Chapter XIX: Not All of Us Can Marry Lawyers
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Rain trickled down roofs and into the gutters of the streets, winding though cobblestones and debris in the road.
This was not an uncommon sight in London, given its rainy climate that it had become rather famous for.
A bulky, black automobile clattered by, splashing muddy water in its wake.
Fidèle stepped over a puddle, her hands shoved deep into the pockets of her coat, a cobalt, wide brimmed hat proceeded her hair from the rain.
“London! I could’ve gone somewhere tropical! Like… the Caribbean or.. The Bahamas, but no, I chose to go to London!”
She grumbled, removing a grey glove and squeezing some of the water out.
She stood on the porch of house number one hundred seventy three and knocked on the door.
“Poe! It’s me! Open up! It’s freezing out here!”
There was no answer.
She huffed and nudged the door open with her knee.
“Poe?”
A soft, incoherent mumble echoed through the nearly empty house.
Poète’s bedroom door was cracked open slightly.
She prodded the door open with her foot and stuck her head in with an eyebrow raised.
“Poe…?”
She sing-songed curiously.
Poète was draped over the edge of his messy bed, a hammer slipping out of his hand and a box of nails tipped on its side.
A new notebook was nailed to the wall, the ink still damp.
“You idiot, you're going to stab yourself in your sleep.”
Fidèle whisper-scolded, gathering the nails back into the box and placing it on the side table.
Poète mumbled something vague and prostrated.
Fidèle spotted the corner of a small piece of paper sticking out of Poète’s vest pocket.
Removed it and unfolded it curiously.
She tilted her head, raising her eyebrows.
“Oh! I see it.”9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡn8RAt3LjXi
She mumbled to herself.
The paper was a very crudely drawn picture of Vide and Personne.
“So that’s what they looked like… ish.”9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYnW7cHiuwZ
“Were you trying to pickpocket me?! You were trying to pickpocket me! Oh dear! Vide was righ-”9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡO7XGLAe2rr
Poète chattered, his words slurred slightly from sleep.
Fidèle’s head snapped up.
“What is there to pickpocket?! You’re broke!”
She gestured vaguely with the piece of paper before looking down at it again.
“Also, this drawing is terrible.”9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxbE65KBx5f
“I tried my best, ok?!”
Poète huffed and crossed his arms.
“Not all of us can marry lawyers.”
He grumbled.
Fidèle slowly raised an eyebrow.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKmaZqzrLqx
“Did you want to marry him?”9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9RIhT3Zm18
Poète’s face momentarily twisted in disgust.
“Oh dear! No!”9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡI2aBSnwj0D
He yelped with a slight chuckle.
“Exactly.”
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and then Add to home screen.