ho hum.
in case you don't know, the title is the song, Never Is A Promise, by Fiona Apple, who is the girl's 'faceclaim'. Just in the expressions, I think. In looks? Ehh. Maybe.
this chapter is mostly dialouge, my bad.
Sitting down across from her at a sandwich shop he has never heard of, he is only mildly disappointed that she is back to being clothed. She looks different than how she did back in the room full of artists, no longer fairy-like, no longer angelic; more raw, more solid, as if when they were together, she ceased to be as ghostly-like.
He is surprised when she orders a large burger with oily fries and a shake because she seemed to be the type to be vegan, or the type to drink tea unironically and eat homemade quiches. But he isn't complaining, it only makes him love her more.
"What the fuck are you staring at." her voice cuts him, because usually girls in movies would blush and look away when a boy would stare at them lovingly, but she seemed annoyed by his presence.
"Are you going to eat all of that?" his voice carries a smile.
"Don't touch my food." she means business, and it makes him laugh. Oh God, she's perfect, absolutely perfect.
"Stop looking at me like that."
"Like what?"
"Like I'm perfect." There was that tone again...the same bitter and ugly way she said 'in love' to him back at the white room. Perfect.
"But you are." he can't help but say it, because he means it, and he's never meant anything more in all of his life.
Because she was made for him.
She scoffs angrily and takes a small handful of fries into her mouth, "You're worse than the artists...You sound like my mother."
That raises a lot of questions, and he is filled to the brim with curiosity about her life.
"Worse? You seemed to be quite comfortable around them," He brushes off her scoff; tries to appear confident.
She rolls her eyes, "I'm used to that environment; humans fascinate me."
"Humans? Aren't you one?"
"Am I?" she looks him in the eye as he is taken aback at the possibility. But no, she does not smell of something evil or supernatural, she smells like a human.
He's laughing at her words, "Of course you are!"
"You seem so sure of yourself; I hate that." she drinks from her shake when her mobile begins to ring. Something old, something French; the type of music he would expect to hear in a 1920's mafia movie. She answers knowing who it is, and begins to speak rapid French; at least, he feels it's fast, though she is probably speaking at a normal pace. Her face remains neutral throughout the conversation, and it's almost like he isn't even there. Who was she talking to? Her boyfriend? He had heard from Paul that French girls were the cheating type, but he mentally shakes his head at the thought; he should think better of her! Have faith.
Finally, she is finished with her conversation, and seems to be just a little more exhausted than before.
"Who was that?" he can't help but be nosy.
"My sister." she says with such a bitter tone, that he wishes he never asked.
"Oh." Shit. Damn. Fuck. Well either she hates her sister, or she hates him for wanting to know about her. Gotta change the subject, gotta change the subject, gotta change the subject,
"Where are you from?"
"Paris." the bitter and ugly tone returns, as if the city itself had scorned her.
More surprises; though she was definitely from either Canada or France, he didn't think Paris; not that he knew any other cities in France besides Paris. She didn't seem the type to be a Parisian, no designer clothing, no shoes, a big warm overcoat with fur trimming that went down to her knees, and tousled, light red hair.
"And your parents?"
She inhaled sharply, shit, that's a touchy subject too, and he was about to apologise and drop it, but she replied, "My mother is from Paris as well, and my father is from Marseilles."
"Are you staying here permanently-"
"Why are you interrogating me?" she interrupts him, looking into his eyes again, and he feels as if he is about to fall apart.
"You said it yourself, I'm in love with you." he means it to be teasing, but rest assured, he feels it. He knows he does.
"Now you sound like my sister," she shakes her head, seemingly disappointed in him, and he is not sure what to say to that.