Rebirth (Hetalia X Reader)

Chapter 9

"Where were you?" Marianne demands as soon as I step into our appartement.

I sigh. It was much to late for this. I was tired and wanted to go to bed. I needed to wake up early too. "I'm an adult," I sigh. "I'm allowed to do what I want without having to tell you everything, you know. It's called free will and also happens to be my right."

"Oh please," Marianne rolls her eyes. "Free will is an illusion and you know that. We all answer to someone." She paused, realizing she's been sidetracked with one of her little philosophical blurbs. "But you answer my question! Where were you tonight? I was worried sick!" She strides forwards and wraps me in a hug. The faint smell of tobacco smoke and French perfume lingers on her skin.

"I was with Francis, okay?" I confess, massaging my temples. "I was at his restaurant having dinner with him. He even walked me home." I drop my hands to my sides and give her a little self-satisfied smile.

Marianne looks dumbstruck. "You went on a date?" It sounds more like a statement than a question.

"No! Well..." I hesitate; had it been a date? "No!" I repeat, finally deciding on an answer. "Her offered me a job. You don't offer your date a job." I laugh awkwardly and move into the kitchen, dropping my bag on the counter.

Marianne was speechless for a moment, a hundred diffrent emmotions morphing her face at once. First there was surprise, then disbelief followed by anger and so on... always returning to anger at regular intervals. "He did what?" She demanded. "Did you take it?"

I had no idea why she was so mad... maybe it was because she was going to loose her working partner? "Well... yeah." I nod, twisting my hands. "I need an actual job too; the sex industry only gets you so far in life."

Marianne scoffed. "Are you trying to say something about me and what I do?"

I rolled my eyes and make my way towards my bedroom. "Oh please Mary-Anne," I purposefully mispronounce her name. "Not everything is about you!" I enter my room and slam the door behind me.

===

I knock on Francis' door, early in the morning as I'd promised. The door swings open almost immediately. "Bon matin!" Francis sings. "I've prepared us some breakfast."

He turns and leaves me to close the door. I follow him into the kitchen and lean over the counter, watching as he nimbly slices pieces of colourful fruit. Two bowls filled with yogurt and granola sit nearby. When he's finished slicing the fruit, he scoops then up between his knife and left hand before sprinkling them over the bowls. He slides one towards me, dipping a silver spoon into his marvelous creation. We said grace and began eating, standing at the counter.

I slid my schedule over to Francis. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a blue fountain pen. "Let's see..." He murmurs, pulling the cap off his pen and tape it against his full lips. I can't help but watch as he does that. It's somehow very appealing. He quickly scribbles times that I should come in and work across my schedule. "Does this seem like a fair amount of time to you?" He asks, slipping it back over to me.

I check the timings and nod. "Looks good to me!" I smile. I'd be working most afternoons and evenings... I hope this won't bother Marianne too much. Wait. No in fact, I don't care if this bothered Marianne. I need to make a living and selling myself won't get me there.

"Perfect." Francis smiles and takes my empty bowl, dropping it in the sink. He turns on the hot water and goes to roll up his sleeves but I stop him.

"How about I do that?" I place and hand on his forearm. He stares at me for a moment as if he's trying to decide if I'm joking or not.

"Okay," He slowly pulled his hands away from the sink. "If you say so..." He watches for a moment in silence as I grab the white dish rag that was sitting on the edge of the sink, squirt some dish soap into the warm water and begin to wash the dishes. "If you don't mind, I need to get to work. So could you lock up after you're finished and bring me my key when you come to work this afternoon."

I look over my shoulder and nod with a smile. "Of course." My smile falters when I consider something. Would he trust me so much if I was a prostitute? Time to find out. "Um, Francis... there's something you might want to know before you leave me alone in your home."

Francis looked over at me as he was shrugging on the jacket he had leant me last night during the brisk walk home. "Hm?" He smiled.

"You might not trust me all that much after this, but," I took a deep breath and turned off the water so he would be able to hear me properly. "I sort of already have a job... I sell sex; I'm a prostitute."

The smile doesn't fade from Francis' face. "I know," He says without missing a beat.

I blink. "You- how?" I ask, bewildered. I'd been so careful around him and made sure not to mention my line of work.

"I've met a lot of people in my life time," He begins as he boutons up his peacoat. "After awhile, you just learn to pick it up." He looks back up at me and smiles softly, tossing me his keys from across the kitchen. I catch them, still dumbfounded. "I'll see you at work." He winks before turning and exiting his apartment.

I look down at the keys in my hands. I really appreciate the fact that he trusts me despite my line of work. Not many people do. So, I slip the keys into my pocket and turn back towards the sink to finish the dishes.

===

"I would have you as a waitress," Francis smiles at me over his shoulder as he leads me towards the kitchen. "But the fact you can't speak french may cause some problems."

I shrug. "I figured that much. So what will I be doing?"

"Cutting vegetables. I trust you can do that." He chuckled and handed me a white apron. "May I?" He gestured towards my hair with a hair net. I nodded and he fits it over my head. He then turns me towards a stainless steels counter and drops a cucumber on a marble cutting board in front of me.

I gently take the knife he presents me with and bring it to the vegetable in front of me. Before I can start slicing, however, Francis presses himself against my back and loops his arms under mine, taking both of my hands son his palms are pressed against the back of them. My heart rate immediately picks up. "Let me show you." Francis murmurs in my ear as he slowly begins to guide my hands into cutting the cucumber into perfect little disks.

I let him do it, embracing his warmth against my back and the smell of expensive cologne permeating from his body. Despite having a good family life and spending about a year in the sex industry I've never felt this... loved. As soon as Francis thinks I get the handle of it, he separates himself from me and walks deeper into the kitchen. I watch him walk away and as if he could feel his eyes on me, he looks over his shoulder and throws me a wink.