Chapter XXIV: Sentence Two of Paragraph Three
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Fidèle plopped down on the floor next to Poète’s chair, eating half burnt scrambled eggs out of a ladle.
Poète regarded her with annoyance, tossing down his pen with a flick of his wrist.
“Why are you in here?”
He quipped.
“I’m l- bored and it’s fun to annoy you.”
She said, muffled by a mouth full of food.
“Don’t you have anyone else who cares about you?!”9Please respect copyright.PENANAC0bkJysasv
“Are you saying you care about me?”
“N-No! I just- I-”9Please respect copyright.PENANAImSWa2JVA5
“Spit it out already.”
“Is that your catch phrase or something?!”9Please respect copyright.PENANAQdVOJJdYEo
Fidèle shrugged.9Please respect copyright.PENANAu54AGkgQ1s
“It could be.”9Please respect copyright.PENANAqqfIkTBeDy
Poète tossed a crumpled up piece of paper over his shoulder at her.
“I mean don’t you have any friends, relatives, anything?”9Please respect copyright.PENANAtnaoMCmWFz
He huffed, gesturing vaguely as he wrote.
“Do you?”
“Friends? Apparently, no. My relatives are in France.”9Please respect copyright.PENANAzUZ2H0JFhH
“Precisely.”
She grunted, whipping her mouth in her sleeve.
“Don’t you have any manners?!”
He snapped.
She sighed as if contemplating something profound.9Please respect copyright.PENANAg3OaITLuMi
“Usually, yes but, you already hate me, so no.”
He rubbed his temples.
“I wish I hated you. It would make this so much easier.”
He grumbled.
She reached for the paper ball and opened it.
“...Is this… a letter to your brother?”9Please respect copyright.PENANAbsGRyvrtyH
“No!”9Please respect copyright.PENANABPwZkvDSoZ
“Who else do you address as ‘Oof-elbow’ then, Lamp Boy?”
Poète whipped around, nearly knocking over his chair.
“OH DEAR- WHO TOLD YOU ABOUT LAMP BOY?!”
He gasped.
“Your mother.”
She purred as she examined the paper.
Poète’s eyes widened.9Please respect copyright.PENANAD3qsJNacbo
“What else has leaked into your consciousness.”
“What?”
She chirped, narrowing her eyes at the paper.
“In sentence two of paragraph three, when you were explaining how I have a ‘cleaning obsession’ you spelt ‘nuisance’ wrong.”9Please respect copyright.PENANAhDlT4H1pG2
“I know. What else has my mother told you?!”
Fidèle shrugged at the demand.
“Eh… just random stuff.”9Please respect copyright.PENANA2sRblVQRKt
Poète raised an eyebrow.
“What kind of ‘random stuff’, Mademoiselle?”
“Oh y’know. That your grandfather’s name was John, that you read Romeo and Juilet and nearly threw up, the origins of ‘Lamp Boy' of course, which is where your brother called you a drunk lamppost and that was forever your name and uh…”
Poète buried his face in his hands.
“Oh dear Lord… continue.”
“She said you fancied me.”
“Oh dear! That’s the one thing where she was painfully, well… wrong!”
He chuckled, smugly.
She glanced over at him with a raised eyebrow.
“...Oh?”
“Oh yes!”9Please respect copyright.PENANAox1maDPOEZ
He let out another cackle and she shoved more food in her mouth awkwardly.
“Ah… I fancied your cousin.”
He chirped cheerfully.
She snorted, eggs flying out of her mouth.
“...JAMIE?!”
She gasped, coughing into her hand.9Please respect copyright.PENANALagPQcv0Yo
“Oui, oui, cherie!”9Please respect copyright.PENANAKlGQV41qbr
A thick layer of silence fell over them as her mouth curled into a smile, examining the paper again.
She cleared her throat.
“So… uh… when did you stop using quills?”
Poète blinked, caught off guard by the sudden question.
“How could you tell?”9Please respect copyright.PENANADUKBjB2sEl
“There’s no splotches and I saw a ballpoint pen in your hand.”
She remarked.
Poète let out a huff.9Please respect copyright.PENANAUObPel7VdK
“Well, I used quills for the ‘authentic poet experience’. They dripped everywhere and made the most horrendous scratching sound. Though, the pens aren’t much better. I keep forgetting the ink needs to dry and smudging it terribly. Oh dear, I know you’re going to say, ‘Well, then why don’t you try pencils!’ and I have but they smudge more! It gets on all the other sheets of paper which is so selfish of them!”
Fidèle smiled.
“You’re very passionate about… writing utensils.”
She smirked.
“Oh dear. I suppose so. Vide always said that stationary was very important in the quality of art.”9Please respect copyright.PENANA9PZy3B9CEK
He said, tapping his pen on the back of his hand.
He paused for a moment, glancing up into the upper left corner of the room before rambling on.
“On the other hand, Personne said that the quality of art depends upon how much the artist believes in themselves Vide and Personne never did fully get along. Dreadful if you ask me.”
He chirped.
“...Are you drunk or something?”
“I’m a poet, poupée, so in a way yes.”9Please respect copyright.PENANAw0IXB2SqGg
He explained.
“It’s awfully lovely, if you ask me.”
A slow, mischievous smile spread across her face.9Please respect copyright.PENANAdPjfSKUJjj
“...What’re you going to do?”
He managed to mumble before she lunged over and snatched his notebook out of his hands.
“HEY-”
“Shush, I’m just peekin’!”
She cooed, flipping pages backwards.
He flushed slightly.
“Oh dear… just… be very very cautious… and don’t forget to be careful, too!”
He peeped, his eyes widening slightly.
“I will, I will, Poe. Don’t you worry. Why don’t you trust me?”9Please respect copyright.PENANAwxmPLx3xiX
She said with a grin.
He glowered down at her disdainfully.
“You must have the memory of a .
He glowered down at her as he raised his eyebrows.
“Oh dear. I hate to pry but how is your memory, cherie?”
Fidèle snorted.
“I’ve taught you well.”
“You’ve taught me nothing.”
“Hm… sure. Whatever you have to tell yourself.”
She chirped, just loud enough for him to hear.
Poète huffed, drumming his fingers on his temple.
Fidèle glanced up at him as she shifted to sit on her legs.
“You miss them. Don’t you? Vide and Personne that is.”
Poète turned his head to look down at her, his breath caught in his throat as he fixed a small shaky smile on his face.
“Oh… d-dear… why… do you ask?”9Please respect copyright.PENANAbb121o5XQH
Fidèle turned the notebook around and raised her eyebrows in mock surprise, pursing her lips.
“How interesting! I wonder why these two drawings just happen to have ‘Vide and Personne’ written under them in… I can’t tell if that’s print or cursive.”
“Oh dear! Fine. You’ve caught me. I do miss them. Dreadfully.”9Please respect copyright.PENANAohI15h31cJ
He admitted folding his hands under his chin.
“Now, give me that.”9Please respect copyright.PENANAFetB20BKcw
He muttered, taking the book from Fidèle’s hands and squinting at the paper.
“It’s both print and cursive. A pattern, if you will, one letter is cursive, another is print. I’m surprised you can read it. I barely can.”9Please respect copyright.PENANAr1gu39J0IS
Fidèle blinked slowly.
“Isn’t that… your handwriting?”9Please respect copyright.PENANAdEyR2HYda0
“Oui. And?”9Please respect copyright.PENANAzIffMMIS7b
“Never mind… Mon Dieu you’re a mess.”
She yawned, rubbing her eyes.
He nodded once.
“You’ve said so many times, poupée.”
Fidèle shuffled backwards on her elbows to lean against the wall, tightening the ribbon in her hair.
“It’s ‘cuz I mean it, espèce d'oie.”
He froze, halfway turned around.9Please respect copyright.PENANArRJfKsTPyL
“...Did you just call me a goose?”
She smirked.9Please respect copyright.PENANABI6WYoOGHo
“Yes, I did. You’re welcome.”
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