A Truelove of Turtle Doves

Chpt 39 - Heart And Soul

"(Y/N)!"

His yell pierced the air as he caught me, slinging one of my arms around his shoulders to hold me up, his other arm wrapping tightly around my waist. My legs shook underneath me as I groaned in pain.

"(Y/N), mon amour, we need to get to Le Dauphin, and Jeanne can patch you up, okay?"

I could hear the deep-rooted fear and panic in his voice, and I could feel it in the grip he had on my waist and wrist.

A skittering sound echoed in my head, and I briefly glanced Michael reaching for his pistol.

I didn't need to warn Francis. Another shot rang out, and Michael fell face down on the cobblestones, a bullet through his skull, as blood pooled around him.

While I had never seen a dead body before, it didn't register with me that Francis had killed someone. I was too busy trying not to crumple to the ground in pain.

The ground beneath me swayed as we walked, and I started seeing double - two sets of my legs, two sets of Francis' legs, two overlapping sets of cobblestones. I was barely walking, my feet dragging on the ground as I tried my hardest to move my legs.

I think he said something, but I wasn't sure.

The pain coursed through me like fire, and the point where the bullet had struck me, below my left rib cage, was agonising. My free arm was wrapped around my torso, my hand pressed to the wound as I vaguely had the idea to try and stop the bleeding.

"Mon trésor, did you hear me? We have to get to my ship, okay?"

I managed a tentative nod, just to show him that I'd heard him.

Francis picked up his pace, trying to move as fast as possible, but I couldn't keep up. My legs felt like lead and I kept tripping over myself.

"Francis," I groaned, "I can't-" I cut myself off as a pained whimper left me when I clutched my wound too hard.

I could barely focus on anything, my vision blurring again, and I felt my knees hit the cobblestones, another cry of pain leaving me as the feeling jolted through my body. My breathing was off, and air left my lungs in heavy pants.

"(Y/N), mon amour, I know it hurts, but focus on me, okay? Focus on my voice."

I raised my head, my eyes struggling to concentrate on something. I could see the shape of him, crouched down in front of me, but I couldn't make much out beyond a blur of dark colours.

A harsh snapping noise got my attention, my eyes opening fully, and the blurry image came into focus. Francis was clicking his fingers in front of my face. I hadn't even noticed my eyes closing.

I could see the fear rooted in his expression. It lined his eyes and his mouth, total terror settled in every inch of his face, but it was his eyes that caught me. Those beautiful deep blue eyes. They shook every part of me, my heart and my soul, more than the cold rain and the cold air ever could.

"I'm going to carry you, mon trésor, okay? It will be faster," he said. He was trying to keep his voice calm, but it was anything but. His distress was evident.

I nodded slightly, and he wasted no time in picking me up bridal style. I yelled at the sudden movement and he apologised as I rested my head against his shoulder, my eyelids drooping again. He was so warm...

"(Y/N), you have to keep you eyes open."

I forced them to open as far as I could but they stayed half-lidded, my breathing coming in strangled gasps.

"Talk to me, mon amour, about anything, anything at all, just don't close your eyes on me, please don't go to sleep."

The only noises for a few seconds were his boots hitting the cobblestones, his laboured breaths, and the patter of rain. All of it mixed together and echoed in my head.