Paris Monsieur in Gotham) [DISCONTINUED]

(Chapter 21)

The duck breast looked tender and juicy, the dressing of pomegranate-citrus glaze no doubt an experience for the taste buds.

Yet, Marcel still couldn’t find it in himself to be hungry for the meal.

“Is everything alright, Master Marcel?” he straightened at the British accented voice nearby and turned to see Alfred looking at him inquisitively.

“Is the meal not to your liking?” Alfred asked, noticing he’s barely touched his food.

“Wha- no, no, it’s fine. It’s delicious! I’m just…not used to eating fancy food.” He said.

But that wasn’t the truth.

Everytime Alfred was close by Marcel could just…..feel something thrum from inside the butler. Now that he wasn’t so tense from the prospect of meeting the Waynes, he’s taken notice of it.

It was faint and old but there was no denying that that….feeling, that thrum of something originating from Alfred was similar to Master Fu’s which gobsmacked Marcel.

Does Alfred know Master Fu? His mentor never mentioned him to Marcel and Marcel’s positive that old age or not, Master Fu would never forget such crucial information; much less not tell Marcel considering the fact that he’s his successor.

“If you like, I can prepare a dish more suited to your tastes.” Alfred offered.

“It’s fine!” Marcel replied a bit too hurriedly. “Uh- thank you for the meal!” he stumbled before giving him a smile too wide and a wave too wild.

‘Smooth, Mar. Reeeeeeal smooth.’ He can handle the Waynes but not their butler……wow.

Alfred just looked at him and the intensity of his stare did not calm his nerves in the slightest. It was like he was staring straight into Marcel’s soul- and he thought Bruce Wayne’s stare was intense!

Then Dahlia strode in and Marcel felt his breath taken away.

There she was, proudly wearing the outfit he made her- a cape blazer with a fern green interior and golden buttons, dahlia flowers in various shades of vibrant green embroidered on the base over the black halter neck jumpsuit that adorned her body as naturally as petals on a flower.

She strode into the room, proud as a tiger and shot him an alluring smile.

Is this what dying and going to heaven feels like? Man, he’s cheesy.

Jason whistled, Dick cooed at his youngest sister, Stephanie clapped, and Cass raised a brow while both of Tim’s brows rose.

“Didn’t know you had an outfit like that.” Tim remarked.

“And you would know the contents of my wardrobe now, wouldn’t you, Drake?” Dahlia said coolly.

“Bish, I know your shoe size and if I wanted to, I could calculate the size of your undergarments right here and now.” Tim deadpanned.

“Yeah Timmy, that last part wasn’t weird at all.” Jason groaned with a facepalm.

At least Tim had the audacity to look a bit ashamed at his lack of tact. Marcel tried not to dwell on it least hormones kick his mind to less than innocent places.

“Who designed it?” Dick asked, desperately trying to change the subject.

“Guess.” Dahlia teased.

Cass- always the one for action rather than words- walked towards her and began inspecting her attire with keen eyes. Her eyes wandered over the embroidery of the dahlia flowers. Narrowing her focus, she leaned closer, tilting her head somewhat.