Flaneur ✅💋

14. Obliger

April 17, 1942

It was difficult to fall asleep the night prior, but somehow she managed. Waltz had been a dear, curling beside her on her pillow and being still for once in his energetic life. She'd fallen asleep, void of all makeup, knowing she would only smear it all and stain her pillows once the tears began to flow.

Missing. Belle was missing.

Only hours had passed before she was roused. At first, she was annoyed. Waltz had been so good for so long that when she heard him growling and barking she had assumed he was just out to pester her. "Will you stop that!" She swatted him with a pillow. He yelped and scampered off the bed, his nails clacking all the way out the bedroom door and down the stairs.

Out the door. She distinctly remembered shutting her door as she did every night before bed. Her heart began to beat faster, forcing her to sit up and investigate the oddity. It was dark, night cloaking her room, but the wind was pushing the branches away from her window so the moon could illuminate the area with slivers of silver light. Nothing seemed out of place as far as she could see. She slipped out of bed and padded over to the door, peeking around the corner to see if anyone was there. Nothing.

She crept down the stairs, careful not to make a sound. Waltz was gone, undoubtedly to the pool house to snuggle up to Noemi. She could hear the wind howling louder the closer she got to the bottom. The front door was wide open. A few leaves and sprinkles of dirt had blown in and decorated the floor, swirling around her bare feet. Not a sound could be heard throughout the large home, save for the rustling of leaves from outside. She scanned the entryway for a sign of anything out of the ordinary. Her tables were still immaculately clean and in order, the drawers were shut, and the flowers in the vases hadn't been disturbed. No footprints marred her freshly waxed floors. Not a single fiber of her furniture had been disarranged.

"Putain de vent!" she huffed as she shut the door and locked it behind her. She checked the backdoor and made a single round to each room just to be safe. Nothing. Sighing, and beyond exhausted, she crept back up the stairs with less stealth, ready to get some rest without Waltz yapping at the wind.

It seemed like her bedroom was miles away for how long it took her to get back up the stairs. Her eyes half hooded, she strolled through her doorway intent on flopping down face first on her bed. The sound of the door slamming behind her made every hair on her body raise as she whipped around. "Nicolas!" She gasped upon seeing him propped against her door with his hand still on the eggshell painted wood. His face gave nothing away, his usual sinister smile plastered on with his dimples on full display. "What are you doing here at this hour?" She kept her voice remarkably unwavering under the circumstances. He seemed like another person when he spoke German. The musical language of the French made him appear somewhat tame, but seeing his shadowy figure closing in on her reminded her just what type of devil he was.

He pushed away from the door and clasped his hands behind his back. He was dressed in his usual black uniform, his skull and bones cap upon his blonde head. She felt severely under dressed in her silk robe and hair pinned up in curlers. "I was patrolling nearby, and thought I'd pop in to surprise you." He walked terrifyingly slow to her, touching one of the purple curlers in her hair with an amused smirk. "Did I surprise you, Bärchen?"

Genevieve swallowed, hoping he didn't notice her nerves. "I'd say so. I'm not accustomed to officers hiding behind doors, as you can imagine," she replied in his native tongue and attempted a smile for him, but it felt awkward.

He chuckled lowly and dropped his hand from her hair. "Perhaps it is just German officers you are not accustomed to seeing."

"I beg your pardon?" Her brows furrowed.