(Hello everyone! I would have this in bold print but I cannot figure out how to do bold print on mobile... So anyway, I just wanted to show you guys a little drawing I did of Eliza because I could never find the perfect celebrity to represent her. It's kind of just a rough drawing, but I might do a more realistic one later. Tell me how you guys like it, please! Also, I'm thinking of making a book of artwork specifically for The Scientist and The Servant, to help you experience the scenes better... Please let me know what you think of this idea!!! Thank you so much for your support, and please enjoy this chapter! :) )

I almost audibly moaned as swift slivers of liquid slid down my spine, shivering though the water was scalding. I nearly choked on the intense steam that arose from the hot shower. The alone time was all but welcome after today. I could not tear my mind away from the party, could not release the fact that I would have to take Sophia to the ball.

Sophia is not an ugly woman, but she seemed to be a few years older than me. Not that it mattered, but I still wasn't eager to bring her to the ball. My thoughts, my feelings, my actions, everything seemed to be clouded by the mist in the room.

I hopped out of the shower and shook the water out of my ear. Drying my slick, dark brown hair, I secured a towel around my waist and headed toward my room to grab some garments. Before long, I had clothed myself in a comfortable pair of pants and a casual homey sweater.

Today was a beautiful day, so I decided to venture outside to the back lawn, where the brisk air mixed with the scents and colors of autumn to form delight. This was the first time that I had truly cared to explore the back area. The entire yard was fenced in with a sturdy looking form of wood. Just inside the limits stood a massive oak tree, barren at this time of year, but beautiful nonetheless. On one of its sturdiest branches swung a tire, which lead me to wonder why we would ever need such a thing here, for it seemed to me like children's equipment.

I walked further into the yard, alongside the in-ground pool, which was understandably empty at this time. Dead leaves crunched under my feet during every step, until my legs had carried me to the fence's edge. I took a thorough look at the house, analyzing it inch by inch as I did with everything. It looked new, with the red bricks still their burnt crimson color. I had begun to enjoy staying here. In fact, it nearly felt like home.

I made my way back into the house, only after briefly trying out the tire swing. No sooner than I had stepped foot into the back door, I heard a knock at the front. I looked around for Eliza, as I assumed dinner should be in the works, but seeing that she was nowhere in sight, I walked to the door and opened it.

There stood a short young man with blonde hair and blue eyes, probably no more that twenty years of age. He held a few brown paper bags that teemed with assorted food items, and his shirt had a little metal name tag that read "George".

"I-Is E-Eliza here s-sir, Richtofen s-sir?" He stuttered shyly, his knees almost buckling.

I raised an eyebrow and wondered what his business with Eliza was.

"Why do you want to see her?" I asked, ignoring his question. A strange sense of protection surfaced in me. I could not explain it.

"I-I have her o-order of g-groceries... I'll come back-"

"George!" I heard Eliza's footsteps bound down the stairs, and I wheeled around to face her. She came to the door with a white towel wrapped around her long hair, a waft of vanilla fragrance following her.

"H-Here's your weekly shipment! S-Sorry I'm late I-"

"You were supposed to be here three hours ago!"

My eyes widened at Eliza's suddenly bold nature, as her voice lowered, scolding the boy.

"Where were you? Were you with Cyndi again? This is becoming a habit!"

"I-I'm sorry Eliza! Cyndi and I were... we were... uh..." The boy blushed hard, and I raised an eyebrow, taking his hints.

Eliza snatched the bags from the young man's hand. "Next time don't be late... Richtofen likes his dinner made before midnight!" I nearly smirked at her informal address to me, and her fake expression of concern. She slammed the door in his face, turning swiftly towards me. Her eyes widened in horror, and her face turned red. "Oh God..." She rushed to the kitchen and sat the groceries down on the table, with me close behind her.

"Good evening, Eliza," I said, smiling at her wet hair for an apparently comical reason.

She looked at me and her blush intensified.

"Ah! Uh... Ergm..." She glanced at her hair and muttered a few inaudible words of displeasure. "Mr, Richtofen I'm so very sorry, my God dinner is late, the dishes haven't been washed, my hair! My hair is dripping wet!" She began fumbling around the kitchen, talking to herself.

"Eliza, calm down, everything is fine, I can wait. Would you like my help?" I said, coming behind her as she worked. She slammed some vegetables on the counter and began cutting away hastily, ignoring me completely.

"If I can just- that boy!"

"Eliza-"

"Aahh!!!" She threw down the knife down and grabbed her other hand. A pool of red began to form on the cutting board.

"Eliza, are you okay?!?" I immediately ran to the watery-eyed girl's side, and without thinking, I took her hand and forced an examination. The gash was deep, right down the side of her thumb. She must have had at least three of these cuts now!

"Ah it's just a cut! Again..." She said, jerking her hand away and turning the sink on. I could tell that it was taking everything in her to keep from crying.

"Eliza, let me take care of that." I pleaded protectively.

She glanced at me. "Oh no, no, absolutely not Mr. Richtofen I've got it." She washed the cut and wrapped it in some paper towel for now. Then, wincing, she proceeded with dinner.

I took the knife from her hand. "Then let me do this. You go and clean up, and finish your bath." My eyes drifted to her hair.

She looked at me as if I were an alien.

"No, Mr. Richtofen I won't allow it! I am-"

"That's an order."

She backed off, glancing at the floor.

"Please." I finished, fearing that I had come off as rude.

She hesitantly walked away, lingering in the doorway for a moment, as if to say something.

"Thank you so much, Mr. Richtofen." she said.

I smiled whole-heartedly. Her satisfaction made me all warm inside.

I found a cookbook in the cupboard and used it to my advantage. My heart thumped as I flipped through its delicate pages, looking for a meal to prepare. Why was I so nervous? Could it be the fact that I would be serving Eliza, instead of vice versa? I had to live up to her example, it would be a challenge. It had occurred to me that Eliza never ate her own food, and she always seemed to eat in seclusion, if she ate at all. I wanted to give her something special for a change.

Just as I had finished preparing two plates of steaming mushroom and chicken fettuccine alfredo, I heard Eliza's footsteps in the living area.

"Dinner is served, Ms. Washington." I addressed in the nicest way possible, without letting my voice crack. I had heard her explain before that she wasn't permitted to eat alongside me, but I quickly pushed that absurd rule from my mind.

Eliza turned to face me, at first not making eye contact. I sat my plate at the head of the table, and then her plate to the right of mine. She glanced down at the plate, as though it were a foreign entity, but I could also see a flicker of desire behind her eyes.

"Y-You made some for me?" She asked, still looking at the food.

"Of course I did." I replied, sitting at the table.

She shook her head. "Sir, I cannot accept this."

I was afraid of that.

"Why not?" I asked, looking at her with a disappointed expression.

Her eyes met mine, and I knew immediately what she would say. But instead of speaking, her eyes trailed away as if she were looking for an answer. A quiet grumble came from her stomach, nearly putting a funny spin on the moment.

I retained my chuckle, but she blushed roughly anyway. "You're hungry. Please eat. I've already prepared it just for you."

Once again, her eyes met up with mine, only this time there was an unreadable emotion secluded within them. It was as if I were sifting through an ocean of hay, looking for the one needle that was that emotion, and somehow in searching for this needle, I could get lost in that sea forever. The same went for those big blue eyes that I all but tore myself away from. I tried to think of something else to look at, anything but her. But I had to wait for her to look away, and that left us both a little red.

"Thank you," She finally agreed, taking the plate and turning to walk away, assumingly to the attic.

"Wait!"

I couldn't stop that word from escaping my lips, I could not stand to see her walk away in shame to the attic again. As soon as she turned around, I felt the burn. What do I say!?

Just ask her! Just tell her you want her to sit at the table with you! It's not that hard! Okay Eddie, you got this, don't let your anxiety take advantage of you!

"You'll need a fork for that."

YOU IDIOT!!! Of all the things you could have said to bring her back you had to say an idiotic thing like that? You blithering dunce!!!

Immediately I slammed my tomato-red face into my hands, knowing that her eyes must have been digging a ditch in my skull already.

She's going to think you're a psycho!

"I guess you're probably right!" A tiny, short spurt of laughter, barely audible to my ears, escaped her lips.

Did she just laugh?

I refuse to believe it. That was in my head, an angel's call, the music of God's orchestra, it cannot be an earthly sound that has just met my weary ears. No it was a dove's song, a seraphim's hum, a siren's beckoning. But it was none of these things. It was her laugh... and it was the most beautiful thing to ever have met my ears.

I lifted my head to see her across the room in the kitchen, pulling a fork from the drawer. A smile sat on her lips, an uncommon sight, it seemed. Once again she began to walk away. No. Not this time.

"Eliza, please sit with me." I said it. I had really worked up the courage to say it.

Her smile faded and she gave me a look that begged to know if I was serious. I returned that look with a positive answer.

Eliza carried the plate back to the table and sat it down with a little hesitation. I knew this was against her rules, but I was so glad that she broke them tonight. She took the seat to my right and nervously smiled at me. I continued to look at her as she took the first small bite of her meal. She closed her eyes as she chewed, absorbing the flavor as I soaked up her enlightened mood.

"This is so freaking good." Her eyes popped open and widened suddenly, as did mine. She gasped, covering her mouth as if she had spoken the Lord's name in vain. "Mr. Richtofen, I am so sorry, I didn't mean to speak so rudely! Oh, what has gotten into me of late! Oh please forgive me, I promise I-"

I chuckled. "It's quite all right, Eliza..." I held up my hand comfortingly to stop her troubled words. I took a bite of the fettuccine, equally surprised by its flavor. "You're right. This is freaking good, if I do say so myself." I laughed, and she did the same.

Yes, keep doing that. That is music to my ears.