𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐇 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐒
❝ They're the French Kissers,
that's what they do.
They will lure you in
and then they'll kill you
with a kiss. ❞
━ in which the leader of the french kissers
...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"I met your rose." Polly, as always, was the only one brave enough to disturb Thomas' quiet. He was at his office, smoking his thoughts away, trying to wipe the tantalizing image of Rose in her black dress off his mind, but the afterimage persisted, deeply imprinted behind his eyelids. Then Polly barged in, harshly closed the door behind her, and now Thomas wished he'd gone to Rose the second he saw her at his house, because she was better than whiskey, better than cigarettes, and certainly much better than a patronizing lecture from Polly Gray. "Quite a thorny one, that pretty thing is."
"Pretty and thorny, yes." Thomas opened his desk drawer, shoved the cigarette case inside, slammed it shut. "But not mine."
"Oh, she is." The shrilling sound of Polly's heels echoed across the polished floor, banged straight against the carefully constructed walls of Thomas' mind. He felt like something in him had either already exploded or was about to; his nerves were on edge ever since seeing Rose. She had come. She was here, but she was avoiding him, and he was avoiding her, like schoolkids on the playground. Still, he had instantly known when she'd arrived: she had the guests whispering about her as soon as she strode in, all too scandalized at her choice of attire. Had Thomas' body on fire and his mind haywire at the same time. "You both just don't know it yet. She's too much of her own person to ever give herself completely to you, but she is yours. As much as you are hers, that is."
"So you met her." He stubbed out his cigarette on the ashtray, the all-consuming need to smoke suddenly lost, replaced by an addiction much stronger. "So what?"
This was the first time Polly was talking to him after getting out of jail, and it was ironic that even in this Rose had power, that she'd unwillingly made herself the center of conversation, that Polly took one look at her and deemed her important enough to go past her resentment towards Tommy and speak to him. He was well aware Ada and Charlie were the only reason why Polly and his brothers had attended this party, that they were all still angry at him, hated him even. He had no intentions of changing that, of making it up to them. They had to understand why he'd done it, and if they didn't, well, that was their problem, not his.
"I came to warn you, though I know you're always foolish enough to ignore my warnings." Polly stopped right in front of him, eyes squinting, like she saw in him things he himself couldn't. "Remember what France did to you? That woman will do the same. She's war in a different form, Tommy. And you'll call it love."
