(Warning: You are French in this. IF you're already french *cough*halffrench*smugface**cough* celebrate. If not, roll with it. If your happy to be shown as a french person, add a smiley face. If not... Well... Read a different fanfic)
Francis Bonnefoy was proud of his roses. His garden was full of roses, the most beautiful flower in the world. He would never trust anyone with watering them or anything. He looked down at other people's wannabe roses that seemed wilted and not vivid in it's color. Francis smiled to himself, sitting in his garden. Sipping wine, he gently sniffed the sweet scent of the roses.
Then there was a horrible jangling, signifying that someone was ringing the doorbell. Francis sighed and scowled. Getting up, he cursed whoever was at the door. He crossed the floor and opened the door. There was the most beautiful woman he laid eyes upon. Her (H/C) hair was swept over one shoulder, and it went beautifully with her (S/C) skin. However, her eyes were a milky blue, searching for something she'll never see. Francis's breath caught in his throat. She was blind.
"Bonjour." Her hands reached out and lightly tapped his blue coat." Will zhe Madame or Monsieur want a belle rose?"
Her voice was soft, with a beautiful french accent. It reminded him of Satine, Moulin Rouge. But instead of a beautiful prostitute dying of tuberculosis, she was a beautiful rose seller, cursed without sight.
"Bonjour Mademoiselle." Francis whispered huskily.
She smiled and took up a rose. It was beautiful. His heart filled with envy. It seemed... So much more alive than his roses. The petal were vibrant with color, the stem had few thorns. His hand gently took the rose from her. Her beautiful face filled with fear.
"M-Monsieur? I-I need z-zhe money... P-Pleaze." Her voice shook.
Francis understood. She had obviously been swindled before, people taking roses and not giving money. He quickly dished into his pocket and counted out the money before taking her palm and putting the coins onto her soft skin. Her face cleared and traced the outlines of the coins and then the engraving on them. She was counting them by how they felt. Francis stared, entranced, by her beauty.
"Merci Monsieur." The girl gave him a beautiful smile then started to walk away slowly, hand outstretched and foot tapping a few paces in front to not bump into anyone.
Francis watched her walk off before going back into his house, awed. He went to his garden and planted the rose into the soil, noticing how it was more beautiful that any other of the roses. His heart was doing somersaults in his chest. Why? Why did she have such an effect on him? He had been with other women before, all more glamorous and fabulous than this simple, poor, blind, beautifully stunning, breathtaking, gorgeous, to-die-for flower seller. Maybe it was because of her simple clothes and the way her hair swept over her curved shoulder, her elegant breasts, her intoxicating scent, her soft hands, her height, her cute nose- Now stop it Francis!
He started to panic. He had a reputation to keep up as a womanizer. He can't... He mustn't.. Fall for the Blind Flower Seller. The most... beautiful... yet flawed creature he's ever met... Too poor to get that treatment to regain her eyesight... Yet rich in beauty and-
No. What was happening? This... This can't... Be happening... Francis gripped his golden locks. He was so intoxicated by this wonderful creature. Everywhere he looked he saw her. She was the roses in his garden, the sun in the sky, t-the companion in his bed.
The days went by, and his simple fascination by The Rose Seller transformed into want, need and , on occasions, alone in his bed, lust. But he didn't see her until a week later. Francis was carefully watering her rose when his door bell jangled. He sighed and stood up, not expecting it to be her. His girl.
But there you were. Hanging onto the basket, fingers pricked from the thorns. She smiled blindly and reached her hand out when she heard the door open. Francis couldn't breath. He took her hand, gently caressing the tiny, bleeding cuts. She started but smiled all the same.
"Bonjour, kind person. Would you like a rose?" The Rose Seller asked, taking out another vibrant rose, flushed with life and care.
Francis took the rose and gave her the money. He was staring at her face, but then watched her fingers again.
"Mon Dieu! Zhis is enough money for trois of mes fleurs!" The Rose Seller quickly tried to give him back the money, but Francis curled her fingers around the money.
"Zhen, fleur, I shall give you zhe money as a gift, but you must give me somezhing in return!" Francis smiled, his tone cheeky.
She blushed and put the money away.
"A-Anozher rose?"
"Non."
She never saw it coming. Francis gave her two sweet kisses on her cheek and then a short one on her mouth. She went red and hide her face.
"Ah, monsieur, you make me feel like a silly school girl." She giggled softly behind her hands.
"Well, I shall take zhat as a compliment." Francis purred.
She blushed and smiled again.
"Ah, mon petit fleur, you're too thin!" Francis exclaimed. He gazed at her thin body. "When waz zhe last time you ate?"
"Ah... Yesterday morni-"
"Why, zhat is terrible! Come inside!" Francis took her hand and carefully guided her up the steps. The Rose Seller clung to him.
He was amazed by her innocence and trust. Anyone else would have thought he was luring her in for sex or worse. But she didn't. It made him feel... Fuzzy. Francis smiled down at her, slightly happy about her blindness. Otherwise, she would of seen the pure care and love in his face. He called for one of his maids and told her to bring a large breakfast.
The maid smiled and twirled her hair and fluttered her eyelashes. Then looked at the Flower Seller's shabby clothes and her makeup-free face and sneered in disgust. 3 weeks ago, Francis had made love to her when she was down in the wash room. She still thought he was attracted to her. But he was just sexually frustrated and needed to release it. Anyway, she was rubbing his underwear in a way that turned him on.
The maid flicked her hair at Francis and then turned and walked to the kitchen, wanting Francis to notice her ass. But when she turned her head to see if he was staring, she saw him fawning over the blind whore, tucking her hair behind her ear and insisting that she let him treat her to some luxury.
Francis knew that his slut of a maid thought very little of his Flower Girl, but he really didn't care. Her hands skimmed over the fine silverware, the mahogany table, over Francis's soft hand a couple of times. Francis just loved everything about her.
"Mon Fleur. S'il vous plaît tell me your name. It iz killing me!" Francis smiled, taking her hand against and gently giving each thorn cut a small kiss.
The Rose Seller didn't answer but put her hands on his chest, going upwards. She held his face in her hands and slowly traced his features, as if trying to paint his face in her mind, trying to memorize. He gave a soft shiver when her fingers traced over his jaw, as he was amazingly sensitive there.
"Ah, monsieur. I shan't tell you my name, just yet. It iz better to leave zhem guessing zhan to tell zhem my name and zhen forget me." She smiled her pretty smile.
Francis' heart pounded, her warm hands cupping his face. He gently took her hands and gave her a cute kiss on the nose.
"Plleeaasseee! I shall die wizhout it!" Francis begged, trying to convey puppy-eyes into his voice.
She just laughed and patted his cheek. The maid returned and put the food down on the table, throwing Francis' a horny look and scowling at the Rose Seller. But the joke was on her. She didn't see the maid's thick lipped sneer.
"Well, if you aren't telling me your name, I shall treat you to mine!" He started twirling a lock of her hair between his fingers." Je m'appelle Francis!"
The Rose Seller smiled and nodded.
"Isn't zhat a girl name?"
Francis did a spit take.
"Excusez-moi?! It iz also a male name!" Francis spluttered.
The Rose Seller gave a giggle and felt her plate. Francis stopped her searching fingers and gave them a reassuring squeeze. Then he picked a grape from it's stem and pressed it gently against her mouth. She obediently opened her smooth lips and the grape vanished in her tasty-looking mouth. Francis inwardly wondered what it would be like to have his tongue in her mouth. He came to the conclusion that it would be amazing.
And so he fed his blind flower girl like this, pressing one of the delicious items of food against her lips and then she would part her lips and allow it to be placed on her tongue.
By the time that she had eaten her fill, it was past midday. When Francis told her this, she panicked and got up, knocking the chair down.
"Je suis désolé but I have to get to my flower selling! O-Ozherwise, I shan't have enough to pay zhe rent for myself and have food!" His Rose Seller seemed near tears and tried to grope for her flower basket. But when she couldn't feel it and accidentally stepped backwards, she fell. She gave a soft whimper of pain and tried to get back up.
Francis could feel his heart breaking at such a sight. He crouched down and held his petite flower girl in his arms, before helping her up. He wiped away a single tear that shamed itself by showing and gently hugged her frail frame.
"Non, mon petite fleur. You shall spend zhe day vith me." Francis softly cooed in her ear.
He felt her soft body relax and hesitantly hugged him back. Francis raises his hand and started to stroke strands of (H/C) hair away from her face. Her perfect face.
However, Francis lied. She didn't spend the day with him. She also spent the night with him. Francis had been careful, unwilling to hurt her or be too rough. And she loved him for that. That night, as she lay in his arms, she finally whispered her name.
"Francis?"
"Oui, Fleur?" Francis purred, stroking her hair, before trailing his solitary finger down her bare spine.
"(Y/N)."
"Excusez-moi, fleur?" Francis frowned. Then he got it. Her name."It's (Y/N)... It's my name." She whispered, stroking the ridge of his abdomen.
Francis let this information sink in. Then he gave a contented sigh.
"It's as beautiful as you look." Francis nuzzled into her neck, body relaxing against hers.
"I-I've never seen myself." (Y/N) whispered, cheeks dusted with pink.
"Never?" Francis whispered, shocked.
"I've been blind since birth."
Francis gave a soft "Hmm" of shock and amazement. Then he seated her up.
"In Paris, zhere is a special place where zhey can cure blindness. The kind of blindness people have from birth... I want to take you zhere." Francis whispered against her neck, stroking her hips.
"But zhat costs a fortune!" (Y/N) exclaimed.
"I vill pay for it!" Francis insisted.
And after weeks and weeks of insisting you get your eyesight back, you finally relented. After the operation, it took 4 days until your eye sight returned. Francis was dazzled by your bright (E/C) eyes. And when you laid eyes upon him, you said:
"Mon Dieu...I have fallen in love with an angel."