*I don't own A Monster Of Paris or is characters

Chapter 13: 54 days left continued

On one side, the stillness of the night could not wash away the run of doubt. Even wine left a bland taste on her tongue. The words or verses to describe her may be said to be romantic, however, if the faucet of tears which the burn in the corner of her left eye had a choice, if would speak in straightforward terms.

The uncharacteristic stillness of body made her feel almost dead. The moon was the most unkind company, for its beauty was unmatched, and if he were her kindly company, they would drink every drop, and it would witness the softness of his heart. However, she wondered why living was merely existing when your precious one isn't near.

Was she dead? No, she wasn't, but she still breathed, and the crying moon made it clearer that she might have made a mistake.

Two and a half hours earlier

He replaced the phone lightly, gave the order in his strictest of tones. "Go to Miss Lucille's, you have a delivery to make."

"At this hour? What does that women want now?"

"It does not matter"

"Am I missing something?"

He fixed the spectacles on the bridge of his nose, neither looking, nor explaining. "Do this, and I will allow you to glance at my new experiment"

"Sir, I'm trying not strain our relationship. Are you sure you heard it correctly?"

"Just do as you are told, and you will receive your reward"

A half hour later

"Lucille I came as quickly as I could. What do you need?"

"I need help with a body"

"Lucille, what did you do?"

A heart of hearts, like a metronome rebuked her before, during, and after her performance. At the time, what was there that could be said?

She inhaled, the air and her breathe at combat was another silent enemy. Raoul tried to offer a handkerchief, but are waved it away. Her voice low, "I did not kill him if that's what you're wondering."

Her glance, if Francoeur could see, would send him into a silent rage. "He's only sleeping"

His body laid there in all comfort on the Fox, no surprises, only calmness. Empty pretense in the corner of her right eye, truth hidden in every other corner, she could only say what needed to be said she then some. "Take him away," she bit her lower lip, it was all wrong, "like this he is being a nuisance to me"

"Lucille?"

With Raoul on the scene, Francoeur was placed in the back of his truck, curled comfortably in an old Fox fur, sleeping soundly. Lucille felt like a criminal, but it was for the best. "I cannot explain, but the professor will be borrowing Francoeur for a few days. So do as I say and take him" was her angry reply then.

"You don't look so pleased about it"

Bitterness ran over, and the lies kept growing. "It is like parting from one's child, it is simply unnatural"

Her stomach had a dozen butterflies, a slight pain throbbed on her forehead, it really was terrible cycle.

As a man Raoul neither understood nor inttended to be insensitive. "I hate to say this, but I know you don't think of him that way"

"It is complicated, you wouldn't understand"

"Are we like a fashion trend, changing with the season?"

"What?"

"Honestly, I'm tired of this Lucille, stop being a hypocrite and tell me what you feel? Are you with him, or do you want me?"

"I don't know what I feel. We are just so..."

"Different? Everyone's different. Are you trying to tell me you are falling in love with that bug?"

Her anger was scorching, and Raoul's cheek stung."Don't you ever say that"

The coldness in her eyes made him feel a dozen things, many he truly couldn't understand, but what he could, he felt deeply. "I'm going to be honest with you, a flea will always be a parasite, and you are trying to go against nature. I can't be like him, but I want to make you happy. Can't you wait for me?"

"I waited for over 15 years, I'm done waiting. I live for now, and this is the best year of my life, why can't you be happy for me?"

"Forget it princess, I'll have the professor handle the talking. All I'm good at is ruffling your feathers"

"I'm not finished with you"

"Well I am"

On other side, a sliver of light kissed his face through cracks of his temporary home. Strangely, the scent of familiarity welcomed him like a sweet embrace. Near his feet lay the bed of furs, and on his right a plate is finely cut steak, rare, extremely rare. He consumed it all before the second glance, and had a sudden sinking feeling like a forgotten promise.

It hit him like the chirp of crickets, the song he a supposed to write.

"Fear, like a crying in the night

Leaves me lost for a feeling, leaves a hint of fright

Bonne nuit, now and forever, a Swan song for you

None are ever born without it, it is basically a birthright.

Moreover, it is a disease, the worst kind of imperfection.

Bonne nuit, bonne nuit, bonnne nuit mon amour

I hear it in your voice, in your soft inflection

If anything, it's a tiny infection

I waved theflag every day, and even a fool could see it,

Between these empty spaces is me

Bonne nuit la amour, bonne nuit, j'adore pour mon vive

I will not mourn, for she is alive even if I feel a little dead inside

I'm halfway in the hallway of our life, next to your door, I'll say no more

I will not, I shall not, end it all.

It rains like the tears of all my wasted years

My sole companion being the moon. Bonne nuit, bonne nuit bella la lune

Hello moon, and goodnight. Let this day end, and may the sorrow go to sleep.

Bonne nuit me Belle

And if you will not confide on this wounded heart of mine, then may it continue to rain on us

all these coming of days, we go our separate ways

Bonne nuit, bonne nuit, bonne nuit"