Ghost!France x Reader

Chapter 8: Revelation, somewhat

Entering my home, I took notice of the silence. There was no greeting from Francis and the house didn't even make a creak, it was as if the world stood still. Closing the door I walked more inside, looking around the room.
"Francis?" I called out, hoping that'd he would appear. I walked upstairs and continued to look around. "Are you here?" I called out again. Walking further down the corridor, I noticed a door at the end of it, dust and dirt littered the door itself. I stood in front of the door, taking notice of the missing handle. Staring at the door in confusion, I placed my hands on my hips. "How did I not notice you?" I thought aloud. I searched the ground to see if I could find a handle for the mysterious door, but seeing none I tried to open the door without the handle. As I took hold of the hole, a gust of wind came by.
"Ah ma chérie, I didn't even notice you come in." And just like that, Francis appeared beside me. I pulled my hand away from the door and crossed my arms.
"I called you a few times when I came in." I said, Francis brushed me off.
"I must've not heard you." I gave him a look.
"You always come when I call you."
"Ah yes well, perhaps my hearing is going." I decided not to push him anymore, instead I asked him about the door.
"So what's with this door? Why is there no handle?" I asked him, he glanced at the door and then back at me.
"Oh it's nothing, just an old storage space." Francis said, I glanced at the door as well.
"Then where's the handle?"
"It must have fallen off many years ago." I nodded, not needing to further question him about the door. I began to head back downstairs. Francis followed.
"So how was the meet up with your friend?" He asked and I shrugged a bit, walking down the stairs.
"It was okay, we just talked that's all." I decided to leave out the part about the rumors that my great grandmother could have killed Francis. Besides, it's only a rumor..I hope. Walking into the kitchen, I pulled out a few things from the fridge and began to make something for lunch.
   After lunch I thought over what I should do, I could just tell Francis what I heard it I could delay that knowledge...it's definitely better to delay, at least for now until I get more information about it. At that moment an idea popped into my head; my great grandmothers diary. I completely forgot about that, I'll just read it and find out clues along the way. This Nancy Drew mystery is gonna get solved in no time! Going back upstairs to my room, I looked for the diary, knowing that I put it in the nightstand. I looked and it wasn't there, which was odd because I never moved it, not since the last entry that I read. I searched around the room, seeing no sign of the diary anywheres. Mulling over the possibilities of where it could be, I called out Francis' name, hoping that he just moved it by accident.
"Oui, ma chérie?" He appeared next to me, a smile on his lips.
"There was a diary in that drawer, did you move it by chance?" He shook his head and I sighed a bit, mumbling to myself.
"Why? Is it important?" He asked.
"Yes it is, very important." I proclaimed.
"Than I shall keep an eye out for it." Francis stated, immediately leaving my room. I looked at where he was and sighed a bit. Something wasn't right, Francis had never acted like this before, it's definitely not like him. But I left that thought alone, thinking that it's just ghost jitters or something like that.
Deciding that looking for the diary right now was useless, I quickly got changed into a pair of jeans and a tank top and went outside to start on some of the lawn maintenance that needed to be done. Grabbing the gas can, I filled up the lawnmower and capped it off. I put my hair up into a ponytail and sifted through the tall grass for any sticks or rocks that might get stuck in the blades of the mower. I picked up a few large sticks, holding them in one hand as I placed them on the porch for now. Grabbing the lawnmower, I positioned it at the edge of the lawn, near the porch so I could frame the outline of the lawn. Squeezing down on the handle, I pulled back the cord and listened to the hum of the motor.
Mowing through the tall grass seemed easier while looking at it, although I finished in a hour and a half, I had to go around the entire front lawn a second time just to make the grass short and not choppy. After doing that, it took a lot of my energy out, sitting down on the porch steps I leaned back against them, panting softly as the adrenaline slowly left my veins. I always forgot how hard it can be to mow lawns. I slowly calmed down my breathing and closed my eyes, feeling the sun on the front of my body, keeping me warm even as the wind started to pick up. After a few short moments I got back up and went inside to cool off.
   After taking a bath and getting changed into clean clothes, I started on making dinner. Grabbing some ingredients I prepped some chicken breasts, slicing them in half down the center to a medium thickness. After rubbing the mixture of spices onto the chicken, I put them into the oven and started on the side for it. Putting the cutting board on the counter, I placed a few fresh cucumbers on the board, the water glistening on the green skin. Cutting the cucumbers into medium-thin slices and putting them into the glass bowl next to the cutting board. I absentmindedly thought of Francis and what was up with him, I haven't seen him since he was in my room, on that thought the house was even more quiet than usual. Sometimes the walls or floors would freak from the age of the house, but today it was still, not even the wind made the house cream in the slightest. As I thought, I didn't realize that I finished chopping up the cucumber and the knife sliced through my finger.
"Fuck!" Cursing more I held my finger, staring as the blood seeped out of the cut, running down my finger and onto my hand and arm. Mumbling more obscenities I turned on the faucet, washing my finger gently. Grimacing as the blood never seemed to quite stop, sighing I wrapped it in a paper towel and went upstairs to the bathroom. Walking up the stairs and into the bathroom, I grabbed the first aid kit that was in the medicine cabinet. Closing the cabinet I almost jumped; Francis was behind me. Turning around quickly to confront him, he wasn't there. Shaking my head I went to taking care of my finger, cleaning it with an alcohol wipe and putting a bandaid over it. I put away the first aid kit and started to walk out the door when it slammed shut on me, the lock setting into place. I tried to open it but it wouldn't budge.
"Francis?" I called out, trying the door handle again. "Francis, come on this isn't funny!" I yelled out. The room got colder, a stark contrast from the warm weather outside. Turning around I saw Francis there, a gloomy look on his face.
"You know." Was all he said, I gave him a confused look.
"The hell are you talking about, I know? What do I know?" I asked him, his response was a blank stare.
"Don't pretend, I know about your conversation." Conversation? What conver-oh..
"Wait?...did you follow me? Francis did you fucking follow me?" I stepped towards him but paused as he glared at me, the room dropping in temperature rapidly.
"She didn't kill me that British bastard did, and if you think I'm going to let you believe that she did, well." He gave a dark chuckle, "you're sorely mistaken, ma chère." Francis stepped towards me, every step was menacing. I backed myself up at the door, the wood pressing into my back.
"Francis...come I'm trying to help you." I pleaded with him, but he continued to advance towards me, a small tsk slipping past his lips.
"You shouldn't believe petty rumors." He stood in front of me, a breath hairs away. I tried to shrink away but there was nowhere to go, not anymore.
"Fran-" before I could finish his name, he reached out and put his hand on my head, a blinding pain filled my head.
Francis stood by the lake, a small velvet box in one hand a bundle of roses and tulips in the other. A smile graced his lips as he awaited his love, [great grandmothers name]. Francis whistled softly as he waited, his giddiness overflowing through his veins. He couldn't believe he was finally proposing and leaning with her, after months of courtship, they were finally moving on with their life together. A noise protruded through the bushes and Francis stopped whistling, straightening his stance. He smiled more as [great grandmother's name] stepped through the bushes, a sad smile graced her lips, tears rolling down her cheeks.
"I'm so sorry." He tilted his head to the side, confused at her words until she saw him. Arthur, that English bastard who thought of himself as the greatest thing to ever walk this green earth. What was he doing here? Had he harmed his love? Arthur smiled smugly at Francis, his hand gripped her wrist tightly.
"I should've expected you to come ruin this." Francis said, "you haven't changed, have you?" Arthur snorted.
"You're still the same blimey frog." Francis rolled his eyes.
"What are you doing here? You have no business being here."
"Ah but I think that I do, you see this poppets father doesn't particularly like you and well he paid me a fair amount of money to make sure you don't come near her daughter again, by any means necessary." Arthur gave a smirk and pulled out a rope from his pocket. Francis glared at him.
"You're petty threats can't stop us from being together, Arthur, no amount of money can keep me from [great grandmothers name]." Arthur gave a sigh and then a chuckle.
"I was hoping you'd say that." And with that, Arthur lunged at Francis, effectively knocking the Frenchmen over. Francis gripped onto Arthur's shirt, punching him in he face and tossing him off. He quickly stood up and tried to go over to his love, to comfort her. Until Arthur knocked him into the water, wrestling and fighting in the shallow part of the lake.
"You don't have to do this!" Francis yelled, deflecting Arthur's punches.
"You don't deserve her! You'll just leave in a few years!" Arthur yelled back, catching Francis off guard he grabbed him by his ponytail and pulled him close. "You're nothing more than a pathetic waste of breath, a useless excuse for a man, you'll never amount to anything." Arthur smirked," I'll find great pleasure in ending you, frog, something I should've done a long time ago." And with that Arthur wrapped the rope around Francis' neck, pulling it tight as Francis struggled for air. He scratched at Arthur's arms, a pleading look in his eyes.
"Please," he croaked," we were friends." Arthur scoffed.
"Were being the keyword." He tightened the rope and pushed Francis back into the water, watching as his body splashed against the water. Arthur panted as he watched the bubbles slowly disappear. He turned towards [great grandmothers name], her face in shock and horror, a silent scream painted her lips as the tears never stopped falling. He went over to her and grabbed her arm.
"Come on, we have a wedding to plan." He pulled her back to her house to tell her father the good news about Francis.
I was pulled back into reality, tears rolling down my cheeks as I stared at Francis. The same tears bubbling at the corner of his eyes.
"Don't believe those rumors....she did nothing." Francis said, vanishing from sight. The door unlocked and opened as I slowly regained my bearings. I left and went back to the kitchen, the tears continuing to flow as I went back to making dinner. I had no idea.