Chapter XXIX: Love and War
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Fidèle stood in the corner of the kitchen, shuffling through Poète’s mail.
She had to admit, this was a guilty pleasure and that she was nosy.
“Taxes… bills… more bills…”67Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHxm1z9QT5f
She sighed.
“Frèdèric’s mail was a lot more interesting.”
She muttered, flipping through papers faster with her thumb.
Then, she landed on an unsealed envelope.
She picked it up, placing the rest of the envelopes on the counter and removing the letter.
She pulled the folded piece of paper out and began skimming over it, recognizing Poète’s slightly distorted handwriting.
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My deareditor:
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I am well aware that you have given me a merciful deadline extensionnow thrice, but due to an unexpected fondness of a certain nuisance of mine the second draft of my latest manuscript is incomplete. Now, I must unfortunately request a further extension. Please don’t hate me, Edward.
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- Poète La Malèdiction
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Fidèle chuckled slightly as she carefully slid the paper back into the envelope.
“I think you misspelled ‘I haven’t started yet’ , Poe.”
She turned towards Poète’s bedroom door, which was cracked open a fraction.
“How’s that draft coming, Poe?”
“I- How do you-?! Go away!”
Fidèle ignored him, clearing her throat.
“Can I read it? Y’know once it’s ready.”
“You’re so a- Oh dear, what?”
Poète croaked, putting down his pen and leaning over to look out of his room.
“Nothing! Nothing! You’re delusional! Go back to whatever you’re doing! I don’t care!”
Fidèle shouted, crossing her arms over her chest and turning to face away from him.
Poète let out a gasp of mock offense.
“That’s not fair!”
Fidèle looked over her shoulder.
“All is fair in love and war, Socrates.”
Poète clicked his pen against his desk.
“Then which are we? In love or at war?”
Fidèle bit the inside of her cheek.
“You’re awful. Y’know that?”
She sneered.67Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZa0oMEmYwn
Poète placed a hand over his heart.
“You wound me, cherie!”
Fidèle gestured dismissively.
“You’re insane!”
“Oh dear! I know! Isn’t it marvelous, darling?”
Poète laughed.
Fidèle pinched the bridge of her nose.
“Don’t spin in your chair. You’ll fall over. Again.”
She huffed, turning on her heel and walking out of the room.
“‘Dawhling’ “
She mocked, biting the inside of her lip.67Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyrFBaQRaV5
and then Add to home screen.