequent trails throughout the halls after adventures in the woods or playing in the gardens with his friend Sammy, the son of the head groundskeeper.

Sammy and his father Ignis lived on a small cottage on the property along with one of his brothers and mother, the other brother having grown and moved on not wanting to work on the estate.

Gregory nodded, seeming unsurprised by this revelation, and walked with the other three to the entryway where he took jackets and hats hanging them before confirming the request for tea on the veranda out the back sitting lounge.

As they walked, Reko and Morrowe exchanging small talk about the wonderful smell of the flowers at bloom and the rather dry summer they were having Morrowe with his walking stick and Reko with his thumb looped in his belt that held his fanny pack, Vaughan sighed knowing that as soon as they settled with the tea conversation would turn to matters, he would rather not discuss.

It was not as if Vaughan was not aware of his privilege.

He came from wealth, extremely so on his mothers side, and his fathers inheritance was nothing to scoff at either the name McClellan not any one taken lightly. He was their only living child, making him the sole proprietor of the estate.

They were seated at a small table that Gregory had already seen fit to add an additional seat for Marrowes attendance, they faced the pool that sat near artfully placed rock and green rolling grass that was only disrupted by play equipment and toys strewn about for Xavier.

Further on paths divided into different sub parts of the large property to even more gardens.

"You have now missed 3 different deadlines Vaughan," Morrowe began before their tea could even cool.

Reko's murmured comment," tactful as always," did not go unnoticed but Morrowe made no comment.

Vaughan sighed staring to his tea frowning," And you think I don't know that?"

"It is precisely why you not only know that but seem to be doing nothing for the matter that we have a problem."

Reko leaned forward, looking to Vaughan," This is your career. You worked so hard to achieve, and even though you are the best-selling author at Biblio, and you could have been top of the charts worldwide if you kept pushing. Especially for Ascension's sequel. You could be dropped, Vaughan, I want you to know this."

"Its not as if I don't understand that," Vaughan hissed eyeing the short man with the prematurely snow-white head full of hair and short cropped beard, "I'm trying. I can't just make this stuff up!"

"Your job is literally to make stuff up Vaughan," Morrowe countered looking unimpressed," and you better start doing it, and with more tact than that trash you presented today. I do not know how much I can keep making excuses for you. You are lucky your mother did so well with Biblios rise and creation, or you would have far less leeway."

"I understand that I have been given many opportunities to meet these extended deadlines. I understand that I am lucky and should be, and am, grateful for the extensions. I just can't seem to write, I'm stuck!" He stood from his seat pacing in frustration wiping sweaty palms on his side.

"I believe this all boils down to what I was saying yesterday," Reko was rubbing his chin thoughtfully glancing to Morrowe before back to Vaughan whose annoyance was palpable from where he stood at the edge of the veranda his feet bare and stepping into the grass.

Morrowe though was intrigued," Please do tell, I have not been able to extract a single word from him regarding what the problem is."

"It's not that, "Vaughan objected though it was pointless.

"He writes shit for romance because he has never had a romantic relationship in his life. And his fans want to see a romance in Ascension, and I am sure the book he handed to you today was crap only due to it being his attempt at it,"

Morrowe looked like a cat with a canary while Vaughan groaned

"Please no."

"Yes!" Morrowe slapped his knee grabbing his walking stick and standing with a grin that spread across his face," That is precisely what it is I can see it now!"

"So the only solution," Reko continued after a sip smiling innocently while blue eyes twinkled," is to put Vaughan up with some ladies until one sparks the fire in his heart to bring it to Ascension."

"No no, absolutely not," feet slapping against the stone Vaughan stood firm, looking up Morrowes tall figure then back down to Reko's sitting form," I do not want to date anyone! I am perfectly happy as I am! I barely have any time to myself as is!"

"What I see," Reko pressed without flinching," Is a young man in his 30s, successful in his career, has a wonderful home and inheritance, in good health and is generally well liked-despite his at times reclusive nature. You aren't bad looking," again the thoughtful chin scratching," perhaps your hair is a bit long, and you could do to lose a little weight, but it has been said you are pleasing to the eye."

"So, a blind date would most likely be the best option-circumstances as they are."

Vaughan felt as if he would die right there.

Or wished he could.

Either melt into a puddle or burst into flames or just disappear.

Any of the choices were desirable in comparison to this.

"I DON'T need romance in my books - this is clear by the attempt at a romance story I submitted-and I most CERTIANTLY do not need it in my life," he huffed," Now if you will excuse me, I must get ready for tonight's charity dinner, I am certain Xavier has forgotten all pretense to prepare for it and he will be finished with his lessons soon. I would like for tonight to go smoothly."

He left without another word leaving the two older men to look to one another conspiratorially.