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MidReal Story
The Heartbreak of Blackwood Manor
Scenario:男孩愛女孩 女孩不愛男孩 最後男孩為了女孩死亡
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Ethan Blackwood
loyal, and impulsive. Ethan falls deeply in love with Elizabeth, but she does not reciprocate his feelings. Despite this, he remains devoted to her and eventually dies saving her from a fire. His love for Elizabeth remains unwavering until his death.
Elizabeth Hart
distant, and conflicted. Elizabeth does not return Ethan's love but values his friendship. She struggles with her feelings for him after his death and grapples with the guilt of not being able to save him.
Thomas Hart
caring, and responsible. Thomas looks out for Elizabeth's wellbeing and tries to keep her safe during the fire that kills Ethan.
I loved her from the very moment I first saw her.
The way she looked at me, as if I was the only person in the world, the way she smiled at me – that smile still haunts me even after all these years.
Her name was Elizabeth Hart, and she was the most beautiful and charming creature I had ever seen in my whole life.
The only problem was that we belonged to different classes of society – she was a maid in a house near mine, and I was the son of a wealthy businessman.
But I never thought about that; all I wanted was her, and so I started going to her house just to get a glimpse of her.
One day, I gathered my courage and walked across the courtyard where Elizabeth was hanging laundry.
I had a freshly cut red rose behind my back, and when I reached her, I revealed it.
The morning sun caught in her dark hair as she gave me a small curtsy.
My heart pounded in my chest as she looked at the rose – its petals were still wet with dew.
She hesitated for a moment, her hands frozen on the white sheet she was pinning.
Then I extended the flower toward her, and she took it from me, her fingers avoiding touching mine.
Her eyes met mine, and in that silent exchange, I knew everything had changed.
The next moment, I heard heavy footsteps behind me.
Elizabeth's eyes widened in alarm, and she quickly stepped back from me, the rose hidden behind her skirts.
I knew the rose's thorns must be pricking her palm, but she didn't flinch.
Her employer emerged from the shadow of the house – Mr. Richardson, a tall man with a thick mustache.
His eyes were narrowed as he looked at me with displeasure.
I straightened my back, trying to reach his height even though I was a good head shorter than him.
The morning sun was shining too brightly, making it hard to see anything else but Elizabeth and Mr. Richardson standing in front of me.
The courtyard was empty except for us; it felt like we were actors on a stage.
Elizabeth kept her eyes fixed on the ground, her shoulders tense.
Mr. Richardson's voice cut through the silence, "What business do you have here, young man?"
I ignored his tone and took a step forward, my eyes fixed on Elizabeth.
She was holding the rose tightly in her hand, and I saw a drop of blood form where the thorn had pricked her finger.
Mr. Richardson's voice boomed again, "Leave immediately, boy."
But it sounded distant as I looked at Elizabeth's downcast face.
The morning sun was casting long shadows across the courtyard's cobblestones as I moved between them.
The kitchen door opened, and Thomas, Elizabeth's brother, appeared there.
He was watching us with concern.
I reached for Elizabeth's free hand, my fingers trembling.
The rose dropped from her other hand, its petals scattering on the ground as it hit the cobblestones with a soft sound.
Elizabeth's hand slipped from mine as I turned and walked away, leaving the rose and everything it symbolized behind.
I paused mid-stride on the cobblestones, my heart pounding in my chest.
The morning sun was casting long shadows across the courtyard, and I could feel the warmth of its rays on my skin.
The sound of Elizabeth's voice calling my name echoed in the empty space, making it seem like she was standing right behind me.
But when I turned back, she was still standing between Mr. Richardson and Thomas, her finger pressed against her white apron where the thorn had pricked her.
A small spot of blood had formed there, and I could see it spreading as she stood frozen in place.
Her dark eyes met mine, their intensity piercing through me like a knife.
But her expression remained unreadable as she stood there, her hand pressed against her apron.
The rose petals were scattered on the ground at her feet, stirring in the light breeze that blew across the courtyard.
Mr. Richardson's face reddened with anger as he took a step toward Elizabeth, but she raised her hand to stop him.
"Please, Mr. Richardson," Elizabeth said softly, her voice steady despite the tension.
Thomas stepped forward, his eyes darting between us, "Elizabeth has the right to choose her own path."
Mr. Richardson's gaze shifted to Thomas, his voice dripping with disdain, "And what path would that be, young man?"