Purcell's Pairings | ✔

XI

     "ANNIE."

     Annalise's breath felt caught in her throat as she stared at the figure in front of her, a gloved hand softly running down the middle of her throat and to the top of her chest, as if the gesture would soothe the soreness that had suddenly emerged within her. 

     "Honey," she croaked in return. Her cheeks turned red as she processed her words, and her bottom lip dangled open. "I mean—"

     But the words had already left her mouth. A mellifluous laugh filled the air, easing the tension Annie had begun to feel. "If we were going with terms of endearment, Miss. Purcell, I do prefer dear."

     Annie's whole face felt like it was on fire, and she didn't doubt it looked like it, too. She tugged at her glove, cringing ever-so-slightly as the fabric between her fingers pressed firmly against the skin like a knife against a solid surface. Wiggling her fingers to rid the tingling feeling, she dropped her gaze to the slightly wet floor beneath her dainty boots. Catching onto the silence that had drifted above them since his last words, Annie took it was her turn to speak. So, in a muffled tone, she returned, "What are you doing here, Mr. Bellegarde?"

     A loud gasp took her by surprise, and when Annalise cautiously moved her gaze upward, the young man, whose signature boyish grin had increased, had a hand placed across his chest, where his heart was located. Annalise was almost positive something along the lines of, "Since when had 'Mr. Bellegarde' become part of your vocabulary?" would break out, but Marius seemed to have moved past that opportunity, for his mouth offered, "How warm of you, Miss. Purcell," instead. When Annie shot him a somewhat quizzing look, he added in a more serious tone, "I've never been one to enjoy a cold beer, 'specially not in the heart of the winter season. A tea sounded far more refreshing. I hadn't expected to run into the famous Purcell sisters, though. What a sight it is, seeing all three of you here!"

     At this point, it had sunk into Annalise's mind that Esther and Maisie were still present, though Maisie had taken off towards the rows of baked goods the moment they entered the shop. She clearly had yet to see Marius. Esther had offered a polite curtsy, though that had shot right over Annalise's head, for she continued to openly stare at him, watching him like he was some strange new animal who couldn't yet be trusted. Or, better yet, a strange young man who was unreadable. Marius Bellegarde had always been an audacious, cheeky soul, but he could read people well, and Annie knew that hadn't changed the moment his smile fell from his lips. His eyes flickered down towards the floor in a helpless manner, then he glanced back up at her. The look he gave her made her heart flutter, but Annalise refused to give in easily. She cast a glance over his shoulder instead.

     "Annalise, may I have a quick word?" he asked. His words were soft, pleading, almost. He still knew what he was doing; he was good. That tone was different from his typical one, and she always caved. God, how he got to her with such little effort. Her eyes did flash in a certain direction this time, towards Maisie, but her sister's back was towards them and she was in deep conversation with the head baker, Mrs. Bell. Slowly, wordlessly, as if her entire shelf of sassy, quick-witted words had been sucked right out of her, Annie gave a single nod of her head. Marius shot Esther a quick, polite look, then gently curled his fingers around Annalise's elbow and carefully guided her outside. The chilly, fresh air of Mother Nature felt like a slap to her face, and Annie's full attention returned to her current situation. She looked at Marius, though wasn't exactly sure what she was expecting to leave his parted lips. In fact, it seemed as though not a single thought was running through her mind at that moment. Nothing more than a whiny complaint about how cold it was outside, but who was that to surprise?

     "Annalise," he began, and she cringed. Cringed because he was not referring to her as strictly Miss. Purcell, yet cringed because he wasn't calling her Annie, either. He carried on, his words formal, though warm; the pleasing bit of sunshine that maneuvered around the gloomy grey clouds. "I do not wish to make things awkward. I swear, my matching gem with Maisie's — Miss Purcell's — had nothing to do with any decisions made on my end. I find it quite amusing, really, t-though not because of, um..." His words died off sheepishly and he bit his lip to resist a guilty grin. Annie did nothing more than blankly stare back. "I feel I should apologize, for, well..."