28th January 2009. 09:21. Pitié-Salpêtrière Hospital. Paris, France.
Third Person POV
It had been 17 days since Antoine had been admitted at the hospital. As much as I would like to say he was getting better, I'd be lying to you all.
In the last 17 days, Sophia had stayed all day everyday at the hospital watching over her father. The only thing that seemed to be improving was Antoine's breathing. He now needed less doses of oxygen and he was feeling okay. But not everything was sailing as smoothly.
Just three days ago, René had informed Sophia that Antoine's kidneys were not responding so well. He had now just one working kidney and his care to keep the other one okay was more intensive.
A week ago, his pancreas had stopped working properly and he had to be sustained with serums and IV's to keep him somewhat healthy.
What Sophia didn't want was to see her father in pain or suffer. They had talked about what would happen in case that happened and it was not a pleasant conversation.
*FLASHBACK*
Antoine was lying on his bed when Sophia came through the door after talking to René. He had just told the young Dumont that her father's condition was estable, but with his pancreas not working properly there would be a domino effect that would start affecting other organs.
Sophia knew and as far as René explained, that Antoine was not in pain. That was what worried her the most. She did not want to be selfish. She did not want to keep her dad alive but suffering, but she also did not want to let him go. She didn't know if being selfish was the solution. God, she knew it wasn't, but she was not ready to say goodbye.
As she came through the door, Antoine knew his daughter was worried. He could see it in her features and her facial expression. She had a poker face at the moment, but he, just like Tony, could see further than that.
Sophia sat down on the couch beside her father's bed. She thought he was asleep, so she took out her sketchbook and started drawing something she couldn't get out of her head for the last 13 years.
She was so concentrated, that when her father's voice appeared, she jumped a little.
-In that pose, you look just like your mother.- Antoine said as he smiled a little, watching his daughter jump.
-Papa! You scared me.- Sophia said as she took a hand to her heart, chuckling a little.
-Sorry, darling.- Antoine said and he looked at Sophia. The way her hair was tied in a high ponytail with a few loose curls around her face, her head looking down at her sketchbook, the way her hands grabbed the pencil, or the way she scrunched her eyebrows, concentrating on her drawing. The way her eyes moved across the page, the way she sat on the chair, reminded him terribly of his wife.
Sophia was the spitting image of Victoire. Her big brown expressive, happy and shiny eyes. Her brown curly hair, the small but perfectly proportional nose, her rosy cheeks. That little mole on her left cheek, below her eye, just like the one Victoire had. Her artistic hands that seemed too delicate, small and harmless when in reality, they were able to hold a big gun or snap someone's neck if needed.
Sophia had inherited a lot more things also from Antoine, mostly from character. From the nose down, it was someone's features, a combination of Victoire and him. The plump rosy lips, the defined and sharp jaw that made him look strong, but somehow it made his daughter's features look sharper and more delicate. Her big bright smile that could light up a whole town.
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