Porcelain

25

"Where is Eleanor?"

"She's at home," Fleurette said, her answer seemed to make her cry even more. "She does not know what has happened."

"I am sure though that someone has been sent to tell her." Erik moved his head away from leaning against hers. Putting her at arm's length, he looked at her. "You should be with her."

"I want to be with you." Fleurette said quietly.

Shaking his head slowly Erik looked down at the floor and then slowly up at her. "I cannot share this grief with you. I cannot mourn his death, Fleurette. You need to go to your sister." Erik said seriously. It was the truth, he could not mourn the loss of Lucien's life considering the man irritated him.

"Aren't people meant to comfort others when they've lost someone close to them? Why do you push me away?"

"You wish to stay down here, do you truly?"

"Yes."

"Even though your sister is somewhere grieving without you?"

"She has Felix, he will comfort her more than I ever could." Fleurette said bitterly, Erik let out a slow sigh. He had to admit comforting was not one of his strong suits. But also, it was clear he was not winning this argument, or rather he was losing persuading her to return to her remaining family.

"Will you stay here while I make a quick journey to see what is happening upstairs?" He questioned simply, Fleurette looked at him doubtfully yet nodded slowly. He smiled lightly and placed a hand on top of her head. His fingers glided through the red curls, standing up he turned and walked in the direction of the boat.

Although, perhaps being on her own was not the wisest thing. Fleurette sat with her knees drawn up to her chest, leaning her head against them, she shut her eyes. All she had in her mind was the steady downfall of Lucien and her own father daughter relationship. The previous times they had got together, he had done idiotic things which he thought were right, and she'd been so blunt in her actions and in her words.

It was too much, her mind was reeling. Jumping off of the bed and almost falling over in the process, Fleurette walked down towards the organ. She needed something to do, something, anything, to take her mind off of what was going on in her head. Frowning and pressing down on the keys she shook her head. Repressing feelings was never a wise idea.

Her fingers glided over the keys, although she wasn't wholly paying attention to what she was playing. Her eyes had glazed over and were staring out at the dark lake in front of her. Blinking and looking down she removed her hands from the instrument. She was sitting playing a lullaby that her mother used to play on her piano. Watching the boat reappear through the drifting fog, Fleurette slowly stood up and walked over. Erik jumped out and looked blankly at her before walking past her and sitting down at his desk. Turning on her heels she walked over to him.

"What happened?" Erik didn't answer her at first and sat looking down at the books which littered the flat surface. Fleurette crouched down and looked up at him, slowly he looked away from the books and pieces of paper and looked at her. She reached up and placed her hands over his when he rested it against her cheek.

"There are hushed words happening above us." Erik said eventually, Fleurette looked up at him waiting for him to continue. He removed his hand from under hers and stood up. Walking around the crouching woman by his side he turned suddenly on his heels and looked back at her.

Fleurette stood up and straightened out her skirt. "Hushed words?"

"Lies," Erik spoke the word with a bitter tone to his voice. Fleurette was a little taken back by his tone, her eyes widened a little from his words too.