Kiss me if you dare [ENGLISH]

Chapter 4

Fleur

The flowery wallpaper in the living room was undoubtedly the finest in the apartment - silver-colored roses contrasting against a pastel green background. It always reminded Fleur of when she and her dad had put it up together. She remembered all the trouble they had struggled through to finish - the glue that had ended up everywhere on the floor and the deformed lines of paper strips that didn't stick where they should. When they had finally completed the work, they discovered that it was upside down. Yet, Fleur found a certain charm in it nonetheless, that is, until now. She didn't know if she would ever be able to look at it again without the image of his wonderful face forming in her mind and forcing her further into darkness.

It had been just over a week since the incident, and Fleur had spent the last seven days on the couch with a blanket over her and a glass of water on the table. People had called to talk, offered condolences, and sent gifts, but Fleur had turned them all away. She understood they meant well, but the tragic accident was unfathomable, and deep down, she denied that it had even happened. She still waited for him to appear in the hallway to give her a huge hug. Oh, how much she needed that.

The news had probably reached the whole town by now, and she was aware that she could no longer go outdoors and to public places without causing reactions. Fleur didn't want anyone's pity and comfort. It wouldn't make any difference anyway.

The doorbell rang in the distance, and she didn't move a muscle - not even when the lock turned and footsteps approached. She didn't need to check, she knew in advance that it was Gabriel. Since Friday, he had visited her once a day to leave food and other essentials she hadn't been able to buy herself. It was appreciated, of course, but at the same time, she didn't expect him to carry her burden on his shoulders. Fleur had no idea how long it would take to piece her life back together, but she didn't want to depend on Gabriel in any case.

A loud thud sounded as the bags of food hit the kitchen floor. The following seconds were filled with the sounds of the fridge and freezer opening and closing at regular intervals.

"Gabriel." Even though he was busy, he heard her call and immediately entered the living room. Beads of sweat on his forehead and his chest rising and falling rapidly indicated that he had hurried to the apartment.

She tilted her head and met his gaze. "You don't have to do this. Patricia is probably wondering why you keep leaving so often."

He waved dismissively with his hand and placed a cup of tea on the table. "She's hardly ever home anyway. Besides, you need all the help you can get right now."

Fleur was about to argue when her phone's screen lit up, as it always did when a call was incoming.

"You can answer if you want..." she mumbled, focusing on a green cushion in the other corner of the sofa.

Gabriel stood still for a while - immobile, but then he picked up the phone. She observed his face as he listened to the voice on the other end, trying to decipher it. Whoever it was, she doubted it was a friend.

"I understand..." Gabriel concluded before hanging up and handing her the phone. "It was the coroner. They're asking if you want... to go there for the sake of the investigation."

Fleur sat up straight on the couch in an instant, feeling her thoughts once again overwhelming her.

"I know it's not possible given the circumstances..."

"Take me there," she interrupted, barely having time to consider what it would entail before the words were out.

"But..."

"Please."

Gabriel looked at her intently. She understood why he hesitated, but for some reason, it was important. However, Fleur had a feeling it would be tough, and she refused to reflect on how her body would react to the sight. However, seeing him cleaned up was convincing enough. She was willing to do anything to erase the image of the bloody body with a half-open mouth - filled with white powder that haunted her both day and night. It wasn't the last thing she wanted to remember.