Written by "noimnotgoingwithoutyou" on tumblr.
"I'll just have the chocolate brioche and a Viennese coffee thank you," Lizzie smiled up at the dark haired waiter, silently thanking him for giving her a detailed explanation of her menu.
Surely the cafe would include English ones by now right?
She heaved a sigh. Red had insisted she visit the "Cafe De Flore" for breakfast. She wasn't too keen on travelling across the crowded city to have one simple meal, but she wasn't too keen about arguing with him either, so she just threw on fresh clothes, tamed her messy locks and got in the already waiting car. He could have at least told her what to order, knowing that the menu was in french and she couldn't even utter a proper "good morning" in the language, much less for reading and understanding an entire 3 pages of it. But she had to admit (and it had nothing to do with him basically throwing her into the car) that it was pretty cozy.
Leaning back, she folded her arms around herself and closed her eyes. She hasn't felt this relaxed in a while. Its been too long.
The sun was especially warm this morning, and it all but made her want to lose herself in it's radiance, escaping the world of troubles by a ray of light. The streets were bustling with the long lines of traffic and tourists touring the sites; it was noisy, yet oddly comforting.
She gazed across the avenue, noticing a scanty hut on the corner selling postcards. She instantly thought of buying a few and mailing them to her friends, maybe relate to them her adventures in the city of love, but she expelled those thoughts as soon as they were formed into her head.
She had no friends.
That thought made her physically shudder; When did she ever get this lonely?
She was -thankfully- drifted out of her distasteful introspection by a sweet smelling aroma, wafting through the air and into her nostrils, causing her mouth to water just a bit. Twisting her head, she only then noticed her breakfast already sitting on the table, staring back at her with all its delicious glory.
Immediately she dug into it, savouring every taste and god, this was the best thing she's ever put into her mouth.
"This seat taken?" a deep, familiar, very familiar voice interrupted her revere.
She quickly glanced at the tall figure, taking a mental note of the meager frown on his pale face and his scrunched eyebrows; muscles drew the skin around his eyes tight. Someone had trouble sleeping last night.
She just shook her head as he settled into the wooden chair opposite hers.
"What are you doing here, Ressler?" she asked. It can't be a coincidence that he showed up for breakfast in the exact same cafe that she was situated at.
"Red told me where I can find you." Definitely not a coincidence.
Her eyebrows raised at that. "You were looking for me?"
After their minor debacle two nights ago, they haven't even spared a glance at each other. From an outsider, it would look as if they're just a couple of normal friends, maybe more, having breakfast in a Parisian Cafe. But oh it was different, so different from that illusion. Put the two of them together in a room, much like right now, and you can cut the tension with a knife, it was that bad.
He's angry with her, she knows that much. Like he blatantly stated that night, she was the reason the task force shut down, that the most important part of their lives ended, the only important part of his life ended.
She avoided his gaze, busying herself with the pastry on her plate.
"I was" he simply stated, eyes not leaving her face. She didn't have to look up to know he was staring at her with those piercing hazel eyes.
She shifted uncomfortably. Clearing her throat, she asked "Wher- Where is red?"
Her attempt at changing the topic isn't missed by him, but he goes along with it. "He uh, said something about visiting an old friend in a French bar on the other side of the city."
She looked at her watch as her eyebrows knit together. "A bar? At nine thirty in the morning?"
He shrugged. Red was definitely a strange man.
She hummed and drank her coffee silently, trying her best to make the sidewalk look seemingly interesting.
Hearing him sigh and shift closer to her from his chair, she turned towards him, observing the soft but pensive expression on his face, the way he leaned forward on the table, the way his hand come to rest an inch away from hers.
"Look Kee- Liz," he corrected himself promptly. He knew how much she hated him or anyone calling her keen anymore. They knew why.
"I just lost my job. The only thing that mattered to me anymore, you know that because you heard me say it," he swallowed as she took a deep breath, "And I've been thinking about everything…everything that's happened in the past year, especially the past month. My job and my life crumbled before me, and there was nothing I could have done about it. So I started doing the only thing my manly pride would allow me to do. I started blaming you," he paused, slightly hesitant to go on.
She tilted her head, motioning for him to continue.
"The thing is, I only thought about myself. I only thought about my pain, my hurt, my life. I directed all my anger towards you. I didn't think about what you had to deal with, what you were going through. I just assumed you were a part of it, that you were screwing us all over, and now I realize how much of a freaking asshole I probably was to you, still is.." his voice trailed off, guilt radiating out of him like smoke did in a wildfire.
She sat up a bit straighter, searching his eyes for any tell of deceit, any sign that this may as well be a joke for him.
She found none.
Her eyes swiftly travelled to the middle of the table where his large, callused hands now covered her much smaller ones. Feeling his warmth against her skin, spreading throughout her, making her tingle a bit inside.
"What I'm trying to say here Liz, is that I'm sorry, terribly sorry" his eyes pleading with her to understand, to forgive him because dammit he doesn't want to be like one of those guys in her life that hurt her, that broke her. He wants her to trust him, to share things with him.
Her jaw muscles jumped as she considered his words. She likes Ressler, she honestly does. He's simple and cares easily; he's just too goddamn difficult to understand. But he was a good friend to her, especially when her life was shredding to pieces by both the man she was supposed to trust with her life, and the man she came to trust for the past year. It wasn't much, but he was there. And even though they've not been on good terms for the past few days, she doesn't hate him.
She gently stroke his thumb and gave him a half smile.
Pushing her chair back, she pressed down some cash under her plate "Come on, I have something to show you".
His expression cooled ten degrees as he fell in line behind her retreating form.