Chapter 3
The shopping district was bustling with life. Everywhere one looked, all that could be seen were energetic people, nearly all with shopping bags in hand. Rarely did the young high schooler find herself walking these streets. More often then not, all shopping had been designated as Mireille's responsibility, not hers. However today was different.
As she browsed by each store nervously, Kirika tried her best to discern the best possible gift to sooth the fiery blonde. Shirts; pants; food; jewelry. So many things yet none of which seemed to fit the girl's expectations. Sure, the dark haired girl could buy some nice clothing for her roommate but what would be the point? Kirika, buying clothing for another, when she didn't even know how to purchase any proper fitting outfits for herself, it was just absurd. Arra!! Angrily ruffling her dark tresses, Kirika couldn't help but mentally scream at herself. What was she even doing here?! Shopping was Mireille's thing, not hers! Yet, even though she knew this, Kirika couldn't just leave empty handed, she needed something to make amends with the blonde. Something that would be able to relay her feelings of regret better then her words would be able to. Heaven forbid, Kirika was horrible when it came to expressing her feelings, especially with words. So for her, actions always spoke louder then words, even if they weren't the most outlandish actions.
When tears could no longer fall, the distressed woman lay motionless, attempting to collect her thoughts. Calm down Mireille. This isn't like you. Creating such a scene over something so small… Way to blow it out of proportions! Slowly rising to her feet with strength anew, the blonde progressed to the washroom. Now clean yourself up before Kirika can see what a mess you are. Start cooking. We still need to eat Mireille. Alright, start preparing supper… Each thought that crossed her mind seemed to be repeated twice if not three times, almost as if the young lady had suddenly grown incapable of deciphering what exactly was true and just what might be false.
Drying the water from her face, Mireille found her gaze resting on the small mirror that hung before her. What stared back at her almost caused her jump. Hesitant fingers rose, brushing gently across the smooth reflective surface. Tear stained trails adorned both sides of the woman's face. Both of her eyes had become red and puffy from the hours of crying that had finally subsided just moments ago. The features truly seemed foreign upon her complexion. Was this really her? Or was someone playing some sick joke? Brushing the side of her face, Mireille could discern no lie in what the mirror showed her. Exhaling heavily Mireille turned hard on her heels, almost too hard as she stumbled forward rather then taking a graceful step. However, it took her away from the mirror; the mirror which at this moment felt like the devil in disguise. Supper! I must start supper. Mireille told herself as she made her way into the kitchen, avoiding all possible eye contact with any reflective surfaces.
Navigating through the crowd seemed much more difficult then she had remembered. No matter which direction Kirika chose she was confronted by masses of bodies, seemingly pushing her back, delaying her forward progress. Honestly, at this rate reaching the other end of the district appeared impossible.
Out of the corner of her eyes, Kirika spotted a familiar store. It was a small place, located right next to one of the local cafes. Edging her way closer, Kirika caught a closer look; a flower shop.
Flashback
It had only been a few weeks since I had moved to France with Mireille. They had just been given their new target; Albert Dux. A big shot in the business world, Albert Dux. Vanier's young president died in an accident, but no one related to him thought it was an accident.
On our way to meet with the client, Mireille and I both wandered down a smaller, more quiet section of the shopping district. As they passed by a tiny flower shop, Mireille stopped a particular case of flowers catching her attention.
It didn't take long for her to decide which flowers she would get. "I'd like come of these." The blonde said with a pleasant smile upon her face, while Kirika staring oddly at another set of flowers nearby.
"Thank you very much. The belladonna lilies, correct?" Came the sweet reply of the elderly woman working there.
"Yes." Mireille's voice seemed so soft, so gentle.
"You've bought those flowers before?" My response came in its usual manner, curt and to the point. Those white lilies seemed to capture my gaze. They were truly breath taking, yet what need had we for flowers. We had enough troubles taking care of two small plants, let alone flowers. Plus, we were never home enough to enjoy their breathtaking sight. Her voice woke me from my trail of thoughts.
"You sure remember some trivial things, Kirika." Her expression seemed a bit odd, but I didn't notice, the only thing I could see where the white belladonna lilies that Mireille had so tenderly set her sights upon.
End Flash Back
That was it! Why hadn't she thought of it before? Pounding one clenched fist, into her other open palm, it was as if Kirika had just been granted the greatest vision of all time. One that would lead her to a life of ease and wonder.
In a few quick strides, Kirika found herself at the entrance of the small shop, the same elderly lady her and Mireille had encountered before was smiling at her now. Parting from the small vase of assorted flowers, the woman wiped her hands on her already stained apron. "Is there something I can get for you Miss?"
Quickly scanning over all the different types of flowers, crimson orbs came to rest on a bundle of white. Motioning to them, I nodded to the storekeeper, "I will take those please."
"Ara, the belladonna's I see. Quite a good choice, they are my personal favourite as well." Carefully taking the bundle Kirika had requested, the woman went to work wrapping it and tying a soft red ribbon about it to hold the wrapping paper in place.
Hastily, Kirika accepted the bouquet, paying for them, thanking the woman time and time again. Flowers in hand, the young girl left the store, weaving her way through the crowd of people all the while ensuring the flowers did not get damaged. I hope she will like her gift. It's not the biggest or the most expensive thing, but please, please let it work.
Author Note: I know I know!! It took me forever, but I took a week off work and went a little crazy, just sitting about, going out, all that stuff.
But here is the next chapter. Short, but again, writers block.
Hopefully if I am not too busy today and tomorrow I'll have another chapter up.
