Let Me Be A Chapter

[Cage Wakefield]

"Please," Cage offered, his dark eyes measuring her face. "Call me Cage."

It was a simple request with not so simple connotations. The implied intimacy of it, the familiarity of knowing and going by the first name only. It was something Cage only told his many women that he took to bed to do, to call him Cage. But for some reason, grouping her in with all of them seemed like an unfair thing. And almost infuriating. She was hardly open and free with herself, and neither was she in an incredibly dire and desperate situation. She was, for all intents and purposes, the perfect lady. And deep down, Cage wanted nothing more than to corrupt the lass.

Instead, Cage found the need to assure her of herself. He stood from his seat and reached for her hands, hoping not to be rejected, at least not then. "Come here, Miss Ollivander," he spoke softly. "Give me your hands."

If anything, Cage was feeling that deep need to soothe the woman's internal fights, the way he soothed many other women before her. But for some reason, this one felt different. Perhaps because she had a brain upstairs. Which made him nervous, feeling as though she could see right through him. And she probably could.

  

[Violet MacFusty]

His request was met with a nod of acceptance. The joyful mood she had had upon entering the library had left her and instead she felt as if she were simply a shell of it, and incredibly self-conscious. She took another sip of her tea, but no longer did she enjoy the taste. It was an act that she did out of nervousness and to keep herself busy, at least to do something. Her hands fiddled about the cup and her eyes rested upon the folds of her skirts.



She did not look up until he rose and when she did so her look was quizzical. His offer was soft and tender, but she looked away from him, her cheeks burning once more. "I am sorry Cage, but I cannot. I think it is best, after your fall, that you sit for a while." Violet was not used to looking to others for sympathy or even to confide in. She had had no one close enough to her to cry upon or vent to. Everything was bottled up inside. She had an incredibly hard time admitting her hardships and an even worse time allowing others to help her when she truly needed it most.



Violet had folded in on herself and felt just as she had when she was at school. She knew that he wanted to help her, but she simply could not allow him to do so. There was nothing he could do. Her fate had been decided. Now all she could do was live it as best as possible. She continued to sip her tea and was startled when she went to take another drink and find it empty. Silently and without looking at him, she set it upon the table.



Her eyes burned in a way that forecast a waterfall of tears. Violet willed herself to turn away from him so that he might not see until she was able to control herself better. What was it with men lately and making her cry? She never used to cry and now here she was, crying so often one would think she was a spoiled child.

  

[Cage Wakefield]

The threatening tears on the edges of her eyelashes made Cage frown harder, and he felt terrible all of a sudden. He wanted to comfort the woman, as there was never a good reason for a woman's tears. He took her hands, despite her weak excuse, and pulled her up, wrapping his warm arms around her in a hug.

It was hardly appropriate, but there was no undertone to the motion. It was a simple hug as Cage sought to comfort Miss Ollivander, and not in the way he normally comforted the women. Of course, he would have liked to comfort her there too, but she didn't need comforting from the bedroom. She needed a little confidence, a little reassurance, and someone to talk to other than her books.

Soon, Cage pulled them into a slow, informal waltz, just trying to make her smile now. "Miss Violet, i am not so addled by my fall that I cannot hug a woman and dance with her without falling over myself," he teased her in a soft tone. Cage looked at her pretty little face, and he couldn't help but wonder in some deep vestige of his brain as to why no man had snatched her up still. It was unfathomable. She was even a comfortable lass, when she wasn't berating him for something. Cage smiled and twirled her around theatrically, hoping she would find herself more comforted.

He stopped, looking down at her, and he spoke honestly to her, still holding a hand in hers and a hand at her waist. "Violet," he began, hoping not to incur another head injury for his forward demeanor. "Talk to me. Cry on me, it's certainly okay. I am always here. And I am here for whatever you need me to be." Need. That was the one thing Cage always craved. To feel needed.

__________

((Hope it's okay that I assumed she'd accept him pulling her up. If not, shoot me a PM and I'll fix. ;) ))

  

[Violet MacFusty]

Her denial was set aside by him, as if he did not believe her to be serious. Perhaps she was not. When he pushed forward and brought her up into a hug, she did not resist. She could feel his heart beat against her chest. He was quite a bit taller than her - over half of a foot - but it didn't bother her any. She was just tall enough to rest her head on his shoulder and she quietly did so. Her arms slid tentatively around him, careful to only touch what would be considered proper if they were in a dance. She did not let the tears fall and fought quite bravely to hold them back. It was nice to be held by a man. She couldn't remember ever experiencing such a thing before and decided that it was a rather comforting feeling.



The movement confused her for a moment, but she recognized it as the waltz. Their form was horrid, but she knew that he simply was trying to cheer her up. She brought her head up to meet his eyes for a moment, a shy smile upon her lips as her tears dried. She spoke softly since she felt incredibly self-conscious, "There isn't any music." She found herself swaying along with him however, her freckled cheeks a glow with a bright red hue. She laughed while he twirled her, and quite forgot all about why exactly she had been upset with him in the first place.



She quieted when he stopped. His words were heartfelt, but she found that she could not burden him with such things. He could do nothing to amend her situation any. Violet would not request that he play matchmaker for her - she doubted his ability to set anyone up other than himself - and replied with a doubtful, "That is quite a promise, Cage."



The hand that held hers was warm and comforting, as was the hand on her back. It was not horribly inappropriate, since he would be allowed to touch her in such places were they truly dancing. Granted, there wasn't any music, but she thought that it would be alright since it was just the two of them.

  

[Cage Wakefield]

"Music? Who needs music to dance with a pretty woman?" he teased her softly. Her laughter as he twirled her and led her about the floor in the playful waltz made him smile himself. Cage had been with many-a woman, but there was something fundamentally different about his time with Violet. While he sought to soothe her and make her smile, he felt a deep want to talk to her. Just to talk. To tell her about things that he wanted to talk about, to listen to what she wanted to talk about.

Cage smiled down at her, tilting his head to look at her and he squeezed her hand gently before threading his fingers through hers and continuing the slow, unconventional waltz.

"But a promise it is," he finally answered to her. He enjoyed the warm feeling of having her close, and he struggled to smother his baser instincts. In truth, had she been any other woman, he would have already had half her clothes off. But also, had she been any other woman, he would hardly have taken her into his sacred library, offered her the truest part of him, his only redemption for his upper class station in life.

"My dear," he crooned out, looking down at her with lazily happy eyes. "It's my job to be whatever you need. And it looks to me that you need someone to listen to you for once. Someone to comfort you. Someone that exists outside the pages of a book." Cage spun her again, and then spun her back in, but incredibly close this time inadverdently. He looked down at her and tried not to think about and wonder how her lips would feel. It would have been incredibly crass of him to kiss her.

But he wanted to anyways.

  

[Violet MacFusty]

Violet was quite innocent when it came to men. She simply took what they were doing at face value - dancing. She was not aware of the path that his thoughts had taken and even if she could have guessed, she was unable to picture the specifics.



His next set of words was something that surprised her. Curious, she asked softly, "Why have you taken this job, as you call it, upon yourself? Surely you have much better things to be doing. I'm certain they're much more enjoyable." The next spin brought another smile to her face as her fiery red curls lifted from her neck due to the momentum. When she came around again, they settled softly around her shoulders once more. She was quite startled to find him so near to her. His face was only inches away from her and after a nervous glance at his lips, which were so near to her own, she turned her head modestly away.



Her heart pounded in her chest, but it was not from the dancing. Violet's freckled cheeks burned hotly as her mind whirled in confusion. What was happening? What was he thinking? More importantly, what was she thinking? She shouldn't have come here alone... but the way he held her was nice and the way he spoke as if he truly cared about her brought about an allure that she was unable to resist.

  

[Cage Wakefield]

Cage watched as she turned her head away modestly, and he felt a pang deep in his chest for her. God, she was innocent. Cage reached up and ran his fingers through her alluring curls before gently tipping her head back to look at him.

"I like to feel needed," he admitted softly. Cage smiled as he ran his thumb along her skin, feeling her quick pulse, and he glanced at her own pouty lips before releasing her face to set his hand at her own once more. He sighed softly and just pulled her back into his embrace, more to salvage his own self control. He couldn't quite handle watching her pouty lips and her blue-grey eyes being turned up to him without taking advantage of their closeness.

Cage was quiet for a long moment, his own thoughts twisted and tormenting. To be honest, Cage had never taken advantage of a woman so innocent before. Not unless they came to him first, and even then he was wary. He tended to frequent the women slighted by husbands or society, the ones that really needed his company. The attractive pariahs. But this one...this was different. Violet talked as though she'd been alienated from society, but he couldn't see why. She was hardly jaded and cynical, but sweet and open. Well open enough. There were things she wouldn't say, but Cage found that endearing, a need to keep control.

"Everyone needs something," Cage continued softly, allowing himself to rub her back in slow, tender circles. "Some people need money. Some people need fame. Some people need marriage. Some people need power. I just need to feel needed every once in a while." Women never permanently needed you. Which was why he frequented so many of them. But to be needed for a couple hours was a feeling Cage chased.

"What do you need?" Cage whispered, his lips brushing the shell of her ear.

  

[Violet MacFusty]

He liked to feel needed. It was an odd thing to say, she thought, although she could understand it. Violet liked to feel useful, which she assumed was quite similar to feeling needed. She liked to know that someone's life was improved from her efforts, whether it be a student doing a report or a child who simply needed a smile. Her pulse quickened as he touched her, tenderly. She swallowed nervously, suddenly anxious and unsure. Unable to meet his gaze, she focused on something much more neutral - the space above his shoulder.

His touch was comforting and she found herself leaning into it, despite her worries. It was no wonder why she had been warned to never allow herself to be alone with a man. If they were anything like Cage, she could only imagine the sort of trouble that girls could get into. "Perhaps you ought to get yourself a dog," She mused softly. It took her a moment to react from feeling his breath upon her ear. A part of her had enjoyed it and felt something inside her awake, a part that had been dormant up until now.



Quite alarmed by this, she pushed herself away from him and stepped back so that they were no longer touching, her eyes wide, speechless. Her mind whirled around and told her that she needed to go before he seduced her into doing or saying things that she should not. They had only met a few days previously - it was not at all proper for him to be doing such things.



"Mr. Wakefield," She gasped, "I cannot continue to allow you to act so familiar with me. I've only just met you!" Violet was quiet for just a moment, and then decisively said, "I ought to go. It isn't proper for me to be here with you." She moved toward the door, quite humiliated that she had allowed him to take advantage of her loneliness in such a way.

  

[Cage Wakefield]

Cage chuckled at her musing about a dog, and he honestly disliked dogs. Merry had always loved dogs, great hulking ones, and they'd constantly tortured Cage when he was young. No, he had no good memories about dogs. His amused look faded though as she pushed back away from him, appalled it seemed. Her scathing tone was completely acceptable, as he was being quite familiar with her. But by God he couldn't help himself!

Cage watched in horror as she made to leave, and he crossed the distance between them in a few strides, grasping out impulsively for her and frowning, holding her wrist gently. "No no! Wait," he spoke out, his hand still gently clasped around her wrist. "Please don't go. I...I quite enjoy your company, Miss Violet. Just your company. I..don't expect anything more." Cage felt as though he needed to clarify. He didn't expect to seduce her to do anything. He was impulsive and childish at worst, but he was honorable. Above all he was honorable, even through the dishonorable things he had done. And he was hardly wanting to let Violet flee from him just yet.

Cage's eyes looked over her face, her face flushed in frustration it seemed, and he sighed. He let go of her wrist defeatedly, but stayed postured towards her, looking as though he would chase her down until he made amends. "I do apologize for my familiarity. I'm not sure you would understand my motives even if I explained them." Cage looked off for a moment, a long contemplative moment as he looked out the window of the room, the window showing the snow that began to fall outside. It was nearing late afternoon, and he sighed softly, drooping a little. He was beginning to think he enjoyed her company a little too much.

  

[Violet MacFusty]

Violet hadn't known what to expect in his reaction, but she had not at all thought that he would physically try and stop her from leaving. It was just a touch to her wrist, but after the way he had slyly gotten her to react to him, she did not trust his touch at all. "You ought to learn to keep your hands to yourself like a true gentleman," She frowned. She realized that she was acting like an old maid, but she couldn't help it. Things were moving much too quickly and she was frightened. She felt threatened, though not entirely clear why, but it was enough to cause her to feel as if she needed to defend herself as well as her innocence.



Despite it all, she found that she had grown fond of him. Fond enough to feel guilty at his saddened expression. She crossed her arms over her chest, the ruffles upon her sleeves fluttering, and dared him, "Try me." She raised one of her brows, quite ready to leave him should he not explain himself. There couldn't have been any kind of a good reason as to why he would try to be so familiar with her. She had heard that men were often controlled by something that was not their head - and had not believed it. Perhaps it was only true for some men and not so much for others.



"If you cannot learn to treat me with respect Mr. Wakefield, I'm afraid I'll have to limit our contact to letters until you are able to better control yourself," Violet warned him. She was not willing to risk her reputation for his sake. It was bad enough that she had come to visit him! If only she had not allowed him to discover her weakness for books so quickly!

  

[Cage Wakefield]

The redhead had a temper, that was for certain. And she now had her back up. Cage stumbled for a moment, as to what to tell her to help talk her down, to make her realize that he was being honorable, and that he was being the gentleman. Cage frowned at her, though he laughed sadly. "And I should deserve it, my lady," he spoke to the remark of her letters. "I would wait for them every day, be certain of it. Though I hope it does not come to that."

Cage settled his mind, trying to discover how much to tell her and how much not to. But she looked determined. She wanted to know his intentions and his motives. And he could hardly even decipher them himself.

"I am surprised you have not heard of my reputation, Mis Violet," he offered, hoping that she would just listen. Just for a moment. "But I am certainly no chaste man. I am a liberal lover, and a lover of many. I love women in general, though I have had yet to find one to inspire me into anything further. I hardly believe in love, and I am...scared of marriage. I am scared of becoming like my father." Cage left it at that, though there was so much more to it. He glanced away, his shoulders drooping a little more.

"I have been used to the flighty, air-headed socialites that flock to me. And when they seek affection and passion, I give it to them. Because I like to feel needed. You see, I've never been needed for something wholesome and good before. Comforting you would be wholesome. Talking to you would be oh so good." The words tumbled out, more words than he intended, and he bit his tongue, looking at her with his dark, hooded gaze.

"The gentleman that you speak of, the ones that would let you alone and dance with you properly and hardly touch you before you were wed? They are not so gentleman, or many are not. I am not saying I'm quite the perfect gentleman either. But I will never lie to you. Or take advantage of you. And I should guarantee that others would, if given the chance." Cage already felt he'd said far too much, and he stopped, tucking his hands behind him more respectably, perparing for her flight. Though he tried to tell himself he wouldn't try to stop her if she did.

  

[Violet MacFusty]

As she listened to his explanation, her arms crossed tensely over her chest, her brows rose higher and higher. They were nearly to her hairline by the time he had finished. While it was honorable to tell her the truth - and she believed it was the truth, who would make such a thing up? - it was something that had shocked her. He was no better than a harlot. He took up other men's wives because he liked to feel needed. She thought it was incredibly selfish of him and wondered just how many marriages he had ruined for his own ego.



"I won't be used as an object to make you feel better about yourself," She told him cooly, her eyes narrowed and red brows brought down into sharp points, "I'm leaving, Mr. Wakefield, and I would appreciate it if you allowed me to do so without a fuss."



Gathering herself and lifting her chin, she turned on her heel and marched away from him. She threw the library's door open and hurried out into the foyer. Quickly, she asked the servant nearby for her cream overcoat which was brought to her promptly. She put one arm in and then the other in only half a moment and then turned back slightly to take one last glimpse of the wealthy home (and Mr. Wakefield if he happened to be in her line of sight). The door was opened for her and she stepped outside into the sharply cold and unwelcoming air of Hogsmeade.

  

[Cage Wakefield]

Cage was shocked at her cold tone and he clenched his fists, angry at himself. He didn't seem to say anything right or do anything right. Cage watched as she threw the door open and he bit his lip. He was unsure how to handle her, but he inherently felt that if he let her leave the way she did right then, he would hardly find her again. And she was one person he couldn't handle not seeing again. The other women, all of them, had been next to nothing to him in the morning. He'd given them what they wanted and he took what he wanted, and that was that. But Violet left him curious, unsated, and infuriated.

He ran after her, through the front door.

"Stop!" he called out, the snow billowing about, though it was a light snow, wisping about her as she began to walk away. "Violet, please wait!" Cage ran up to her, and he dared not touch her again, but he blocked her path, looking at her and trying to talk in hushed tones. The streets were empty because of the snow, but one never knew what eyes or ears were listening in.

"That is solely the point, dammit," he spoke, loosing his temper slightly. "You are not an object to me at all. You're vivd and interesting and I can't help but want to know you." Cage was slightly breathless from the running, and he narrowed his eyes to her. "I have a lot of chapters in love, Violet. But what if I said I don't want you to be a chapter. I want to make you the whole damn book." It was frivolous talk, abd Cage was unsure where it came from. He didn't love her, not at all, but she was a loveable being. And he was slowly coming to terms with the fact he would have to marry. But was she that marriagable lady he sought? She seemed as much. If he could ever convince her of his nobler intentions.

  

[Violet MacFusty]

She had not expected him to follow her. The shout was ignored and she continued walking. She wanted to get out of there as fast as possible so that he would leave her alone once and for all. It would only be a few more steps and she would be far enough from the house to apparate to her father's. He blocked her path and her eyes narrowed. Cage Wakefield was incredibly persistent. Had he not divulged his history to her, she might have thought it an admirable trait. Instead, she figured it came in handy whenever he had a wife who was hesitant. She refused to allow him to use the same charms for himself.



Her face reddened even further at his coarse language. How dare he speak to her in such a way! "You cannot possibly mean that," She replied, quite frightened by what he told her, "You cannot!" The last was said with a hint of horror and demand, as if she could order him to take back what he had said. It was nothing to joke around about, especially with a woman like Violet.



She glanced around the street, worried that there would be passersby who might over hear them, but luckily the street was empty. It did not mean that the gossip mill was not around however, and she wished that he would just allow her to leave to avoid smearing her reputation. It was clear that he wouldn't even notice a streak on his own. "Please let me go," She pleaded frustratedly, her fiery red hair whipping about from the winter wind.

  

[Cage Wakefield]

Cage looked at her horrified face and he furrowed his brow, looking up at her. "I know what I mean, Violet!" Cage clenched his fists to keep from saying stupid things, but it didn't seem to work.

"You hardly know me," he spoke. "And you don't know the truth of it all. I want to tell you. But only when you'll listen." His eyes were distraught and honest as he looked up at her, her red hair whipping about in the snow, and her looking beautiful, a scene of wonder and beauty. Something that he wanted, but not just carnally. Of course, he wanted her, but other than that... oh he couldn't decipher it all.

"Go home. Calm down. Find...find someway to give me a chance, Violet. For I will hardly stop trying." Cage swallowed and looked up at her again, his eyes pleading of their own accord, before he stepped aside to stop from blocking her path, his shoulders slumping with defeat.

  

[Violet MacFusty]

His outburst told her nothing of what exactly he'd meant. She had of course, assumed that it meant that he wanted to marry her, but it didn't make any sense. They had only just met. How could he possibly decide such a thing? It had to have meant something else, judging from his history. He told her himself that he was afraid to get married. It was all so confusing!



His plea was met with silence and a cool stare. Violet's heart pounded in her chest and she felt sick to her stomach. She had hoped that the visit would have gone much smoother and that perhaps she could have found another friend in someone who enjoyed books as much as she. He had had other intentions from the start, she realized, and cursed herself for not realizing it.



Without a word, she took a few more steps away from him. She turned on the spot, there was a crack! and she was gone.