The Clockmaster and The Inventor Part 4_(1)

“There we go…” I groaned, setting the crate down on the table. I sighed looking around the storage room; Once more I was alone in the factory, this time organizing shipments. Whimpering I arched my back. Stretching; I was more than sore from the days labor.
Scrap stood in the corner, awaiting my orders. “Scrap time to head home.” In response, the automaton straightened slightly, hissed and clomped toward the door. I opened it, and followed my invention into the dimly lit streets. The streets were half empty, mostly people going home for the evening; every so often a steam car passed by carrying a upper ring citizens or two.
As I walked, I became aware of what sounded like a violin from a few blocks away, nearby the clock tower. I headed toward the noise until I saw the small crowd gathered around a street corner.
Letting Scrap go on ahead toward the clock tower, I stopped to listen to the violin music. It was a quick and lively song, one that lifted the soul.“Who knew he could play the violin?” “Is there anything he can’t do?” People whispered. I pushed my way gently past people trying to see where the music was coming from. Finally getting through, i was shocked.
His lean fingers danced over the strings, the blue painted wood shiny slightly in the setting sun’s light. His hat was pulled low over his face, and he seemed to sway gently as he played. The chain of his pocket watch clinked lightly as he moved. The Clockmaster was a truly gifted man.
“Clockmaster…” i whispered, keeping up my facade as the loyal apprentice. Seeing me, a coy smile played on his lips, and he suddenly stopped playing. Placing the blue violin and matching bow in the open case, he suddenly out of thin air produced a rose, presenting it to me.
A few women squealed and i stared flabbergasted at it for a moment before taking it gently. I sniffed it. Its perfume brought me back to the days in my mother’s garden, among her many flowers and bushes.
“A gift for my loyal student.” The Clockmaster drawled in an unnaturally deep voice. “Careful with the thorns.” I nodded slightly, still taken aback by the surprisingly romantic gesture. The Clockmaster stooped down, snapping the case closed and carefully latched it. He stood up straight and said “Come now. We must be getting home.” I nodded, trailing after him.
As soon as the door to the Clock tower closed behind us, he dropped the pretense. “Finally. It’s good to be home!” He said normally, throwing the hat aside revealing gently black waves and brilliant green eyes. “When the bloody hell did you learn to play the violin?!” I asked incredulously as he put the case by the door. “And when did you even get one?” “I’ve known how since I was a child. As for getting it, it was being thrown out at the local music shop. Can you believe it?” He said grinning like a child.
I sighed and shook my head.