Heart of a Flea (Lucille x Francœur)

Heart of a Flea

Such a delicate and lovely voice. Like a feather on a dove's fragile wing. Like her first gaze that she set upon him, with a caring auburn stare. He watched from the back of the room as she hummed and sung about, organizing the dressing room for tonight's performance. Francœur was beyond nervous, for reasons currently unknown, and from stealing stares, Lucille easily took notice. It wasn't too often that her flea friend took to any other emotion besides curiosity and happiness. Sometimes fear if a rude Parisian came across them, or a tourist caught sight of them walking through town.

Setting her gloved hand on a vase filled with two crimson red roses, that Francœur had very kindly bought from the market for her, on her vanity, she then turned towards him, placing her hands on her hips.

"Alright, Francœur," she spoke in her thick French accent. "What's going on with you? You seem so nervous tonight."

As she made a notion to Francœur's shaking leg, the male flea just looked towards the ground, tapping his twelve fingers together. Honestly, he wished to tell her what was on his mind. About tonight, about the plan, but he couldn't. Why? Because it would ruin the surprise! And even if it was a surprise out of the goodness of his heart, it felt terrible to be keeping a secret from Lucille, but luckily he was unable to lie since the only response he could give were a few chirps.

After getting a shrug in reply to her question, and not getting eye contact either, a bit of concern rose on her porcelain face. He never avoided eye contact with her. The last time he did was the first time they met. Still, even today, she felt bad for the way she acted, fainting in his presence and screaming in his face (not to mention the slap). Lucille pressed her lips together and moved over beside him on the couch, settling her hand down on the shoulder of his white coat, his glowing orange-red eyes looking over at Lucille in defeat.

"Is everything alright? Did something happen?"

A slight purring chirp exited his mouth as he shrugged on the first question - froze for a moment - then shook his head.

Sighing, Lucille understood he didn't want to talk about it. "Okay, Francœur, but listen, I want you to know if you even need to talk about anything, I'm always here to listen, okay?" she spoke, standing up and turning towards him, putting her small hand on his cheek and patted it gently.

Her smile was something that brought warmth to the world. That rid of any doubtful chill or wariness. That shattered the plaguing darkness that inks through cracks of hopeful hearts. Bright white teeth, and a small gap, her smile even was able to bring Francœur's little, sweet smile to existence.

After getting Francœur to smile, she felt a sweet warmness in her heart. "Alright, now let's get ready. The show's about to start!"

With that sentence, Francœur felt his heart leap out from his chest, but he soon calmed as he felt the closer presence of Lucille as she tied a white mask around his head, and settled a hat upon his head. His mandibles adjusting a bit, he smiled towards Lucille before she helped him up, helping him put in two hands in each glove.

The angel finished fixing her hair before Francœur went over and opened the door for her, allowing her to exit. She thanked him as she walked in front of the flea, her hips moving from side to side as she strutted in her skinny white dress. Francœur felt his heart race faster and faster, his mouth going dry. As Lucille stopped at the curtains along side him, he was surprised as he felt a hand grab his coat.

"Francœur," she said, looking up at him with a faint smile. "Don't worry, okay?"

He let out a few nervous clicks as he nodded towards her. Taking his guitar in both hands, he felt himself shake. Stop, Francœur. Stop acting so nervous. Just believe it's a normal night, alright?