The next morning, I woke up groggy, still wearing the bra I had on from last night. It was cold, my feet were cold; a waft of coffee and French breakfast foods permeated the walls. I went into the bathroom to wash my face—a map of imprints from my comforter was stamped on my cheek. I undressed myself and grabbed my robe to meet what was in the kitchen; Henry sat on the couch with a plate of crêpes and strawberries. The television was tuned to the Today show. He looked at me, with a confused expression.
"I like your friend." he said, his mouth was full. Lo and behold, Francis, couch and rose man, stood in the kitchen making batches of crêpes and coffee.
"Ah, it is Nicole! Ma cherie, I wanted to sank you." Francis handed me a plate and moved a mug of coffee towards me. I nodded.
"Are you feeling alright?" I asked him.
"Oui, I am feeling okay." He smiled.
"I thought you would get your kidney stolen."
"You sink someone would steal mon kidney?"
"Yeah, it happens all the time." I sipped my coffee.
"Do you like cream?"
"Yeah, thanks," I set my plate down and sat at the high counter. "So, what are you doing in New York? Are you new?"
"For zhe time being. I am a diplomat, of sorts. I am 'ere for zhe United Nations, oui?" I nodded.
"It sounds like fun."
"Thank you for the rose." He gave me a gracious smile.
"What do you do for a living?" He took a break from the counter and leaned on the island.
"She doesn't have a real job." Henry interrupted.
"I just perform at bars," I said. "It pays well enough."
"I ee-magine." He kept giving me these genuine, kind smiles that made me feel warm inside. I took a bite of the crêpes, garnished with a strawberry.
"Mm! These are delicious!"
"I am glad." he brushed my hair behind my ear. I blushed, warmly, again.
"They're my favorite." I said.
"As zhey are mine." his voice was soft, and flowed nicely with the words he spoke. "I must go. I 'ave a meeting at nine." He looked at the clock, and grabbed his phone. He approached me, and gave me two wet kisses on my cheeks, with one of his hands grabbing one of my breasts and the other hand resting on the slope of my back. "Sank you, again." I looked at my hand to see his number still legible, and I debated on whether or not I should call him later. The door followed Francis on his way out.
"I didn't know you had a boyfriend." Henry walked over to the dishwasher with his plate in his hand.
"I don't."
"Then who was that? Your cousin?" He gave me a side eye.
"No, I just helped him after he got way drunk. It's nothing."
"He seems like a nice guy. Very affectionate."
"You're not wrong," I tightened the belt on my robe.
I'll take a shower, then." I walked into my bedroom, threw my robe on my bed, and took a towel before walking into the bathroom. In the mirror, I was met a rats' nest of hair barely held together with hairspray, and a few trashy tattoos I've collected since I was eighteen. I opened the window only barely, to let in fresh air. I turned on the shower. For a moment, I sat on the toilet, peeing—I rubbed the earth I had tattooed on my ankle. The color was still vibrant with its two months.
"You takin' a shower, baby?" A neighbor from the building over opened his windows and called over to me. Steam was coming out of the window. Embarrassed that I forgot, I shut my blinds. When I got in the shower, the water burned my feet. I watched as it pooled spinning into the drain. I held my breath.
(A/N: I just had to mention that this chapter, without this note, has exactly 666 words. That is all)