fate | CL fanfic

four

April 16th:

For the next two weeks we were like two ships passing in the night, aware of each others presence but not bothering to interact much. We don't hate another, it's not hostile I mean we both got the short end of the stick. There's no reason to hate him, it isn't his fault. We just live here, together.

Well that's what I've been told by his maids that come into my room to bargain with me every day.

As I walked into the kitchen on the middle floor, the sun was shining into the window with a bright glare, "Hi, sleep well?" He asked as he sat at the table with a plate of fruit and a coffee in hand.

"Alright." I nodded, walking to the cupboard to grab cutlery and a glass. Our conversations were minimal and the only time I really saw him in the house was the kitchen. The building was huge, much bigger than mine in Paris. Six floors and the rooms were endless. I was discovering new ones daily.

"Mhm," he mumbled in response "I made you toast, it's in the warming draw.. you've eaten it like every day you've been here so I just went ahead-

"Thanks." I replied opening the draw and retrieving the plate of toast which also had jam on it how I like it, it was clear he'd accepted this cohabitation situation a while ago but this was still too much for me.

I sat down at the opposite end of the table to him, he was dressed already in a grey jumper and baggy blue jeans. No matter what he wore he looked posh. He had this rich sort of personality so no matter what he wore he seemed it, "You like art??." He randomly asked.

"Yeah I do like art." I nodded unsure why he was bringing it up or how he knew about my passion, the way I said it must've been rude by the way he raised his brows at my reply.

Why is he even talking to me this much?

"Look," he sighed "I'm just trying to make this a more comfortable space for the both of us.. it wouldn't hurt would it?"

I took a sip of my orange juice, "It's never going to be a comfortable space, you just go and do your business thing, at all times. I will do my thing."

"Okay whatever." He shrugged getting up from the table and his maid ran along to grab his plate and wash it, and like that, he was gone.

I let out a breathe and continued with my breakfast, this was all too much, I haven't left this fucking house in weeks, I'm hours from home, my father left me here and he's not fucking awful.

Is it bad I just wish he was horrible and I could pull that card to my father and he would pick me up but he's just not.

Honestly, It's a pain in the ass how fucking delightful he is.

I'm just trying to do my thing and he leaves me coffee in my room before his meetings and he sends me flowers to my room for no reason and it just infuriates me, I hate it. I hate him.

"Mrs Leclerc, would you like for someone to get the stain out of your pyjamas?" A maid asked referring to the orange juice I literally just spilt on my bottoms.

"Oh no, no it's fine." I said through greeted teeth.

Christ, if someone came to help me before I knew it Charles would be sending me thousands of new pyjamas to replace the ones that are perfectly fine, "You seem uncomfortable Mrs Leclerc." The maid commented.

Mrs Leclerc

I threw my head in my hands rather than bashing it against the table and simply shook my head, "No believe it or not, I'm not comfortable! I'm never going to feel comfortable in this bloody house.. and can you not for the love of god call me Mrs Leclerc."

"Oh I'm sorry Mrs- Miss Ashby."

"Don't apologise." I replied sighing, "I'm sorry."

"That's alright Miss, I can imagine it's hard. If you ask me I think you should head out and explore a bit, Monaco is charming when you really look at it," she nodded "You've been cooped up in here for ages."

I gritted my teeth, "I don't think I want to find it charming if I'm honest, it's not my home and I don't want it to be."

"Mr Leclerc has meetings from 9-12 and then from 1-4, maybe he could take you out. He knows the best places around.. think it would be nice." She suggested with a smile.

"I- I don't want to be close to him. It's not a him problem either it's me completely... I just hope if I'm distant enough he will give up and I can go home.." I admitted to the woman who instantly sat down besides me and opened her arms wide.

Her names Susannah and it's like she's been assigned to me or something, she follows me around the house and picks up after me like my personal assistant or something, "I know it's tough Miss Ashby, but it's hard for him too. I think it will help the both of you if you just try."

"I don't want to accept that this is it for me Susannah."

"He doesn't either, hence him making your toast this morning," She chuckled "I've worked here forty years and never have I seen him make toast for himself let alone someone else."

"You aren't helping me out Susannah." I chuckle, the more he's lovely to me the more it hurts

"Just give him a chance," she smiled "He's not horrible, he was raised right that boy. I don't know what you expected coming here but he will never do anything wrong to you. And he won't give up on this either."

"I'm starting to sense that."

"It was his father that made the deal with yours and since Herve passed, well he's done anything he could to make him proud, so as you can imagine, no matter how he really feels, he is doing this for his papa." Susannah told me as she got up and took my cup to rinse out in the sink.