Glass Skin (Discontinued.)

32

Everything seemed to oddly click into place one afternoon. Looking up from her book when she heard a chorus of cheering, laughing, and rapid chatter, Fleurette leaned away from her window seat and looked down the hallway. She had decided to hide away in a corridor, though really the open space wasn't providing much cover. The small alcove where the window and the seat sat however provided enough cover for her to not be spotted by someone if they peered down the stretching passageway.

Shutting her book she stood slowly, sweeping her navy skirt and straightening it, she brushed down her cream coloured shirt before picking up her book and taking to walking down to where the noise was still coming from. Turning the corner she looked to Fleck, who was peering through the bars in the banisters. "What are you doing?" Fleurette asked while walking closer to her friend. As she drew closer she could soon see over the banister. Her pace slowed and she found her voice slowly dying in her throat as she went to question the smaller female some more.

"You know her? Meg seems to know her, they're quite friendly, aren't they?" Fleck looked up at Fleurette, removing her hands from around the banister bars she looked up at the red haired woman behind her. Fleck raised an eyebrow at Fleurette's hesitant expression. She did not seem as thankful, or happy to see the brunette as Meg appeared to be. "You do know her." Fleck stated plainly while looking from her to the greeting pair below them. As yet the two of them hadn't moved much from the front door. Others of the troupe stood nearby hanging in the shadows of doorways and corridors, watching the apparent reunion which was happening a little ways from them.

"I did," Fleurette corrected while kneeling down by Fleck's side. "A long time ago. It has been many years since I heard from Christine. Or have even heard word of what she was doing. I thought she was still in Paris?" Fleurette couldn't help but frown with confusion. "What is she doing here?"

"Friendly visit?" Fleck offered and got a shake of the head from Fleurette. "Was in the area and thought she'd chase you up? Came to see a show?"

Fleurette scrunched her nose up in thought. "Seems unlikely."

Fleck raised an eyebrow. "I have a suggestion," she said while Fleurette's eyes darted down to look at her. "How about you go down there and find out?"

"Regular genius, Fleck, honestly you are." Fleurette sighed and stood slowly. With hesitant steps she moved forwards and walked down the stairs. It didn't seem long actually until her presence was spotted, Meg naturally cheered and called her over. She even ran to the staircase and grasped her hand tightly in one of hers even before Fleurette had reached the end.

Being tugged off of the bottom stair, Fleurette stumbled forwards and caught her balance just in time to walk forwards. "Can you believe this, Fleur?! Look who's decided to drop by!" Meg said enthusiastically. But there was something in her tone which showed that though she was openly happy to see Christine. There was also something which caused her to be withdrawn and sceptical about the matter, well it was good to see she wasn't the only one feeling like the whole thing was just off.

Fleurette eventually got pulled to a stop and looked to the brunette in front of her. She smiled, which was responded to quickly. Fleurette looked Christine up and down, she looked the same, though obviously a little older looking, but she still had the same smile, bright eyes, and curled brown hair. "Hello," Fleurette said eventually after getting nudged by Meg to say something. She hadn't registered that she was just standing staring at her.

Really Fleurette was at a loss. In the past she could not exactly remember ever having a full blown conversation with Christine. A few words may have been exchanged but never a long lasting talk like the ones she had with Erik, Meg, or Fleck, or any of her other friends. From what memory could recall Christine had spent most of her time, spare time outside of shows, with Raoul. And as if on cue, the tall brown haired male came walking through the front door, some luggage under one arm, and a small boys hand in the other.