The next morning Quasimodo was still not with us. Jasmine didn't seem to have noticed anything about the incident and I decided not to tell her anything about it either. I felt pretty miserable, explained this by saying that I slept terribly and finally wanted to sleep on a comfortable mattress again.
"Where's Quasimodo?" Asked Jasmine after she was somewhat awake.
"I don't know," I said and shrugged. We decided to look for him and parted ways. I hadn't run far when I heard something that sounded like someone was being hit. I followed the sound and saw Quasimodo kneeling with his back to me, his torso free, and hitting his back with a stick. Again and again, his back was already completely red from the beating.
"Quasimodo ?! What are you doing?" I shouted, startled, as I stepped in front of him and held his arm, which was about to strike again.
"I hurt you. That was unforgivable.", He said and tried to loosen my clutch grip, "I have to repent for that."
"Do you think it changes something by causing yourself pain ?!", I cursed, "No, that doesn't change anything. What happened, happened. But the next time I get overwhelmed, you should me first ask if I would like to. It can be that I am indisposed or the situation was unsuitable, like yesterday. "
Quasimodo let the stick drop, he seemed to have understood me. He looked at me guiltily: "Forgive me!" He said and hugged me. He nestled his head against my chest because he was still kneeling in front of me. I didn't blame Quasimodo. He didn't know any better. He first had to learn what to look for in love and I wanted to try to teach him.
I grabbed his arms and helped him to his feet. Then I picked up his shirt that he had thrown on the floor next to him. When I stood in front of him with shirt in hand I was amazed at his muscular chest, which I saw exposed for the first time. I stood there for a moment and looked at him, fascinated, until I noticed that Quasimodo was looking to the side, embarrassed, and reaching for the shirt in my hand. I shook my head to clear my mind and then gestured for him to raise my arms. I then put his shirt on and stroked his chest and his equally muscular stomach, which actually vaguely showed a six-pack. Then I stretched out my hand to him: "Shall we go back? Jasmine was looking for you in the other direction."
Quasimodo took my hand and we both went back to the former campfire. Jasmine was just running back from the other side when she saw us.
"Somehow I thought you would find him," said Jasmine.
I shrugged, embarrassed. We immediately decided to go further west to get back to Paris.
"Tell me, what do you want to do when we're back in Paris?" Asked Jasmin.
"I don't know," I said.
"Maybe we should focus on getting back home."
I stopped at the sentence abruptly. I was afraid that she would address that. But so fast?
"Perhaps the emerald is the solution to the problem again. After all, it brought Quasimodo into our time and it brought us here."
"Probably. We'll see when we're back in Paris. Quasimodo doesn't seem to have taken him with him," I said.
The rest of the way I pondered what to do. Neither of us caused space / time anomalies yet. Could it have something to do with the fact that we were still needed for something we didn't know?
We reached Paris the following night and decided not to stop until we reached Notre Dame. When I saw the spiers of the cathedral from a distance while we were still on the road, I felt so relieved. I never expected to feel at home in Notre Dame in the short time I was here. I went to the Hotel Dieu, where thank God someone was still awake to get some ointment for Quasimodo's back. Then we struggled up the 400 steps into the tower. Jasmine went straight to sleep while I first put on Quasimodo's back. I tried to do this as gently as possible because Quasimodo winced every now and then while I rubbed him. Then I said goodbye to bed, but not without kissing him on the cheek.
