Flaneur ✅💋

15. Excuses et Perte

April 18, 1942

"Should anything happen to me, I want you to have Waltz," Genevieve informed Noemi. The girl had been brewing her afternoon tea for her to sip outside in the sunshine when Genevieve had taken her aside.

"Where are you going?" she queried with a nervous lilt to her voice.

"It has come to my attention that I may or may not be expecting a visit from the Gestapo. I'm not quite sure what that will entail, but I wanted you to be prepared. Should it happen, and I not return, I'd like you to care for Waltz. My home will be yours." Noemi's brown eyes glittered with tears. "I'm trusting you to keep this between us for the time being. Nothing is for certain, so no need to worry the others."

"Of course." The servant cleared her throat.

"Merci." Genevieve patted her hand gently, taking the teacup from her trembling grasp and sipping on the hot beverage. Noemi nodded solemnly and went back to her work in the kitchen. Genevieve reclined on her lounge chair in the backyard. The tea was too hot to drink right away so she settled for sunbathing while the weather was nice. Her eyes closed and her mind emptied of all negativity for a few well deserved minutes of peace and quiet. After all, it could very well be some of her last moments spent in the world, and she'd be damned if she left it without sunbathing in Paris.

The sun beamed down bright through her eyelids. She turned her head to the side to avoid the light and possibly catch up on sleep that she had been missing. The colonel hadn't made contact with her after his assault, but instead blessed her with a single day of solitude to think over everything. She found herself thinking back to that night. Stewing on it. She had been weak, let her body speak for her, and it churned her stomach.

She groaned, frustrated at her own lack of control. Sitting up she slipped off her halter top and let her breasts get the full attention of the sun to avoid any tan lines that could mar her perfection. The servants were busy working in the house, taking a break from the heat for the day and allowing her to be alone. She rolled onto her stomach and lifted her hair above her head to let the sun hit every part of her back.

Her bliss lasted less than a dozen or so minutes before clouds blocked the sun and gave her chills at the sudden drop in temperature. She hummed in defeat and flipped onto her back, changing position for when the sun peeked back out. Her breathing was soft and relaxed, placid, readying for the nap that would soon take her. She tried to rest her mind, but the sun refused to come back out. She sat up, restless, and opened her eyes.

"Shit!" The colonel stood over her, blocking out the sun that blazed in the cloudless blue sky. Her hands instinctively went to her breasts to cover them from his hungry gaze.

"A bit late for modesty isn't it?" He tossed her the discarded red top for her to cover up with. She put it on as quickly as she could manage.

"What are you doing here?" she spat at him, grabbing her tea to hide the scowl on her face.

Nicolas smirked, looking over her body without shame. "I thought you should know that I've concluded my investigation against Hilda. I've also found you innocent in any involvement regarding her acts. It would seem she was just a civilian merely trying to be a vigilante." That peaked her interest. Relief flooded through her that the German secret police wouldn't be pounding on her door anytime soon, but that still left the fate of Belle.

"How shocking." The words tumbled out dry and heated. "Its almost as though I already told you that I had nothing to do with her stupidity," she answered in French, not caring to sit through another conversation with him in the German tongue. Her tone was kept bored, unimpressed by his revelation. It was hardly a question whether or not Belle would out anyone. Of course she would claim she was working alone. Any good spy would have done the same, but she couldn't deny that the thought of the colonel interrogating her friend made her a bit nervous. He did hold quite the reputation for getting what he wanted, and a confession from Belle would be paramount to him. Thoughts drifted back to his assault. Had he performed a similar inquiry with Belle? Had he thrown her friend to the floor and taken a shred of her dignity as he had with her?