Josephine Muscat had forgotten was happiness was. She'd resigned herself to an eternity of damnation, penitence for a sin she could not remember committing. She'd scrubbed his house, pleasured his body, walked in his shadow, and lived his twisted reality long enough that she'd forgotten there was anything else. Her lips had forgotten what it was to smile, the muscles atrophied from disuse. And just as her lips had forgotten how to smile, her soul had forgotten how to laugh.

That had changed at the first sight of those red shoes.

The warmth of them had been a small one, at first. She hadn't realised how nourishing true colour was for your soul. And though it didn't quite laugh at the shoes, her withered, tired soul did raise it's head for the first time in what may have been eons. It raised it's head, and felt the soft, soft warmth of hope. So Josephine had to go to the chocolaterie, and, though it took her returning more than once, from the moment she'd seen into the windows, she knew she had to go inside.

She'd nearly had a heart attack when she saw Vianne in the back room of the pub. It was partially the fear of discovery, that Vianne had come to confront her about the stolen chocolate. But it was more than that, as well. It was the fear, the terror, that Serge would come back and… and what? She didn't even know anymore, she couldn't even think of it. Her mind wouldn't let her. But even as Vianne left, the rose crème melting in her mouth gave her the same warming sensation as the sight of Vianne's red shoes.


A/N: This was originally intended to be the beginning of a oneshot, but I think I'm going to try to expand it, so this just became the intro of what's probably going to turn into a fic spanning the length of the film.
P.S. If anyone reads this and happens to ship these two, drop me a review or a pm even just to let me know that I'm not the only one. =D