Sorrow | 18+

26 Run

A song to listen to: 

Please Don't Let It Go By HIM

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Vivienne

I wasn't used to my name. Maman never called me by it. I was always her heart, her daughter. She didn't like my name I thought often. It was probably a name chosen by my father, who I had seen twice a year if I got lucky. The blood relatives who despised me used the name like I was meaningless. So I didn't want the name. Viv was finally made by Zara, the first person to ask what I wanted to be called.

I was reborn as everything burned down. My blood relatives died, the undesired fate and strict expectations with them. I didn't look back, I buried every connection to my old life. I got my name. I added my maman's name to it.

I heard the front door shut down. I could recognise Zero only by his footsteps, how his shoes hit the ground. The bubbling, joyful feeling that his proximity inflicted. However, I had not yet acquired the skill to notice his emotions through his footsteps.

"You're home already?", I shouted to the living room, my voice full of happiness. He was extremely early. The small pile of flower postcards I had collected over some time was spread out on the bed. I had bought pretty postcards from small shops, museum's boutiques, wherever flowers catched my eyes. This time they were supposed to be the inspiration for my next school project. I also wanted Zero's opinion, which one of them would be the prettiest. Maybe even use some designs for the wedding.

"I do still have some stuff to do but we may cuddle soon I promise", I continued chattering when his steps got closer. The trip of two weeks had got us closer if that was even possible. Nothing soothed us more than laying on the bed after the day, warming each other under the cover. It was very domestic but intimate in a special way.

Zero suddenly stopped a few steps behind me in silence. I could've sworn his harsh breathing was tickling my neck even with the distance. A small anxiety decided to travel through my skin. Something's wrong.

"Hey, did you hear me?" my question died on my lips as I turned around. I immediately wished I hadn't. A gun pointed straight to me, an instant flashback triggered to replay. My brain was unable to comprehend. Strings for millions of ideas for why raised in my head until he said what I never wanted to hear from him,

"Auclair", his pronunciation was close to perfect. "Marie-Virginie Auclair."

Fuck. No.

It sounded bizarre to hear him use the name. Addressing me with the name, with the same dirty tone my relatives used. A pressure spread from my forehead, from the point where the gun was. It numbed my senses. I could feel it flow from my head like a liquid. It chained me in my position, severing the control I had to my limbs. I looked to his eyes behind the gun. The dark eyes that always gleamed with affection for me, never cruel to me. His unfamiliar, vicious stare broke the pressure, lightning a harsh shiver to my veins. There wasn't any filter to put up on my face. He could see the truth.

"The daughter of André and Fleur Auclair, the niece of Bernard Auclair", his voice was steady but emotionless, still I could sense the anger cracking under it. "The only Auclair still breathing."

His safety was off, the clicking sound still ringing on my ears. I gave him silence as I didn't have anything else to offer. Those names haunted me as they haunted him. Somehow it warmed me that he didn't skip maman's name. I waited for his next move.

"Fuck", he yelled suddenly and my whole body shaked, all my energy conserved to keep me standing. "What game are you playing?"

"Nothing", I finally mustered out. A salty tear reached my lip, his gun too close to my face to wipe it away.