If The Moon Fell Down Tonight

~~Jake’s POV~~

If I was going to make her fall in love with me, I would have to treat her with kindness and respect. I released her, watching her jump to the opposite side of the bed, curling up in the fetal position. I sighed before standing up. She, in turn, stood up as well, watching my every move. I gave her a small smile before turning around and exiting the room. I shut the door behind me, telling myself that patience was key. I would let her explore first.

~~Jacelen’s POV~~

So now you are officially confused. You didn’t really know what to do. You looked around the room for a second before dashing to the door. It was open, and you stuck your head out. Jake had disappeared, leaving you alone. Your curiosity gets the best of you and you walk down the hallway, following your nose. You soon smell the delicious aromas of food and follow it, leading you to a kitchen. You look inside one of the small windows in the doors and see a few girls your age working hard around the kitchen. You slowly open the doors and nobody notices you. You then realize that you are extremely hungry and stare at all the food. What is all of this for? You quietly walk over to one of the counters and nobody notices you. You pick up a block of cheese and cut yourself a slice of it with a knife from the holder. Nobody notices at all. In fact, it’s almost like you are invisible. You cut yourself a few more pieces of cheese and leave the kitchen, just wandering about the mansion aimlessly.

As you walked through the halls, you began to smell the aromas of food again. You followed it, wondering how many kitchens there were in this place. When you opened the door, everyone looked at you with warm smiles on their faces. You were greeted with a barrage of hellos, hugs, hand shakes, and many other numerous forms of greeting. You had a boat load of names thrown at you, everyone trying to tell you who they were all at the same time. All you could do was smile and say hello back. After a 5 minute greeting, a bell could be heard about the kitchen. At the sound of the bell, everyone merrily went back to work, chatting away. You walked over to what looked like the sue-chef and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Umm…excuse me, sir, but I was wondering what exactly am I supposed to do here?”

“Well mademoiselle, we must get you working, hmm-hm!” he replied with a thick French accent and a huge smile. He was a little chubby, with bright red cheeks and big blue eyes. He was short, only about 5’2. “I am Chef ViCCtor!” He said, warmly grasping your hand with two hands. He pronounced the Cs in his name with a Ka sound, and it came out like ViCCtor. Interesting.

ViCCtor led you around the kitchen, showing you the different pots and pans and explaining to you what they were used for. It was hard to understand what he was saying through his accent, but you managed to understand when he was asking you a question and when he was making a statement. After the grand tour, ViCCtor placed you in front of an empty counter in the corner. The counter was made of simple tile with a large cutting board right in the center. There were cabinets directly above your head, filled with what you assumed to be spices and seasonings. Next to the counter was a small ice box, and when you opened it you found every vegetable and ingredient that you could imagine stuffed inside. It was literally filled to the top with ingredients. After observing what the other people were doing in the kitchen you followed suit, aimlessly throwing together a simple soup.

~~One Week Later~~

~~Jake’s POV~~

I hadn’t seen Jacelen in a week, though I had been told that she was working in one of the kitchens. Seeing as we had about 15 different kitchens in the whole mansion, I had no idea which one. My mother had told me that since she was a servant, there was no reason for me to be with her. My mother obviously did not like Jacelen at all. Though about 4 days after Jacelen’s arrival, Mother came down with a horrible cold. My thoughts were temporarily taken off Jacelen and turned to my Mother. I demanded that every chef in the mansion prepare the finest meals they could conjure. I was determined to make my Mother well again.

~~Jacelen’s POV~~

Everyone had been busy cooking and cooking the whole week that you had been there. There, meaning the mansion. In real life, you didn’t really know where there was, but it was where you were now, so it didn’t really matter. You kept wondering where all the food was going to. It seemed that there was always something cooking on the stove. Finally you got up the nerve to ask ViCCtor what all the cooking was for. ViCCtor explained that the lady of the house had gotten sick and wouldn’t eat anything that they served her. He explained that she was always complaining of being cold and nothing sounded good to her.

Whenever you were sick, you always enjoyed the homemade soup that you mother would make for you. She would serve it with a baked potato and a glass of apple juice. It was the best. And this woman, no matter how much she hated you, needed it. You set to work finding the proper ingredients to make the soup. After about 2 hours of cooking non-stop, the timer finally went off and the soup was done. Nobody was in the kitchen anymore, seeing how the lady refused to eat anything. You found a bowl and poured a helping into it, putting the potato on the side with a little bit of salt. You put everything on a tray and looked at the map on the wall by the door. According to the map, the lady’s room was three stories up, the last room on the left. You climbed the stairs, one at a time, careful not to spill the soup. It took you a good hour to get all the way there, and when you finally arrived at the top landing, it was almost sundown. You walked down the hallway and found the lady’s door. You knocked politely, waiting for an answer. Though the person who looked you in the face when the door was opened was someone entirely unexpected.

Jake’s icy blue eyes stared into your green ones and sent chills down your spine. He turned his head slightly over his shoulder, mumbling something to whoever was in the room.

“This is for your mother,” you said quietly, offering the tray.

“You can take it yourself,” he replied, opening the door for you. The room was beautiful, sporting a Victorian style architecture and old English décor. Your eyes soon fell upon a small, shrunken face that apparently belonged to the lady. She looked so different than when she did when you first met her in the hallway: she had dark bags under her eyes and her perfect hair was in thin sagged ringlets down the side of her face. You walked in and placed the tray on the table beside her, smiling weakly. She gave you a death glare then looked at the food. She moved her finger motioning for you to place it in front of her. You did, watching as a frail finger lifted the spoon and sipped it into her mouth. Her eyes went wide as she looked at the food. Then she started shoving in spoonfuls of the soup. At first you were taken aback, and then smiled, realizing what you had just accomplished. You were about to leave when Jake put his arm out in front of you, stopping you.

“Thank you,” he whispered, smiling.

You offered a smile back and he removed his arm, letting you out of the room.