~Okay so originally this chapter was like 17 pages longer, Hahaha, but I
think this part stands out on its own . . .and now! Lucky you! I have two
more chapters prepared, so like, they will come out faster . . .that is if
I'm not to distracted with everything else that's going on!!
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The Son of A Thief
Chapter 3.
Girl Troubles
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Anton Boudreaux yawned and opened his eyes, but instantly closed them again for protection against the harsh light. The sun was shining at full force through the windows, lighting up the bed where he was sleeping. He blinked a few times, and then, cupping a hand over his eyes, squinted them open. This time the sun was less hostile, and Anton was able to check out his surroundings. Much to his surprise, Anton wasn't in his bed, he wasn't even sure if he was still in the LeBeau Mansion. He was lying on a large comfortable bed, with a deep purple comforter. There was an antique vanity sitting across the room, expensive perfumes and other makeup items thrown around it. The room had high windows, one swung wide open to reveal a nice garden view. Anton stretched like a cat, his long legs reaching down towards the end of the bed, and rolled over.
He gasped.
Felicite Gaudet was lying across from him, her thick lashes resting serenely on her cheeks, and her usually well tamed red hair was flying loose around her face; Anton instantly realized that she was asleep. His honey colored eyes widened in fear, he was in her house, but why? Fragments of the night before flooded his memory, and Anton tried to make sense of them all. He remembered a party, and buying her a drink. He remembered driving back to her house, and coming upstairs. Her skin, so soft. She smelled like violets. Sweat. He frowned and took a quick look under the sheets, they were the only things separating the two. Anton clamped a hand over his mouth to keep from screaming. He rolled off the bed, and pulled on his pants, looking around for his watch. 9:49. For once he was thankful that he was an early riser. In less than a minute, he was outside her window, after shimmying down the vines that crawled up her walls. Anton looked up at the window once more, expecting her to pop out yelling obscenities and screeching about how he had raped her, because surely that was the only way he would ever be able to get into bed with a girl like that, but no such luck, and Anton took off running.
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Olivia stood on the train tracks, the wind from the oncoming train whipping madly at her fairy tale blonde hair. She smiled, feeling its bright lights shine on her face, her big brown eyes dancing excitedly.
"Don't worry! We'll get you out of there!" Someone yelled, she turned to see a burly firefighter, his face ridden with fear. Olivia giggled and bent down, the train was just 30ft away, picking up a small doll. 20ft . . . 10ft . . . It hit her in a rush of light, the conductor, probably to busy reading the sports section, never saw her, and drove right through her. Yes, through her would definitely be the best adjective to use, because after the train had passed, she was still there . . . smiling. Liv shimmied up the ladder, out of the subway train's pit, and handed a tiny girl her doll.
"Dit rien." She whispered, ruffling the girl's hair before taking off out of the station. Curious faces following her as she went. Her hair had turned back to its normal shade of midnight, and her eyes their crystal blue. Sure, it was wrong to mess with the humans like that, but ever girl needed at laugh sometime, and that was Olivia's guilty pleasure. Now, however, she was off schedule. She was supposed to be in NY an hour ago, but like I said, she got a little side tracked. Liv walked briskly down the street, until she came to a nearly deserted corner, aside from a bum and a stray cat. She smiled at the homeless man, and tossed him a quarter, then scooped the cat up in her arms. There was a flash of purple, and she was gone.
Exactly twenty three seconds later, she reappeared. This time, however, it was in an entirely different part of the country! Liv's eyes immediately adjusted to her surroundings . . . a closet, hmmm. Then she heard shouts, and knew she was in the right place.
"What is dis Rick? Eh?"
"I don't know what yer talkin' about Julie, just calm down."
"Calm down!? Deres two lumps in dat bed, an' one o'em ain' you! Now come out you little bitch. Show me who de hell y'are!"
Olivia winced as she heard a smash of glass, and a girl scream out in terror.
"Darla!? You?"
"Uh . . . hi Julie . . . listen I can explain."
"Explain!? I jus' found m'best friend an' ma fiancée in bed t'gether, dere, I t'ink dats explained well enough."
"Baby, calm down, its nothing . . ."
There was another smash.
"Rien? Rien!? Comment peux-tu dire une chose pareille! Rick, espèce de salaud, je ne te pardonnerai jamais! Jamais! Quand j'en aurai fini avec toi, haha, mon père est le chef de la Guilde des Voleurs, ouais! C'est ça! Les Assassins aussi! Alors tu peux prendre ta bague de merde" Olivia heard a clink of metal, "Et tu peux garder ta putain! Je n'ai pas besoin de vous, vous pouvez juste... juste... you can both just burn in hell!"
She flinched as she heard a door slam, and someone run hurriedly down the steps. Olivia waited about a minute, before she flung open the door, giving the kissing couple quite a shock.
"I'll be right out," She remarked, grabbing a few of Juliette's essentials, and heading out the door behind her.
She found the woman sitting on the steps, her head in her hands, and tears streaming down her eyes. Olivia reached out and put an arm around Juliette's shoulders, letting her cry into her chest, and slipping the scrawny street cat into her arms. Juliette wouldn't remember her when she and bebe, for that's what she will name her new feline friend, got on the train. Olivia will have totally left her mind when she finds her seat, and by the time she arrives back home to Louisiana, the woman who comforted her will be nothing but a dream. However, for know, she was there, a perfect shoulder to cry on.
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"So, if train A is going 70mph, and train B is going 80mph but left 4 hours after train A, and is on a T3 track which gets you there 3 times faster, what time will train B arrive at the same spot in which train A was at 10 minutes post departure?"
Olivier blinked his large green eyes and smiled.
"In one hour and 47minutes (I don't know if that's right! Honestly people!)" Ariel cried, tucking a piece of her sandy blonde bob behind her ear, "That wasn't so hard was it? Alright, and now this one, If Aimée and Louis are traveling through dimen-"
"Ariel, stop. I don' wanna' do dis no'more." Olivier complained, leaning back on her couch. He was studying with Ariel that Saturday morning, a promise in the hall that she made him live up to. 'Don't forget! My house tomorrow morning!' How could he forget? She only called him twice the night before, and once that morning for a wake up call. Olivier let out a sigh. "Can' we jus' watch TV o'sumthin'?"
"Olivier LeBeau, you are never going to pass Mrs. Brown's class with that attitude. Now, if Ai-alright," She sighed, smirking at his pouty expression, "I guess we could watch TV or something . . . but that's not really why you came here."
"True, but its more fun, non?" He reached for the remote, aimlessly flipping through the channels, stopping every now and then at a show he liked. They were in the living room of Ariel's house. Her family's bank account wasn't exactly modest. Mind you, it was as grand as the estate that the LeBeau's lived in, but to go to the prestigious school that Olivier and Ariel attended you needed some cash in the bank. The room was located on the first floor, and had large open windows. It connected to a mini dining room, which no one ever used. Just outside was the patio, and the pool. They had a big screen TV, and a cushy couch, which was where our pair was located, "Y'like James Dean?" Olivier asked, settling on one of his old films.
"Sure" She breathed; truthfully she was more interested in watching Olivier than the TV. She smiled, loving the way the sun shined on his features. Olivier had most of his auburn hair tucked behind his ears, but no matter what he did stray pieces kept falling into his eyes. The sunlight had picked up the flecks of gold in his eyes, and the beautiful green pools shined light emeralds, his lashes looked as if they were dipped in gold. Ariel blushed, though he probably didn't notice that she was staring, and re situated herself so that she was facing the television. About 15 minutes into the movie, Ariel opened her mouth to speak, "Olivier?"
"Yeah?" He replied in a dazed voice, not taking his eyes off the screen.
"When you said . . .'or something'" Her breath was coming quickly, as James and the heroine were locked in a passionate kiss on screen, "What did you mean?"
Olivier looked over at her, eyebrows raised, "What are y'talkin' ab-" But before he could finish his question, she pressed her lips delicately upon his. It was a quick kiss, perhaps the way your aunt would kiss you after she's had a bit to much to drink, but to Ariel . . . it meant something; especially since Olivier was involved. She pulled away, and Olivier was still frozen in place.
"Olivier?"
He scrunched up his eyebrows, and looked over at her sadly. She was a sweet kid, and what she did probably took a lot of guts . . . but you can't force someone to like you.
"Ah'm sorry Ariel, but I oughta' go."
So he did what any boy in his position would do . . . he ran.
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"Anton? Its Fey . . . call m'back alright? -click-" Anton sighed, and pressed delete. It was the third time she had called, and that certainly wasn't Felicite Gaudet's style.
"Girl troubles, homme?" Anton jumped in his chair, his eyes growing wide with fear, but thankfully it was only Didier, "Din' mean t'scare ye'h."
"What y'talkin' 'bout Didier?"
Didier smirked, and pushed open the tab of his beer, "I kno' man . . ."
"Kno' what!?"
"Dat de only t'ing dat could be causin' y'dis much trouble, is a fille." Anton smiled, and relaxed against the couch, pushing his hair off of his forehead.
"Damn bitches drive me insane."
"Oh, so dats why I never see y'wit any."
"Fuck you," He grumbled, glaring at his giggling friend, "I don' wanna talk about it anyway."
"Comeon, who y'gonna tell 'sides me?" Didier snorted and took another swig (is this kid ALWAYS drinking?) "Olly? He left dis mornin' t'study."
The blonde boy burst out laughing, "Olly? Study? Is it even legal t'put dose two words in a sentence t'gether?" They both laughed for a while, swapping jokes on Olivier's lame study habits, until suddenly, Anton's expression became solemn, "Sometthin's wrong."
"Wit Olivier?"
"Non, wit Remy."
"What d'ye'h mean?"
Anton shook his head, "I was talkin' t'my maman last night, she's pregnant, an' Remy . . . she said he din' take it dat well, he wasn' dat excited or anyt'in T'inks deres somethin' he's not tellin' us."
"Non, Remy would tell us if somethin' was up . . . he's our leader, he owes us dat. 'sides, don' y't'ink he would tell Olivier?"
"I don' kno' . . . Remy's not de best leader in de world, keeps to much to himself," He gritted his teeth, "I don' want him t'hurt ma mere like he did t'de rest of his family. Can't b'lieve I'm talkin' t'ye'h 'bout dis Didier . . .heh, an' dat y'actually understand it."
Didier frowned, but thought it better not to say anything. Anton was just like that. He could be happy one minute, kind and calm, but the next . . . the next he could be a real ass.
"Whatever . . ." Didier rose to his feet, not really in the mood to hang out with Anton without Olivier, "I'm gonna go hang out wit Anne."
"Fun" Anton snorted.
Didier paused at the door, his hands balling up into fists, but just then, the phone rang. Anton leapt for it, and fumbled it in his shaking hands, bringing it up to his ear, and then, in an alarmingly deep voice, he whispered, "Hello?"
"Anton?" Came his mother's annoyed voice, "Sweetie what are you doing? Put Remy on."
Didier laughed all the way down the hall.
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Olivier checked his watch again, it was ten after four, and she still wasn't there. He sighed, his leg bouncing up and down under the table as he finished off another drink. It was like Olivier to wait, but something about that girl made him want to stay. Maybe it was the instinct of a thief, or maybe it was the natural curiosity of man, but whatever it was . . . she fascinated him. He was standing outside Mario's, a shanty little place that basically disappeared into the urban streets. That and it was in the poorer district, and he only went there when he was to drunk to think about it.
"Monsieur LeBeau," A voice rang out from behind him, and Olivier jumped, turning to see who it was, "You came."
He smiled, running a hand through his hair, and cocking his head to the side, "Of course ah came. De question is, what are ye'h gon' t'do wit me now dat y'got m'here?"
She smiled. At least he hoped it was a smile, it resembled more of a twitch as the result of raising one of her dark blonde brows. She was beautiful, with long blonde hair tied tight up on the top of her head. Her eyes were an icy blue, and her nose ran in a perfectly straight line, sitting thin atop her pale features. She had lovely cheekbones, and a fit body, though she only grazed his chin at 5'6. Olivier smiled again.
"Enchante, I'm Olivier LeBeau."
"I know who you are," She said coolly, her intimidating eyes never leaving his, "So lets skip the pleasantries. Get down to business."
Olivier raised an eyebrow, "Business? Y'din' even tell me'h y'na-- ."
"Prudence," She interrupted, extending her hand, "Prudence Dylan." He glanced down, looking at three noticeably white spots above her knuckles, but took it anyway, kissing the top just as he had been taught. She blushed, smirking as she roughly pulled her hand away, and sat down across from him.
"Prue."
"Prudence," She said a little more firmly, narrowing her eyes. Olivier smiled.
"Alright Prue, what's up?" He asked, eyebrows raised and his lips turned up into a cocky grin, "What kind o'business we talkin' bout here?"
"I am a part of an organization, to put it simply, for the gifted."
Olivier frowned, "De gifted? Dis ain't one o'dose school t'ings is it?"
"No."
"Den it's a cult?"
"No," Prue said slowly, obviously annoyed, "It's a different type of gift. I fought you the other day, if you recall, and your skills were tremendous."
Olivier grinned, "I work out," He said under his breath, enough to get another eyebrow raised.
"You had impeccable speed, and your agility was breathtaking. It baffled me," Prue narrowed her eyes, "The way you moved was almost un-human."
"Well chere, I'm all man if dats what you mean," He was bored, and needed a drink. Olivier turned, signaling the stoned looking woman who had served him before, but when he turned around, there was a full drink sitting in front of him. Olivier frowned, glancing down at the glass, confused; he let his eyes travel back up to Prue. She smiled at him.
"Can you really say that? Olivier? That you are all man."
He raised his eyebrows, "What's dat supposed to mean."
"It wasn't your persistence in the gym that gave you the ability to do the things you do."
"Non?"
Prue shook her head.
"Non."
He smiled at her, sipping the beer, "Den would y'mind tellin' me what it was?" She nodded, and slowly brought her hand up from beneath the table. Olivier blinked his eyes, staring confused at the glass levitating in mid air.
"Wha-wha-?" He sputtered, looking up at her with wide eyes. Olivier smiled, "What's dat?"
"That," She said calmly, lowering it down to the table, "That is your future . . . You up for it?"
He looked at her intently, green eyes dancing, and slowly nodded his head.
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Remy stared at the pamphlet in his hands. It was crinkled, with a large rip in the corner. The faded picture portrayed a balding man sitting with several children around him. He frowned, his shoulders slumping.
XAVIER'S INSTITUTE FOR GIFTED CHILDREN
Was printed in faded gold letters on the top. The number was still visable . . .but he had received that pamphlet 10yrs earlier, and he doubted it was still working. He sighed, jumping slightly as he heard someone enter the room.
"Hey Remy, what ye'h doin'?" He relaxed, turning around and giving his brother a small smile. Henri walked over to the couch, his dull blonde hair cut short to go with the times. His brown eyes no longer held the sparkle they once had, and wrinkles etched lines in his face frown where his smile once was.
"Nothin', jus' lookin' at dis," Remy said with a sigh, tossing the pamphlet on the table. Henri picked it up, raising his eyebrows.
"Xavier's institute fo'gifted youngsters?" He chuckled lightly, "Y'sendin' Julien here? Hope t'straighten him out?"
Remy shook his head, looking down at his hands, "Non, Olivier."
Henri's face fell, "Y'sendin' Olivier away?"
"I'm not sendin' anybody anywhere, Henri, nothin's final. I was jus' lookin' at it," He narrowed his eyes, snatching the paper away. Henri scowled at his brother, sitting down next to him.
"Where did y'get dat, Remy?"
"Stop talkin' t'me like I'm a little kid," He said angrily, "I'm de leader of dis guild now, an' I got a family. I'm done bein' talked to like dat," He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face, "I got it when I went lookin' fo'Marie."
Henri sighed, and leaned back against the couch. Remy didn't talk about Marie much, but when he did . . . well, it wasn't good.
"N'why did y'get it back out?"
He narrowed his eyes, glaring at the paper in his hands, "Because Olivier is outta control, an' dis place . . . dis place ain' good f'him, Henri."
"We grew up here din' we? An' we turned out fine," Henri argued, "Remy y'can' keep doubtin' y'self, ye'h a good father, whether y'see it o' not . . . y'are."
"Non," Remy shook his head, "His maman . . ."
"Marie knew what she was gettin' into when she met ye'h. Belle's y'wi-DING- DONG!" Remy shot out of his seat, he didn't want his brother to finish that sentence. Instead he ran for the door, cutting off the butler and swinging it open. He didn't care who it was, he was just thankful that he or she had gotten him out of that conversation.
"Papa!" His eyes widened . . . maybe opening the door wasn't the best idea.
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~well, I wanted to give you more than that . . . but hell! I finished it! :D
REVIEW COMMENTS -----------------------------
one general one . . . SORRY I TOOK SO LONG!!!!
Caliente~
A family tree? Hehe, well, Olivier has 3 siblings, which means Remy has 4 kids . . . okay, lets straighten this out for ya'h . . .
Remy married mystery woman (surprise!) and had Mattieu (Who is in college in Maine) and Juliette (Who you met in this chapter). They divorced, and Julie and Matt's mom lives somewhere else. She and Remy are still on good terms. Then he met Marie, and fell in love with her . . . now I can't give away to much about their relationship, but as you can tell, they had one kid . . . Olivier, the boy with the brilliant green eyes and the star of our story. What happened to Marie is still a secret. When Olivier was 4, he and Remy moved back down with the thieves. There, Remy became more immersed in the guild. When Olivier was 6 (Juliette was 11, Mattieu, 13, and living with their mother for the most part) Remy married Belladonna, and Anton made his way into the family, he is the same age as Olivier and the son of Belladonna and a still unnamed man. Didier is the result of an affair between two guild members, his parents are divorced and his mother lives in Spain. When Olivier and Anton turned eleven (Juliette, 16, and Mattieu, 18) Belladonna and Remy had their first child together, Julien (Who you met in chapter two). Julien is 11yrs younger than Olivier. Now, Julien is 6, and Belladonna is pregnant again. So did you get all that? Mattieu (24) Juliette (22) Olivier (17) and Julien (6). Hehe, oh yeah, Anne is Mercy and Henri's eldest daughter. Got all that? No? ahh well, hehe, eventually it will make sense. AND YES, Remy has been a busy boy! Hehehe
MzJenna~
Interesting indeed . . . hehe, I'm having fun! And don't worry, Rogue will come in . . . and I hate Belle too, so hehe, I'm bound to figure out a way to get rid of her!!
XxFleurdelysxx~
*spews her drink everywhere*
*coughing
*choking*
*gasping for breath*
WHAT!? Fleur, fleur, fleur, fleur, fleur, don't you realize who Anton is!? That's Apollo! And for so long now you have absolutely hated the kind sweet tragic handsome good guy Apollo . . . but you like . . . ANTON?!? Hahaha! I don't understand! He's an ass, chauvinistic pig, mama's boy, geek . . . but you love him . . . ahh well, I do to. AND OF COURSE ROGUE WILL BE IN THIS, don't you know me at all? I can't separate Romy for that long!!! That girl at the end, by the way, hehe, I have to recover from the Anton shock, is Felicite Gaudet, Olivier's ex girlfriend . . . she's a firecracker, haha, think Pyralis (: D)
--------------------------------- WHAT!? You are all addicted to TORN! Hahaha! Keep reading SOAT!!!!!
-Foo
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The Son of A Thief
Chapter 3.
Girl Troubles
-----------------------------------
Anton Boudreaux yawned and opened his eyes, but instantly closed them again for protection against the harsh light. The sun was shining at full force through the windows, lighting up the bed where he was sleeping. He blinked a few times, and then, cupping a hand over his eyes, squinted them open. This time the sun was less hostile, and Anton was able to check out his surroundings. Much to his surprise, Anton wasn't in his bed, he wasn't even sure if he was still in the LeBeau Mansion. He was lying on a large comfortable bed, with a deep purple comforter. There was an antique vanity sitting across the room, expensive perfumes and other makeup items thrown around it. The room had high windows, one swung wide open to reveal a nice garden view. Anton stretched like a cat, his long legs reaching down towards the end of the bed, and rolled over.
He gasped.
Felicite Gaudet was lying across from him, her thick lashes resting serenely on her cheeks, and her usually well tamed red hair was flying loose around her face; Anton instantly realized that she was asleep. His honey colored eyes widened in fear, he was in her house, but why? Fragments of the night before flooded his memory, and Anton tried to make sense of them all. He remembered a party, and buying her a drink. He remembered driving back to her house, and coming upstairs. Her skin, so soft. She smelled like violets. Sweat. He frowned and took a quick look under the sheets, they were the only things separating the two. Anton clamped a hand over his mouth to keep from screaming. He rolled off the bed, and pulled on his pants, looking around for his watch. 9:49. For once he was thankful that he was an early riser. In less than a minute, he was outside her window, after shimmying down the vines that crawled up her walls. Anton looked up at the window once more, expecting her to pop out yelling obscenities and screeching about how he had raped her, because surely that was the only way he would ever be able to get into bed with a girl like that, but no such luck, and Anton took off running.
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Olivia stood on the train tracks, the wind from the oncoming train whipping madly at her fairy tale blonde hair. She smiled, feeling its bright lights shine on her face, her big brown eyes dancing excitedly.
"Don't worry! We'll get you out of there!" Someone yelled, she turned to see a burly firefighter, his face ridden with fear. Olivia giggled and bent down, the train was just 30ft away, picking up a small doll. 20ft . . . 10ft . . . It hit her in a rush of light, the conductor, probably to busy reading the sports section, never saw her, and drove right through her. Yes, through her would definitely be the best adjective to use, because after the train had passed, she was still there . . . smiling. Liv shimmied up the ladder, out of the subway train's pit, and handed a tiny girl her doll.
"Dit rien." She whispered, ruffling the girl's hair before taking off out of the station. Curious faces following her as she went. Her hair had turned back to its normal shade of midnight, and her eyes their crystal blue. Sure, it was wrong to mess with the humans like that, but ever girl needed at laugh sometime, and that was Olivia's guilty pleasure. Now, however, she was off schedule. She was supposed to be in NY an hour ago, but like I said, she got a little side tracked. Liv walked briskly down the street, until she came to a nearly deserted corner, aside from a bum and a stray cat. She smiled at the homeless man, and tossed him a quarter, then scooped the cat up in her arms. There was a flash of purple, and she was gone.
Exactly twenty three seconds later, she reappeared. This time, however, it was in an entirely different part of the country! Liv's eyes immediately adjusted to her surroundings . . . a closet, hmmm. Then she heard shouts, and knew she was in the right place.
"What is dis Rick? Eh?"
"I don't know what yer talkin' about Julie, just calm down."
"Calm down!? Deres two lumps in dat bed, an' one o'em ain' you! Now come out you little bitch. Show me who de hell y'are!"
Olivia winced as she heard a smash of glass, and a girl scream out in terror.
"Darla!? You?"
"Uh . . . hi Julie . . . listen I can explain."
"Explain!? I jus' found m'best friend an' ma fiancée in bed t'gether, dere, I t'ink dats explained well enough."
"Baby, calm down, its nothing . . ."
There was another smash.
"Rien? Rien!? Comment peux-tu dire une chose pareille! Rick, espèce de salaud, je ne te pardonnerai jamais! Jamais! Quand j'en aurai fini avec toi, haha, mon père est le chef de la Guilde des Voleurs, ouais! C'est ça! Les Assassins aussi! Alors tu peux prendre ta bague de merde" Olivia heard a clink of metal, "Et tu peux garder ta putain! Je n'ai pas besoin de vous, vous pouvez juste... juste... you can both just burn in hell!"
She flinched as she heard a door slam, and someone run hurriedly down the steps. Olivia waited about a minute, before she flung open the door, giving the kissing couple quite a shock.
"I'll be right out," She remarked, grabbing a few of Juliette's essentials, and heading out the door behind her.
She found the woman sitting on the steps, her head in her hands, and tears streaming down her eyes. Olivia reached out and put an arm around Juliette's shoulders, letting her cry into her chest, and slipping the scrawny street cat into her arms. Juliette wouldn't remember her when she and bebe, for that's what she will name her new feline friend, got on the train. Olivia will have totally left her mind when she finds her seat, and by the time she arrives back home to Louisiana, the woman who comforted her will be nothing but a dream. However, for know, she was there, a perfect shoulder to cry on.
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"So, if train A is going 70mph, and train B is going 80mph but left 4 hours after train A, and is on a T3 track which gets you there 3 times faster, what time will train B arrive at the same spot in which train A was at 10 minutes post departure?"
Olivier blinked his large green eyes and smiled.
"In one hour and 47minutes (I don't know if that's right! Honestly people!)" Ariel cried, tucking a piece of her sandy blonde bob behind her ear, "That wasn't so hard was it? Alright, and now this one, If Aimée and Louis are traveling through dimen-"
"Ariel, stop. I don' wanna' do dis no'more." Olivier complained, leaning back on her couch. He was studying with Ariel that Saturday morning, a promise in the hall that she made him live up to. 'Don't forget! My house tomorrow morning!' How could he forget? She only called him twice the night before, and once that morning for a wake up call. Olivier let out a sigh. "Can' we jus' watch TV o'sumthin'?"
"Olivier LeBeau, you are never going to pass Mrs. Brown's class with that attitude. Now, if Ai-alright," She sighed, smirking at his pouty expression, "I guess we could watch TV or something . . . but that's not really why you came here."
"True, but its more fun, non?" He reached for the remote, aimlessly flipping through the channels, stopping every now and then at a show he liked. They were in the living room of Ariel's house. Her family's bank account wasn't exactly modest. Mind you, it was as grand as the estate that the LeBeau's lived in, but to go to the prestigious school that Olivier and Ariel attended you needed some cash in the bank. The room was located on the first floor, and had large open windows. It connected to a mini dining room, which no one ever used. Just outside was the patio, and the pool. They had a big screen TV, and a cushy couch, which was where our pair was located, "Y'like James Dean?" Olivier asked, settling on one of his old films.
"Sure" She breathed; truthfully she was more interested in watching Olivier than the TV. She smiled, loving the way the sun shined on his features. Olivier had most of his auburn hair tucked behind his ears, but no matter what he did stray pieces kept falling into his eyes. The sunlight had picked up the flecks of gold in his eyes, and the beautiful green pools shined light emeralds, his lashes looked as if they were dipped in gold. Ariel blushed, though he probably didn't notice that she was staring, and re situated herself so that she was facing the television. About 15 minutes into the movie, Ariel opened her mouth to speak, "Olivier?"
"Yeah?" He replied in a dazed voice, not taking his eyes off the screen.
"When you said . . .'or something'" Her breath was coming quickly, as James and the heroine were locked in a passionate kiss on screen, "What did you mean?"
Olivier looked over at her, eyebrows raised, "What are y'talkin' ab-" But before he could finish his question, she pressed her lips delicately upon his. It was a quick kiss, perhaps the way your aunt would kiss you after she's had a bit to much to drink, but to Ariel . . . it meant something; especially since Olivier was involved. She pulled away, and Olivier was still frozen in place.
"Olivier?"
He scrunched up his eyebrows, and looked over at her sadly. She was a sweet kid, and what she did probably took a lot of guts . . . but you can't force someone to like you.
"Ah'm sorry Ariel, but I oughta' go."
So he did what any boy in his position would do . . . he ran.
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"Anton? Its Fey . . . call m'back alright? -click-" Anton sighed, and pressed delete. It was the third time she had called, and that certainly wasn't Felicite Gaudet's style.
"Girl troubles, homme?" Anton jumped in his chair, his eyes growing wide with fear, but thankfully it was only Didier, "Din' mean t'scare ye'h."
"What y'talkin' 'bout Didier?"
Didier smirked, and pushed open the tab of his beer, "I kno' man . . ."
"Kno' what!?"
"Dat de only t'ing dat could be causin' y'dis much trouble, is a fille." Anton smiled, and relaxed against the couch, pushing his hair off of his forehead.
"Damn bitches drive me insane."
"Oh, so dats why I never see y'wit any."
"Fuck you," He grumbled, glaring at his giggling friend, "I don' wanna talk about it anyway."
"Comeon, who y'gonna tell 'sides me?" Didier snorted and took another swig (is this kid ALWAYS drinking?) "Olly? He left dis mornin' t'study."
The blonde boy burst out laughing, "Olly? Study? Is it even legal t'put dose two words in a sentence t'gether?" They both laughed for a while, swapping jokes on Olivier's lame study habits, until suddenly, Anton's expression became solemn, "Sometthin's wrong."
"Wit Olivier?"
"Non, wit Remy."
"What d'ye'h mean?"
Anton shook his head, "I was talkin' t'my maman last night, she's pregnant, an' Remy . . . she said he din' take it dat well, he wasn' dat excited or anyt'in T'inks deres somethin' he's not tellin' us."
"Non, Remy would tell us if somethin' was up . . . he's our leader, he owes us dat. 'sides, don' y't'ink he would tell Olivier?"
"I don' kno' . . . Remy's not de best leader in de world, keeps to much to himself," He gritted his teeth, "I don' want him t'hurt ma mere like he did t'de rest of his family. Can't b'lieve I'm talkin' t'ye'h 'bout dis Didier . . .heh, an' dat y'actually understand it."
Didier frowned, but thought it better not to say anything. Anton was just like that. He could be happy one minute, kind and calm, but the next . . . the next he could be a real ass.
"Whatever . . ." Didier rose to his feet, not really in the mood to hang out with Anton without Olivier, "I'm gonna go hang out wit Anne."
"Fun" Anton snorted.
Didier paused at the door, his hands balling up into fists, but just then, the phone rang. Anton leapt for it, and fumbled it in his shaking hands, bringing it up to his ear, and then, in an alarmingly deep voice, he whispered, "Hello?"
"Anton?" Came his mother's annoyed voice, "Sweetie what are you doing? Put Remy on."
Didier laughed all the way down the hall.
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Olivier checked his watch again, it was ten after four, and she still wasn't there. He sighed, his leg bouncing up and down under the table as he finished off another drink. It was like Olivier to wait, but something about that girl made him want to stay. Maybe it was the instinct of a thief, or maybe it was the natural curiosity of man, but whatever it was . . . she fascinated him. He was standing outside Mario's, a shanty little place that basically disappeared into the urban streets. That and it was in the poorer district, and he only went there when he was to drunk to think about it.
"Monsieur LeBeau," A voice rang out from behind him, and Olivier jumped, turning to see who it was, "You came."
He smiled, running a hand through his hair, and cocking his head to the side, "Of course ah came. De question is, what are ye'h gon' t'do wit me now dat y'got m'here?"
She smiled. At least he hoped it was a smile, it resembled more of a twitch as the result of raising one of her dark blonde brows. She was beautiful, with long blonde hair tied tight up on the top of her head. Her eyes were an icy blue, and her nose ran in a perfectly straight line, sitting thin atop her pale features. She had lovely cheekbones, and a fit body, though she only grazed his chin at 5'6. Olivier smiled again.
"Enchante, I'm Olivier LeBeau."
"I know who you are," She said coolly, her intimidating eyes never leaving his, "So lets skip the pleasantries. Get down to business."
Olivier raised an eyebrow, "Business? Y'din' even tell me'h y'na-- ."
"Prudence," She interrupted, extending her hand, "Prudence Dylan." He glanced down, looking at three noticeably white spots above her knuckles, but took it anyway, kissing the top just as he had been taught. She blushed, smirking as she roughly pulled her hand away, and sat down across from him.
"Prue."
"Prudence," She said a little more firmly, narrowing her eyes. Olivier smiled.
"Alright Prue, what's up?" He asked, eyebrows raised and his lips turned up into a cocky grin, "What kind o'business we talkin' bout here?"
"I am a part of an organization, to put it simply, for the gifted."
Olivier frowned, "De gifted? Dis ain't one o'dose school t'ings is it?"
"No."
"Den it's a cult?"
"No," Prue said slowly, obviously annoyed, "It's a different type of gift. I fought you the other day, if you recall, and your skills were tremendous."
Olivier grinned, "I work out," He said under his breath, enough to get another eyebrow raised.
"You had impeccable speed, and your agility was breathtaking. It baffled me," Prue narrowed her eyes, "The way you moved was almost un-human."
"Well chere, I'm all man if dats what you mean," He was bored, and needed a drink. Olivier turned, signaling the stoned looking woman who had served him before, but when he turned around, there was a full drink sitting in front of him. Olivier frowned, glancing down at the glass, confused; he let his eyes travel back up to Prue. She smiled at him.
"Can you really say that? Olivier? That you are all man."
He raised his eyebrows, "What's dat supposed to mean."
"It wasn't your persistence in the gym that gave you the ability to do the things you do."
"Non?"
Prue shook her head.
"Non."
He smiled at her, sipping the beer, "Den would y'mind tellin' me what it was?" She nodded, and slowly brought her hand up from beneath the table. Olivier blinked his eyes, staring confused at the glass levitating in mid air.
"Wha-wha-?" He sputtered, looking up at her with wide eyes. Olivier smiled, "What's dat?"
"That," She said calmly, lowering it down to the table, "That is your future . . . You up for it?"
He looked at her intently, green eyes dancing, and slowly nodded his head.
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Remy stared at the pamphlet in his hands. It was crinkled, with a large rip in the corner. The faded picture portrayed a balding man sitting with several children around him. He frowned, his shoulders slumping.
XAVIER'S INSTITUTE FOR GIFTED CHILDREN
Was printed in faded gold letters on the top. The number was still visable . . .but he had received that pamphlet 10yrs earlier, and he doubted it was still working. He sighed, jumping slightly as he heard someone enter the room.
"Hey Remy, what ye'h doin'?" He relaxed, turning around and giving his brother a small smile. Henri walked over to the couch, his dull blonde hair cut short to go with the times. His brown eyes no longer held the sparkle they once had, and wrinkles etched lines in his face frown where his smile once was.
"Nothin', jus' lookin' at dis," Remy said with a sigh, tossing the pamphlet on the table. Henri picked it up, raising his eyebrows.
"Xavier's institute fo'gifted youngsters?" He chuckled lightly, "Y'sendin' Julien here? Hope t'straighten him out?"
Remy shook his head, looking down at his hands, "Non, Olivier."
Henri's face fell, "Y'sendin' Olivier away?"
"I'm not sendin' anybody anywhere, Henri, nothin's final. I was jus' lookin' at it," He narrowed his eyes, snatching the paper away. Henri scowled at his brother, sitting down next to him.
"Where did y'get dat, Remy?"
"Stop talkin' t'me like I'm a little kid," He said angrily, "I'm de leader of dis guild now, an' I got a family. I'm done bein' talked to like dat," He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face, "I got it when I went lookin' fo'Marie."
Henri sighed, and leaned back against the couch. Remy didn't talk about Marie much, but when he did . . . well, it wasn't good.
"N'why did y'get it back out?"
He narrowed his eyes, glaring at the paper in his hands, "Because Olivier is outta control, an' dis place . . . dis place ain' good f'him, Henri."
"We grew up here din' we? An' we turned out fine," Henri argued, "Remy y'can' keep doubtin' y'self, ye'h a good father, whether y'see it o' not . . . y'are."
"Non," Remy shook his head, "His maman . . ."
"Marie knew what she was gettin' into when she met ye'h. Belle's y'wi-DING- DONG!" Remy shot out of his seat, he didn't want his brother to finish that sentence. Instead he ran for the door, cutting off the butler and swinging it open. He didn't care who it was, he was just thankful that he or she had gotten him out of that conversation.
"Papa!" His eyes widened . . . maybe opening the door wasn't the best idea.
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~well, I wanted to give you more than that . . . but hell! I finished it! :D
REVIEW COMMENTS -----------------------------
one general one . . . SORRY I TOOK SO LONG!!!!
Caliente~
A family tree? Hehe, well, Olivier has 3 siblings, which means Remy has 4 kids . . . okay, lets straighten this out for ya'h . . .
Remy married mystery woman (surprise!) and had Mattieu (Who is in college in Maine) and Juliette (Who you met in this chapter). They divorced, and Julie and Matt's mom lives somewhere else. She and Remy are still on good terms. Then he met Marie, and fell in love with her . . . now I can't give away to much about their relationship, but as you can tell, they had one kid . . . Olivier, the boy with the brilliant green eyes and the star of our story. What happened to Marie is still a secret. When Olivier was 4, he and Remy moved back down with the thieves. There, Remy became more immersed in the guild. When Olivier was 6 (Juliette was 11, Mattieu, 13, and living with their mother for the most part) Remy married Belladonna, and Anton made his way into the family, he is the same age as Olivier and the son of Belladonna and a still unnamed man. Didier is the result of an affair between two guild members, his parents are divorced and his mother lives in Spain. When Olivier and Anton turned eleven (Juliette, 16, and Mattieu, 18) Belladonna and Remy had their first child together, Julien (Who you met in chapter two). Julien is 11yrs younger than Olivier. Now, Julien is 6, and Belladonna is pregnant again. So did you get all that? Mattieu (24) Juliette (22) Olivier (17) and Julien (6). Hehe, oh yeah, Anne is Mercy and Henri's eldest daughter. Got all that? No? ahh well, hehe, eventually it will make sense. AND YES, Remy has been a busy boy! Hehehe
MzJenna~
Interesting indeed . . . hehe, I'm having fun! And don't worry, Rogue will come in . . . and I hate Belle too, so hehe, I'm bound to figure out a way to get rid of her!!
XxFleurdelysxx~
*spews her drink everywhere*
*coughing
*choking*
*gasping for breath*
WHAT!? Fleur, fleur, fleur, fleur, fleur, don't you realize who Anton is!? That's Apollo! And for so long now you have absolutely hated the kind sweet tragic handsome good guy Apollo . . . but you like . . . ANTON?!? Hahaha! I don't understand! He's an ass, chauvinistic pig, mama's boy, geek . . . but you love him . . . ahh well, I do to. AND OF COURSE ROGUE WILL BE IN THIS, don't you know me at all? I can't separate Romy for that long!!! That girl at the end, by the way, hehe, I have to recover from the Anton shock, is Felicite Gaudet, Olivier's ex girlfriend . . . she's a firecracker, haha, think Pyralis (: D)
--------------------------------- WHAT!? You are all addicted to TORN! Hahaha! Keep reading SOAT!!!!!
-Foo