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his hand grabbed her, the sensation stopping her in her tracks. tears sprung to the corner of her eyes, and she took a steadying breath before she turned back to henri. her expression was mournful, as obvious as the dagger he'd drove in to her still beating heart. whatever negatives she'd thought of her family in the past, it was all overshadowed by the mere fact that she could not have them. absentminded and inconsiderate were still synonyms for love when the real definition had revealed itself to be control.
"if you know all that," her voice is only a whisper, fervent with unhappiness. she pulls her wrist down to her side, shielding his grasp from a watchful eye. "why do you have to say it?" now, when she thought they were supposed to be entertaining the feeling of normality, if only for a few hours.
but she's been quickly chastened from her act of rebellion, whatever spark that had caused her reaction was put out by their eye contact. is she safe? does she feel unharmed? what is there left to say except to answer the question that's been asked, the surface of their conversation which might extend until she bleed out from pain, offering that dagger to be twisted in deeper. "i didn't want a party like this."
it was these small moments where elisabeth was seized by fervor that left him with a fleeting sense of hunger. it was a peek behind the curtain, a tease of something he had been chasing their entire relationship. he had spent years winding and unwinding her in an attempt to create the women he knew she could be.
obedient&&vulnerable &&passionate&&intense&& docile&&confident&&possessive
his jaw slackened in surprise at her outburst and henri watched this development play out with renewed interest in elisabeth. it only took a few steps to close the distance between them and henri quickly grasped a hand around her wrist. a chain holding her in place.
he waited until she turned to face him and looked down at her with a stern expression. "no, i dont." which had been why he'd asked ( at least partially why he'd asked. he'd expected the question would upset her ). "i know that your parents are absentminded and inconsiderate. i know that your brother and sister were the topic of every conversation."
"but i also know that your parents loved you." it was a genuine question of... how much? yes elisabeth certainly had birthday parties growing up, cake, balloons, presents. but had any of them been what she'd wanted? what she'd asked for? did they listen to her? "and for all their shortcomings they trusted me to keep you safe." which he had, hadn't he? always.
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no meant the possibility that something could go wrong. as though it was within her control to choose the other people in her life, in her family's life. it was not, the panic of being held responsible for actions he could not even begin to predict. she had what she'd asked for, the chance to see her siblings, however fleeting the party might turn out to be. still, he asks for her best behavior and she's obliged to give it.
"it was an accident." she chimes in, without thought, though there's never been evidence presented on either side of the debate. she chooses to believe in the best in her brother, or perhaps the worst in his casualness. she almost meets her own statement with an apology, but sticks her landing— barely. her only caveat, is in who might have a key to their space and watch the fish, "who would you like to do it?"
"no" he replied honestly, not particularly caring enough to look further into it. whoever clemintine's fiancée was he would be a minor character in henri and elisabeth's story and likely irrelevant in the big picture. depending on how the party went henri could look into him but with elisabeth visiting her family less than a handful of times per year there seemed little potential for trouble.
his hands slipped from her body as he stepped away to glance outside of the window in their kitchen. the world outside was dark and quiet. "we'll just have to be on our best behavior and make a good first impression." the words were a double-edged sword, tinted with meaning. behave. "we'll have to find someone to feed the fish." they obviously wouldn't be making the trip. and elisabeth would hate to come home and find them floating in their own feces. the issue seemed grossly domestic. it almost brought a smile from him. "and if your brother 'accidently' throws a dart at me again i'm kicking his ass this time." but not killing him. they were family after all.
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she studied the tray with interest, as though the secrets of the universe were to be discerned in each flake of pastry. or perhaps, she was only holding onto this moment of solace as it was given. a companionable silence, not yet marred by her clumsy words. who was she to disagree with coin-toss odds, to say she knew women that she'd hardly been able to carry on a conversation with. rosie was not the best baker in their estimation, but there were many other kind things the woman did.
her stomach churned, caught only by his next question. it is not about the sandwiches, but again the rehashing of her family. the lines of inquiry had been barely torably before, but now all they bring is the reminder of loss. she does not have them, and she may never get to them now. if only they'd left for her sister's a day early, a month early, any of the times she'd asked.
without thinking she reached out and hit the confetti out of his hand, sending the gold shimmer to the floor. there was little doubt that the shock had caused it, not any strength on her part. but it floated all the same. "you know the answer to that." her voice a choked whisper, her wound opened all the same. she turned for the door of the diner so she might find space away from consequence, "we were having a nice time."
the third name rose minor interest in henri as he was surprised to see the former had finally allowed another to join them in the kitchen. there was a hint of an opportunity there if henri ( or sada, as he was currently following her lead out of curiosity ) needed someone to have access to the food prep. elisabeth would easily fit in with the other women.
henri could see little discernable difference between two of the tables but the one elisabeth had first indicated appeared overbaked and crumbly. "not rosie." he offered objectively. "the others are probably a coin toss." henri tapped a finger against the nearest table before sliding it across the white table clothe and collecting small shards of confetti against his finger tip. he rubbed the golden shimmers between his finger and thumb as a question formed in his mind.
"did your parents ever throw you a birthday party you actually enjoyed?"
did they try as hard as me? did they know you as well i as do? did they even pretend to care?
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oui oui
Send ♮and I will place my music player on shuffle to make a playlist to represent each of the following listed below. @henrisolivier
a song that represents our muses in general: la métaphore, jacques dutronc
a song that represents what elisabeth thinks of henri: soleil soleil, pomme
a song that represents what henri thinks of elisabeth: baby c'est vous, sylvie vartan
their theme song if they ever fell in love: tous les garçons et les filles - slow, françoise hardy
their theme song if they were to become enemies: non, je ne regrette rien, édith piaf
what my muse would sing or play at your muses funeral: la mer, charles trenet
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his question is nice, thoughtful, a joke, however slight, presents an answer that she can give without right or wrong as ever-present concerns. it was as though it was not the end of the world that she had been out of his sight for two days. he'd had yet to bring much of the situation up, which led her to the conclusion that either he trusted her (hard earned, finally finally) or that he didn't care (lost interest, next next). and of the two, she did not know which was the worse fate.
in the end it didn't matter how long the macaroons or the sandwiches took, because she wasn't going to eat many of them, sick with thought. "two days." her response parallels his own, the inverse of hours— though the tone isn't right. she remains grave in her delivery, as though it were not humor at all. "rosie, charlotte, and emily." she pointed at each of the trays of colorful pastries, as though guessing who had done what would make all the difference in how long it took to organize and set out. "suppose we know which is the best baker?"
you would be forgiven for assuming the evening's celebration was for a spoilt child and not the patriarch of the building's namesake. video games, ping pong, and karaoke? henri was, as typical, unimpressed with the festivities. he nearly expected to see a red-nosed clown making balloon animals.
as ridiculous as it all was henri was thankful for a change of pace, if nothing else. it seemed the only break in monotony the building was ever given came at the expense of their safety--the bats, for instance--which had left him with little choice but send elisabeth away until he felt confident he wasn't a uncontrolled threat to her.
she'd returned with little fanfare and the party had postponed any meaningful conversation about her sojourn with maddie. and perhaps that was for the best considering henri wasn't quite sure how he felt about the situation yet.
"hm?" he'd been looking over the room and taking in the familiar & unfamiliar faces. he realized what she'd asked and looked at the long rows of confections. henri picked one up between his fingers and gave it a soft squeeze watching as the outer shell gave but did not crumble. "probably an evening or two," satisfied that it wasn't utter shit, he put it into his mouth and determined that it was--like most things in this building--mediocre. "how long do you think the sandwiches took?" he joked in return.
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who: @jeremiah-rose
where: the w
when: mr. wexley's birthday party
her hands are clasped in front of her on the table, her glass of red wine has been untouched since it was poured for her. and now her husband remains in conversation with sada, leaving her as the odd one out.
she shouldn't say odd, shouldn't think it. there's nothing wrong with the relationship. henri had assured her as much when she'd attempted to ask. they were merely old friends, and she was not to eavesdrop or wait with anything but tireless patience. she could leave the bar of course, but as always always always— where was she to go?
which leaves jeremiah now stuck with her, their dates having apparently so quickly lost interest in those they'd arrived with. she glanced up from her hands for just a moment, resignation and dejection across her face as she finally spoke: "quite the party."
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who: @henrisolivier
where: rosie's diner
when: mr. wexley's birthday party
she'd found most people gravitated towards the atrium or the bar. they didn't care for all the plates that had been set out in precise order at rosie's. she liked the organization that had gone into it. she too had made sure that she did her hair and make-up, using colors that hadn't been seen since the island closed down.
was it a hallmark of the couple that they'd been, or perhaps still the one the residents all thought they were that she'd taken the time. that she'd wear the dress he'd selected and allow him to fasten the pearl necklace around her neck for such an occasion. look even now, she'd said happy birthday with polite conversation and hadn't even once glanced across the room at sada.
still, she finds the conversations that she might want to have with her husband stilted in her mind. her throat closes around asking anything of meaningful substance in public or the like. instead, the silence stretches before she says: "how long do you think the macaroons took?"
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it was polite to say happy birthday to the host, to thank them for their hospitality, and in this case generosity of service. it was as though they had stepped into a version of the building long past, where people still mulled about with the freedom to drink and eat what they wanted. what luxury, what celebration.
"you hadn't, had a party before?"
Where: The W When: 7 pm Who: Open
"I have to admit... thought it may be strange to be celebrated like this... it is nice." Savouring the whiskey on his tongue before swallowing it back, Tobias looked over to his newly joined companion at the bar and lifted his glass in gratitude of their birthday wishes. "I honestly think a night like this will be good for everyone, we all deserve to let loose a little, blow off some steam."
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elisabeth olivier's party outfit (and drink of choice for the evening)
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What's the worst movie for someone to say they wanna watch to "get in the mood"?
to be polite, as above so below. now, please, please if you could, don't ask me any questions like this again.
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her chin is corrected, gaze steadied from where it had been consumed with carnage moments before. she's as pliant as ever, her eyes focused on his own even as the pupils widen and her breath is still heavy in her chest. she would nod if the effort didn't feel so much like fighting, she would graciously accept if the words could find their way without trembling dismal syllables. perhaps because she doesn't want a mutual understanding, or because she doesn't believe that sada has safety anywhere in her mind.
"i know." words just as practiced as her apologies, flowing just as soon as she is reminded that she is safe protected loved cherished. they are not flippant in tone, they have learned their reverent quailities well. she doesn't continue on voicing the same tired thoughts of anxiety, instead choosing to believe, or to facilitate believing, whichever will stem the hemorrhage.
to be interested in her husbands' life, to ignore her own instincts which had been so clear. "h-how long have you been friends?" as thought the veracity of a relationship might be tested through something such as dates, locations. mutuality only held weight among the old and the loyal, those still too scared to move from the hand on her neck.
no physical pain could cut deeper than the hurt elisabeth was capable of causing him. it wasn't intentional; she did not carefully sharpen her words before saying them. sometimes elisabeth was just.. thoughtless.
his palm remained open to her. an offering of forgiveness. perhaps he's picking up something that's not entirely there but henri perceives her comments as a sign of interest; he decides it will be their olive branch. "no, you really didn't." he assures her with a practiced sigh. "she's exactly as you think she is." perhaps worse, but henri didn't think adding that would help his situation right now.
"but she won't cause us issues," there's a certainty that indicates an intimate history. henri's free hand rises in her direction and comes to caress the underside of her chin, holding her in his hand. "she's an old friend. we have a mutual understanding." sada was a remarkable woman, a rare creature that reflected the inner machinations of himself better than henri ever thought possible. but he would throw it away without second thought if made to choose.
henri's grasp loosened and his fingers traced down the hollow of her throat until they rested at her collar bone. "and that understanding includes keeping you safe."
a commitment. a promise. a vow.
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while rosie's offer was kind, it did little to dissuade her from her agenda. the last thing she needed was to stay in the diner and try and come up with small talk for the diner owner. she had so little in common with anyone besides henri, and she doubting that these ever despairing circumstances they were all finding themselves in.
"i'm— thank you, but yes. i am." her gaze skittered across the different surfaces of the diner before alighting on the door. she stepped towards it, nodding a polite if not curt goodbye. "thank you."
many people could appear timid when compared to rosie's social butterfly personality. but elisabeth really was reserved. rosie wondered if it was a lifelong , or something she adopted to deal with the state of the city. well, world. henri seemed... commanding enough to make decisions for the both of them. was that new too?
she wrote a little note and doodled a flower next to it on her notepad to remind herself the next batch of cookies would include lavender. she'd be rolling in it to calm her nerves if they had enough. there were lavender fields upstate . . . maybe one day they could all go together.
"are you sure ?" she tried not to sound needy. the diner was empty and had been for a couple of hours. charlie wouldn't be back for another hour to start dinner preparations. "I mean -- I won't force you to stay or anything, but you don't need to eat to hang around."
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the tense of her muscles is less than a quiver, the smallest of movements if they were even felt at all. it had been years and years of teaching herself to relax, to stop the immediate stiffness that had first seemed to seize her. hands which had killed so many, resting now on her skin. it had seemed so dangerous, it had never since proven to be the case.
she waited a breath before pressing on. "did you meet, do you know anything about her boyf- her partner." it could be a deciding factor, and one that she wanted to avoid so long as they could continue such a positive conversation. she couldn't control an entire invite list of people but she could do her best do press on. there was less resistance than she'd been expecting, causing the same amount of tripping apprehension as though he'd come to her with questions. "since, since it's a long trip."
he continued to be impressed by her gall. how long had she been chewing this over, practicing her arguments? the woman sitting at his table seemed a far cry from the one who typically occupied her chair. henri's head tilted to the side as he watched her lips, how despite the occasional pause she didn't trip over her words as so she often did when trying to warm him to an idea. it exhilarated him. it.. scared him.
but he could... use this.
allow her this, bend to her desires despite his obvious disinterest in the idea. and once they returned he could make his own demands--remind her how charitable he'd been. "it would be beautiful this time of year." henri agreed, abandoning the dishes in the sink with a soft clink and coming to stand behind her. he put his hand on the back of her neck. no pressure. just a reminder of his presence. "a party. a dinner. whatever the case, i suppose we could manage a day or two."
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👥 - henri, kiss kiss
@henrisolivier
contrary to what people would assume, she does get him a birthday and anniversary present every year. its usually only a single gift, and more often than not something antique. but, she knows the dates well. she has never gone so far as to make reservations herself or plan a party, but perhaps if they had stayed in france she would have come around to the idea.
in the months right have the incident at the catacombs she was positive that he was going to kill her. every move she made felt like the final act between her life and death. it was paralyzing and all-encompassing. it took years for the feeling to subside.
french had not been her first choice to fulfill the university's foreign language requirement. she had taken latin in high school and was thinking of continuing. but her older sister recommended french with professor olivier, and as with most things she was happy to follow her older sibling's lead.
after their second week in new york she realized how much she had liked living in france. she had been clinging to the idea of seeing her family as a last well of enthusiasm. it was that or succumb to the fact that maybe she had finally grown used to married life after all this time. she was going to tell him, but then the lockdown happened and she could no longer see straight through the new enclosed panic.
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👥 Her Fish
she didn't originally think she wanted fish, but after a day spent wandering around the aquarium, it seemed like a natural fit for her lifestyle. they demanded less from her than another pet would do, but were still hers all the same.
she's come to enjoy the time that taking care of the tank takes out of her day. she's gotten good at making a fresh water change take almost an hour of her time.
sometimes gets very worried about what would happen if one of them were to get sick and leave the other one behind. she doesn't know where to get a new fish in this current environment, and can't bear the thought of one of them being alone.
believes their favorite flavor food is blue.
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👥 Sada Vang
@sadavang
she's never personally seen violence from sada. as a result, while she is apprehensive about the other woman, she has started to feel a low-grade tension set in. as though henri has earned the right to his torment, compared to sada's games. what this builds to, not even she could say.
known to quickly exit a room as soon as sada enters it. sometimes this is as obvious as making a u-turn in the middle of the atrium in order to avoid even having to make eye contact.
sada is one of the few people who knows she speaks french fluently, she would prefer to keep it that way. she despises having to hear herself speak it.
throws out anything that's purported to be from sada. whether a gift or something more simple, it can all go in the trash.
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