Hello! Thank you for all the reviews, alerts, and favorites I've received! It all means a lot, really, and I love you all for them! They make my day :) Hope you enjoy the new chapter and I hope you all had a lovely Thanksgiving!
Chapter VII: The New Patron
Theresa tried to keep up with Erik as she turned corners and walked up stairs. It was amazing how he could manage in these dark hallways. Before she knew it, they were walking down the familiar hallway to the room of the Prima Donna. Their walk was in silence, neither of them had said a word to each other. Erik held onto her hand tightly as Theresa looked around her, the mice scattering on the floor and the cob webs that were spun on the old candelabras, didn't frighten her like they had done before when she was alone. She gulped, the silence was screaming at her for her to talk... say at least something to the man, but—she didn't know why—she was speechless. Almost like she was in awe of not only what just happened but of him as well.
Theresa thought for a moment, thinking of something to say before their walk would end. She felt the tension run through under her skin from being nervous. "Thank... you," she muttered to him once they were closer. Erik stopped and turned on his heel to face her. In the dark, Theresa could see the confused creases on his forehead as he furrowed his brow to her. She gulped before raising her voice for him to hear her, "Thank you for taking me back to my room, Erik. That was very kind of you."
Erik only nodded, letting go of her hand. Theresa missed the feel of his glove with her bare skin... she suddenly wondered how his hands would feel under it. He walked past her, "Well, we wouldn't have wanted another accident like tripping, would we?"
She didn't realize that his voice held a bit of mockery and sarcasm.
She replied, "No, we wouldn't have." Before she walked to the mirror that let her explore to through the labyrinth, she turned to see his shadow walking away. "Wait!" She called. Erik turned around with his cape making a slight swishing noise. Theresa froze for a moment what else did she want to say to him? There was something else...
"Will I see you again? Or... may I visit you again some time? It must be lonely down there, I mean... I could just... oh, look at me all flustered." Her voice became a whisper at the last part. Erik stared at her curiously as she shook her head with a soft smile, he could see a slight blush on her cheeks as she spoke.
"I'm sure that we may see each other in the future. But do not wonder in these tunnels alone, you could get hurt... again, or much worse." His voice was soothing to her ears, she nodded, obeying his command. "As for the visit, it is not needed, as flattering as it might sound."
"But..." Theresa felt herself walking toward him without realizing it, "I want to."
She wanted to? What woman would want to visit a monster like him? Erik didn't know what to say to her, especially since this really never happened before. She was lying, she had to be lying, because who would want to spend time with him? He barely could stand himself in his own solitude at times and Christine, the woman he loved, didn't even offer. He saw truth in her hazel eyes and they were pleading to him, in a way, to get him to believe it.
He shook his head mentally, this was getting to his head and he had to go before it goes in his head any further.
Instead of rejecting her, his mouth formulated the words, "We'll see," in response to her. Theresa frowned visibly and her shoulders slumped, clearly she wasn't happy with the answer he had given her. But she didn't need to be happy with it, it was his answer.
She didn't argue with it like she wanted to, she only nodded. It was his home, she was only offering. But 'we'll see' could mean yes, so she brought her smile that he had only seen a couple of times that night. Theresa watched him turn on his heel without a goodbye or goodnight to her, so she called for him again. She had something else to say. "Wait!" Erik's shoulders slumped as he turned to face her again. Theresa could definitely see that he was getting more infuriated with her, he obviously wanted to be left alone.
"What is it now?" He asked her calmly.
Theresa tossed a careful look behind her shoulder like she felt that there was someone behind her, but when she turned to face Erik again, she gulped. She thanked him again, cautiously, "Thank you... again"
Erik raised his eyebrow at her, his visible one. He took several steps toward her and stopped at a safe distance, she only saw the faded image of his white mask, which stood out more than anything on him. It would be horrifying for one to see at night, staring at them, especially since he had worn almost all black. But for her... she didn't find it horrifying at the slightest bit. It was... mystifying, and it fit him perfectly.
Was it strange that she felt comfort from it? Her mind was driven by fantasies in novels that it composed her mind to think like that. The man was a murderer, an arsonist, and... kidnapper from what she heard and yet she wasn't afraid of him at all.
"What for, Theresa?" He asked her curiously, he was almost afraid of the answer. He didn't remember anything else that would warrant a thank you.
She gulped and took another step toward him, she didn't want to go back to her room so she was stalling. "For the rose, it was unexpected and it smelled sweet," like the act of giving it, she refused to say it however. Actually, she couldn't get over the fact that she had actually gotten it still. It really was a surprise to her, one of the few in her life that she had actually liked. "It was just... unexpected and I would like to thank you for the pleasant surprise."
"You earned it," Erik stated to her. He couldn't help but smile, the first smile in a while it seemed, at her. He held out his hand to Theresa to lead her back to her room since she was drifting away from him. "There is no need to thank me. Now, come with me." Theresa's eyes narrowed at the hand, but she gently took it. She felt herself being led to her room again by him, but this time she was taken all the way.
"You need your rest, mademoiselle," Theresa winced at him being formal with her. She told him to call him Theresa before and only that. The Opera Ghost shouldn't have to be formal since this was his Opera House. Theresa wouldn't be formal with anyone if she was in his position. Erik helped her step down into her room where there was now only a few candles a lit, most already had gone out. Erik looked over at the wide open mirror that let her through. Then he looked back at her as she moved to unlock the door, both the top lock and the lock on the doorknob.
Erik raised his eyebrow, "Both locks?"
"Yes, both locks, to be careful." For a moment, Erik sworn that careful wasn't even in her vocabulary. The woman was obviously a clumsy thing, when she was behind him Erik had to move slowly because he felt by just holding her hand that she was wobbling where she stood. She continued, "I told you to call me Theresa, you shouldn't have to be formal all the time, Monsieur Opera Ghost. This is your Opera House after all." Her tone was mocking as she turned to face him.
For once he didn't mind the mocking tone that she had, "It is, but if I am not formal then who would listen to me?" Even when he was being polite and formal six years ago, however, none of them were at all listening to him. Fools. They would listen now, no doubt. Theresa looked up at him, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.
She nodded, appreciative, "Touché."
"Thank you." He mocked a bow of his head to her. "And I would do as the lady pleases, Theresa. Only, of course, if you call me Erik." Theresa nodded. Erik turned toward the mirror and took a step up to go back. Before he started the long way back to the labyrinth, he turned to Theresa, who was looking at him confused; her smirk had fallen. Why did she have that fall? "Now, I must leave. You need your rest, Theresa." Theresa had grown a dismayed expression on her face, but soon she nodded. But so soon? "I bid you goodnight."
"Goodnight, Erik." And just like that, Theresa watched as the Phantom... Erik, moved behind the mirror and closed its door. She stood there, seeing his faint image through it... or thinking she does. Theresa sighed, she didn't think that she could sleep now. Theresa closed her eyes before she moved to her bed, it was strange.
The memory she dreamed about gave her such a strange feeling. Her father wanted her to never forget the piano and now that she remembered that, she opened her eyes. Theresa walked over to the trunk by her bed and she dug to the bottom to see old sheets of music.
She found a room with a piano, it wasn't in the theater, thank God. It was in a practice room... she thought it was a practice room at least. Theresa laid each on her bed as she knelt before it. She actually had a lot of pieces to choose from. She hadn't mastered them all, but she mastered most. She flexed her long fingers and clasped her hands together to crack her knuckles like she was before the piano itself.
She would find one. She would definitely find that one room tonight. She then held up one and smiled softly, she didn't know why but this was her father's favorite. He played it all the time. Liebestraum by Liszt. He played if for mamma.
Theresa remembered his lips pursed as his fingers did all the work they needed to do along the keys. Her mother would always watch him with a loving smile on her face. How the harmonies clashed together, she didn't even need to look at the music. She stood up taking another piece of music also, one that she happened to like. A Time for Us, it was about Romeo and Juliet. It was just as beautiful.
Before she left the room she looked at the mirror, recognizing what she was wearing. She chuckled, smirking to herself.
"Looks like Monsieur Phantom is going to have to see me soon after all." She had left her flock downstairs. Theresa shook her head and took her robe; only placing the music down for a second as she tossed it over her shoulders. No one was going to see her. She had her robe so if anyone were to, it wasn't like she was going to be just in a chemise. She folded her robe to cover her before she left her room.
Theresa sighed, she couldn't go and play. She felt her body shut down slowly as she yawned. Maybe if she went to sleep, it would be smarter. She could always play. Theresa backed away from the door and got to her bed, gathering the music back into her small leather folder. Some pieces were of her father's that he made by ear, just remembering how each composer wanted it to sound in performance on the piano.
She opened her trunk again, placing the folder on top of her clothes. Closing it again, she looked over at the lonely rose on the table before getting up and untying the silk ribbon off of it.
Being careful to not touch the thorns, she held it and brought it over to the nightstand. She sat down on her bed and then took the ribbon to tie it around the bed post that was on the headboard.
"Stomach in, mademoiselle!" Henrietta scowled at her as she tugged the strings tightly causing Theresa to clutch her diaphragm grasping. She tried not to glare at the mirror at the woman who was putting on her costume for her. It was the downside of being a Prima Donna, for each performance, her waist had to be at least twenty inches to go up on stage. Twenty inches! She doubted that the lot of those people would at all pay attention. They didn't put as much makeup on her as they did the night before, she was thankful for that.
She couldn't take it anymore, she felt her ribs being crushed and her lungs begin to collapse. She told her, "I..." she was losing her breath now, too, "I think that is enough for now." She chuckled weakly as Henrietta only loosened her hold on the strings, but she was still holding them. "If you tug on them anymore I don't know how I would go on stage to sing tonight without any breath to have."
"But, mademoiselle," she started to protest, as Theresa turned on her heels so that Henrietta's hands would go off the back of her corset. "You're not nearly close to twenty inches yet!"
"Believe me, it's fine." Theresa insisted, stepping down from the stool for her dress to be promptly put on. "No one is going to pay mind, trust me." Her hair was manipulated into being curls and it framed her face. Last night they left her to hair hang on her shoulders, but now they pulled most of it back with pins. Henrietta loudly groaned while Theresa pretended to not notice it. She propped her arms up as the dress was put on her. She suddenly felt like a doll. Couldn't she get dressed herself?
Was this really necessary?
She pulled her own arms through the sleeves and felt the buttons on the back be pulled. The lavender dress seemed more low cut than it was the night before. Theresa stepped into the heels Henrietta laid out for her and she went to buckle them herself, but Henrietta was more than happy to just do it for her. She really needed to get used to this life. A new thing would pop up every day that she had to learn to live with.
"Mademoiselle?" She heard one of the manager's voices from behind the door. Theresa didn't know whose it belonged to. "Are you decent?" Theresa didn't answer verbally, instead she nodded over to Henrietta to open the door for them. When the door opened it revealed both of the managers. They both seemed to wear the same smiles on their faces. She sometimes had the urge to ask if the two were cousins, they could be... Firman and André, to her, seemed like almost the same person.
"Ciao," Theresa waved her hand at the two, they were both looking her up and down.
"Bonjour," Firman said with a slight bow of his head. Next to him André held a bouquet of flowers out to her. She didn't even go up on stage yet and already she was given flowers. She smiled, muttering a thank you as she took them by the stems. He explained, "We meant to give you these before we had left yesterday, but Monsieur D'Aubigne stated that you were retiring early last night."
He did? How did he know—she had forgotten that he barged in on her before she went through the mirror. Oh... maybe he wasn't as drunk since he still had somewhat of a sober mind. "They are beautiful, thank you." She took a quick smell of them, letting the sweet aroma fill her nostrils. She gave them to Henrietta to put them somewhere, anywhere. "I hope you enjoyed last night's performance. I would've talked with you two last night, but I was ushered into this room right when I was done."
Monsieur André chuckled lightly, "We understand completely. It was your debut after all. It could be a bit overwhelming what had happened last night."
"A standing ovation!" Firman mused, his elated smile still on his face as he threw his hands on either side of him. He continued, "And on your debut? Magnifique!" He grabbed both of her shoulders as she giggled, a blush coloring her cheeks. "You should be very proud, signora. Extremely proud. The only other woman to do that was our old soprano, Christine Daae! Not even La Carlotta... I think... had a full standing ovation around the grand theater like you had. Isn't that so, André?"
"I believe so!" André moved to the door and looked out for a moment as if he was looking for someone. "And we have someone that wanted to give you a praise before you had retired," he stated quickly before shouting, "Monsieur!" out the door. Theresa raised her eyebrow as she watched him wave over whoever wanted to meet her. André quickly explained, giving her a sideways glance, "He's coming, he is just talking to Madame Giry's girl in the hall. He really wanted to meet you last night, but he didn't want to bother you. So he wanted to wish you to break a leg before you would go up!"
"Don't you mean good luck?" Firman tried to correct, looking over his shoulders. He briefly had let go of Theresa's shoulders as she giggled softly shaking her head no. They really were fools when it had come down to it.
André shook his head no, "No, I believe it is bad luck to say good luck before a performance. Isn't that right, signora?"
Firman looked back to her, seeing her nod. Theresa held in her giggles to not embarrass him, but it was odd that he hadn't a clue. Especially since he was one of the managers! How could she hold that in? But she had to... with great regret. She told him slowly, "Yes, in the theater, good luck means bad luck and bad luck means good luck. In fact, it's almost just as bad as saying Macbeth close by the theater. Except there isn't a way to counter it... I don't think anyway." Firman still looked perplexed by what she just said. Like it was outrageous to believe.
She added to him quickly. "It's okay," she was going to lie for the man to not make him feel bad or a fool, "my mother and my father had done performances all the time and I didn't know that until I started to work here." She really knew it since she turned five.
"Mademoiselle," before Firman could speak, Henrietta spoke up with a slight curtsy. "I must be leaving you now."
"Oh," Theresa bowed her head in gratitude, "thank you then for all you have done, Henrietta. I will see you after." With that, Henrietta smiled softly before leaving through the wide-opened door.
Theresa waved a small goodbye gracefully then she heard Firman ask in front of her. "And... what is the way to counter saying that, signora?" Theresa didn't expect him to question that. She sighed, she wasn't really sure how to counter the Macbeth superstition. She knew there was a way... Theresa straightened her back and her eyes were cast to the ground as she rubbed her forehead in thought. Now that she couldn't think of it, she would have it plague her mind all night.
She shrugged, she couldn't let it stay, "I really don't know, monsieur. Perhaps the other performers would know, I really can't think of it."
"Nor should you need to," André told her, with a smile that spread from ear to ear. He was still waiting by the door for the guest that was to arrive. He looked to Firman, "Now, stop all the talk of superstition. It drives my head in circles." Firman nodded to him, taking a shoulder of Theresa's and bringing her over to the mirror. It felt like the time when he had done it when she was about to leave the Opera Populaire.
She was looking at her own reflection and a smile began to tug. Firman smiled at her admiringly, "Now, look at you and to think you were going to leave a week ago. Time has flown by and you grew so much from almost nothing. And still you have that determined look in your eye. I think Monsieur André and I had made a fine discovery when you came into our study, finding us! Isn't that right, André?"
He replied excited, ushering in the patron, "Indeed it is! Now, Signora Baccelli," she turned on her heel and Firman took step behind him with a crooked grin. Theresa saw a man, a tall man with large brown eyes and a smile. His eyes were smiling also. He was handsome, with his blonde hair sitting atop his head in short curls. He seemed a bit older than her, but not that much older. Theresa noticed that he had dimples when he was smiling, they indented the laugh lines that were faint. The man was every bit of a noble in his attire also. "We would like you to meet the Vicomte," he emphasized the title more than he should for her, "Gaston Fortescue, our new patron."
Patron? But what had happened to the Comte de Chagny? Wasn't he their patron? Theresa didn't want to seem rude, but she raised her eyebrow to André, with concern written on her face. "But what had happened with the Contare?"
She heard Firman next to her, "The Contare?"
Gaston laughed loudly, taking a step forward. He explained, "That means Comte in Italian, monsieur." Firman mouthed an 'oh' with his crooked grin still on his face. He walked over to André's side. "And the Comte de Chagny had family business to take care of, far too much for his younger brother to handle alone since he spent much of his time here. So, I had agreed to come and support the arts of the Opera Populaire. And my family knows more about the operas like it is the back of our hands, so I couldn't refuse that offer." He chuckled softly to himself.
Gaston held out his hand for Theresa. Her subtle, welcoming smile made way before she placed it there. She learned how to please the nobles from the ball. "Then it is a pleasure to meet you, Vicomte Fortescue."
"Pleasure is all mine, mademoiselle." He bent over and kissed her hand lightly. "I just wanted to tell you that your performance last night was very good." Gaston looked behind his shoulder at Firman and André who were watching them with an amused look in their eyes. Gaston smirked and gave them a nod while gesturing to the door, "May I have a moment lone with her please, monsieurs?"
The two by the door looked at each other, then at the Vicomte. They nodded together in unison before doing what he had asked of them. The door softly had closed with a soft click. Gaston let out a sigh of relief with the shake of his head as he looked over at Theresa. Theresa didn't know what he wanted to say to her... alone. It didn't at all seem to her good for some reason. Theresa didn't even know why she was nervous actually. He asked her curiously, "Are they always like... that?"
She nodded, looking at the door where they left. "All the time."
"Oh, the horror," Theresa looked over at him to see a bit humor in his eyes. Humor? That was something she would hardly expect. He continued, "and to think that I have to deal with it everyday. My days are definitely going to be humorous, no doubt."
"No doubt at all." Theresa stated, flattening her dress as a smirk tugged on her mouth to match his. "They can be overwhelming at times. The men would do anything to get some profit in their pockets." She shouldn't have said that, especially around the patron. But she did feel comfort around him, there was something about him that made her trust him. Maybe it was how his brown eyes seemed friendly and warm.
Gaston nodded in agreement, "I can tell already. Are they related in anyway? Shape or form? I don't know why, but they could be long lost twins, you know?"
She chuckled, "I know." It was almost like this man could read her mind! She was just thinking about it before when they entered in on her. "Those two are characters but they are entertaining to be around. I remember when I told them I was leaving because of my cold feet, they told me anything and everything to boost up my self-esteem. They are actually very good at... groveling I think."
"Yes, that is a good quality to have," he started, "And if I am to be entertained than I would like my stay here even more. My first four days of being patron had definitely, without any doubt were interestingly..." he trailed off, finding the right word. He seemed to be in deep thought of it. He chuckled lightly, shrugging, "interesting!" She laughed nodding to him, he was definitely different from the other nobles. He was easy to get along with. "How long have you known them both? A while, probably, right?"
She hummed, thinking for a moment, "At least four months. It feels like a short amount of time though."
"It does seem like a short amount time!" He agreed with her. "Little time to prepare for the show last night, I think."
"I only had four weeks of rehearsals," she admitted to him as she took a seat by her vanity. Her legs were growing tired already. The man's jaw visibly dropped and his eyes widened in shock. It was a short amount of time to learn everything, she would admit, and for him it wasn't not enough probably. "And I made changes to the music with Monsieur Reyer three days before last night to the encore."
He looked at her in disbelief for a moment, but then he saw that she was being honest. He chuckled in disbelief for a moment and then admitted to her, "Unbelievable, you had to have great training for that, mademoiselle, truly!" Theresa nodded to him, but she didn't say who it was from. She was trying to stray away from her mother's training to find her own voice and she had somewhat succeeded in that. She needed more improvement. "And I notice your accent now, you don't sing with it. That must be hard, it sounds really strong."
Theresa admitted, "It's a horrible part of me. I wish I didn't talk with it, but it is all that I have from home."
"What part are you from?" He asked curiously, looking at her from head to toe. Theresa went to open her mouth to answer, but he held out his finger to her. "Wait, let me guess," she raised her eyebrow as he placed it on her lips and looked down in thought. It seemed a while before he answered, "Ah, I know! Florence. Beautiful part, I like their artwork."
She chuckled, shaking her head no. "Not at all close. I was born in Venice and mostly raised in Naples."
"Really?" She nodded curtly at him. "That's very interesting, I wouldn't have guessed."
"Then thank God I didn't let you guess any more." Theresa said to him quickly. "Wait a minute," she held up her finger. It was strange how this was the first time that they were meeting each other. He said before that he had been here for four days now and she hadn't noticed him at all? Theresa didn't even hear talk of him until now, she was busy through the days but she had heard more talk about the Phantom than the handsome new patron. Obviously the vicious gossip only revolved around one thing at a time.
"This is the first time we're meeting," she started skeptically, "and I haven't even heard talk that you were the new patron from others. That's so strange, isn't it?"
He chuckled lightly, "No, it isn't. I wanted to meet you last night face-to-face. You retired too early for me, so I decided before the performance I would take a chance. As for the talk around here, I have no say in that. I'm not very intriguing. I'll admit that to you. But I was nervous for this meeting, it's going better than I thought it would." She raised her eyebrow in question. Why was he nervous about it? He figured he would need to explain that, "I've heard your Prima Donnas can turn into Prima Monstres."
It took a moment to realize what that meant, but she realized that it was so close to monsters. She hoped that she wasn't one to him now. "Don't worry, you seem like you couldn't turn the slightest, mademoiselle." He assured her.
"Oh, that's good." Theresa hoped that she wouldn't have her moments. Like the one she had with Reyer, she could still shiver from the guilt with talking to him like that. "You don't have to call me mademoiselle, monsieur." She told him with a smile as she stood up on her feet. "Theresa would be fine."
He chuckled, "Alright then. My friends call me Jean."
Theresa raised her eyebrow that had recently fallen. Jean? His name was Gaston? Why would he want to be called Jean? It didn't make any sense to her. She didn't even think that name stemmed off of Gaston so it wouldn't have made sense to her. She repeated slowly, "Jean..." He nodded just as slowly, like nothing was wrong with it. Would it be rude to ask what would possess him to allow people to call him Jean? She decided to take that bold risk. It needed to be done to stop her curious thoughts. "Why Jean?"
"Well, it all started when I was younger. My friend that my tutor home-schooled with me was the one who started it. It... rung. Jean Emmanuelle Fortescue. It sounds better, not as dry. So, it was turned into a habit and my friends started to call me it. It stuck with me," he threw his hands on either side of him, "what can I say? I think it sounds better. I automatically answer more to it than my actual name."
"If that is so," Theresa started, "then you should change it to Jean. It does sound better, but it would confuse people like me."
Gaston... well, uh, Jean... (it was strange how she had to call him that now) sighed grudgingly. "I would love to. But, of course, I have this terrible threat that my father proposed to disinherit me if I try to do that. The name was my grandfather's who had died before I was born and my father's, it's passed down to the first born. It is an honor to have it, but I think my brother would rather have it than I; he seems more like that name than me."
"Ah, I understand—." She was cut off by the door opening. Theresa and Jean's head snapped to the figure that stood there. Henri took a step in all in costume. She was still getting used to the makeup that he had worn. He looked very much different with it on and it made him look older. Henri looked between them, uncertain how he should make of this. "Henri," she started, she was actually pleased to see him. Theresa hadn't seen him all day which was strange, he would make a short appearance usually... they all seemed to be at the times where she didn't want to see him as well.
"Ah, Monsieur D'Aubigne," Jean moved away from her to look at him up and down. "Pleasure seeing you again."
"You, too, monsieur," Henri nodded his head thoughtfully to him. His eyes switched from Jean to Theresa quickly and unnoticed by Jean. The air in the room suddenly had gotten awkward between them all and Theresa and Jean looked at each other innocently. They didn't do anything that deserved the sudden awkward chill. Well, in their eyes they were friends, but in Henri's eyes he somehow was glad that they were interrupted by him. Henri gulped, clearing his throat, "I didn't know you were in here."
Jean moved more away from her as he looked around the room. Theresa thought it was amazing how the man could turn from Jean to Gaston just like that. She could have done it with the snap of her fingers since it was so astonishing. "Well, yes, I am here," his tone was suave and proper. It was flawless. "I wanted to meet the lovely soprano here. You said she retired early last night so I couldn't go on seeing the next show without congratulating her on her debut," which he still hadn't done. He quickly looked over at her and quietly said, "Congratulations, Theresa."
She nodded her head, "Thank you, Jean." Henri raised his eyebrow at her when she said Jean. That wasn't his name.
He smiled at her appreciatively and then turned back to Henri, "Well, I wish you both to break a leg tonight. I'll be off to my box now." Jean walked away from Theresa and while Henri glared at him for him to incinerate (it didn't work), he walked out just as gracefully as he had walked in. Theresa could feel him and her would be really good friends in the coming future, nothing more.
Henri cleared his throat, "Time to go, Theresa." Theresa looked at him, the tone of his voice made her shudder for a moment. She didn't know why it had, it bothered her. He sounded a bit worried and not like himself. Theresa nodded slowly for him before walking past him to go backstage. He looked around the room for a moment, his eyes landing on the white rose that was on her nightstand. It was something that he didn't want to see there. He suddenly hoped it would die.
And with that hope, he brought a fake smile before following her.
Hope you all enjoyed it :) Henri gets a little jealous, doesn't he? We all have that friend who doesn't like their real name so they change it to something else unofficially, don't we? Thank you for reading and I hope you all had a great Thanksgiving! If you hadn't already, like me on facebook for previews, character bios & physical appearances, and direct links to new updates :)