Bonnefoy

loved.

; She said
she love me
  but that's somethin'
  we'll never know ;
           ~t.o

He remembered hearing the stories from his parents and older relatives about the First World War. He never really understood how it came to be, but the result after it ended was staggering. So many people were elated hearing the war had come to a close. And he couldn't blame them. How horrible would've been having to live during such times.

And here he is, a young 22-year-old man, living in 'such times'. Who would've thought such a terrible event would overlap once more and this time France was crumbling.

Francis knew after hearing about Hitler and his plan to resurrect Germany France would be in big trouble. After all, they did make Germany pay tremendous amounts for reparations. But his beloved Paris had turned into a horror before his eyes.

It was so bad outside: the rumbling army tanks, the crowds of German soldiers. It was all too much, so much so, Francis found himself residing in his awfully basic home more often than he normally would. But as much as he'd love to complain, he couldn't, because he knew that out there people were suffering way worse and he was. He saw their despair especially when it came to the Jewish race. Viewing as men, women, and children were dragged to their doom. Even some of his own friends were being taken into forced labor despite being citizens. Others fled or died from the war directly. It was chaos. Not to mention the red flags with dark swastika's littered all over his home which was hard to ignore. Until his dying breath, he knew that the blackened sign would forever haunt him and millions.

His heart sunk to his stomach when he heard a knock at his door. His eyes tore to the far back of his home and immediately sweat started to develop at his hairline making its way down the sides of his head. Taking a shaky breath he softly mumbled a, "be right there" and made his way to the door.

What awaited him? A German soldier there to carry him off? A group of Jews pleading for him to hide them? His heart couldn't take the stress. He swallowed a hard object in his throat as his unlocked his door and swung it open.

His eyes widened to see a familiar face. You stood at the door with a small smile but Francis could see the fatigue in your eyes and how the war affected you. He couldn't believe you stood in front of him. He wanted to scold you for risking your life to come here but instead, he grabbed you by the shoulders and pulled you into a much-needed embrace.

With such an emotional hug you couldn't help but tear up a bit. Life had gotten so fucking hard especially since there was a devil spawn of a man after you and the rest of your Jewish brothers and sisters. It was like you and your family were literally trapped and your choices were to die, run and then die, or stay and die.

You knew being here with Francis was not smart and foolish on your part but being taken in and wrapped by his arms almost relieved you. You were scared ad you had every right to be, but Francis, just with a simple hug, calmed your raging nerves, and for just a minute you felt at peace.

Francis led you inside and closed the door and securely fastened it. There was a chance you could've been followed or that you're identity and origins might've been discovered so your time here had to be short. He sat you down and prepared a drink for you both. Once finishing that he eased down next to you and handed you a glass of wine.

"Mon Dieu you are foolish for coming here you know that?" He said

You sheepishly smile, "I know and with every step coming to your home was like a step toward uncertain death. But I had to see you Francios." You look to him, "I had to."

He was silent for a moment contemplating your words. You didn't need to see him, you could live your life perfectly without him, but you still came and it melted his heart.

"And why's that?" He susurrated and you inwardly swooned from the small octave descend in his voice

you pause for a moment picking and choosing your words carefully. You wanted to back down from the conversation, but you had to do this.

"My family and I are escaping."You whisper in a low voice, "And we finally found someone to help us."

You watch as Francis's eyebrows furrow at your words and he set his glass down at once, "Escaping? How?"

And so you explained how you're father met a man called Raoul Fourrier and how he knew of a person who could smuggle your family and yourself out of town. He went by the name of Dr.Eugene. By paying 25,000 francs per person, your family could be arranged a passage to Argentina or any place in South America through Portugal.

It sounded too good to be true and Francis knew that once he heard your explanation. He had never heard of this Dr.Eugene or Raoul Fourrier but seeing how your eyes suddenly lit up with an astonishing hope he couldn't bring himself to voice his concerns.

But despite his suspicion, his heart felt heavy knowing he would never see or feel your presence again. You shined so brightly even during the struggles you endured before the war. You inspired him to persevere and be a light for others He had kept company with a lot of women, but yours he enjoyed above all others and would be letting you go today and possibly forever.

Yet he took his glass and raised it. You got the idea and did the same.

"To good fortune."He said with a small grin, "And the hope that one day, we will meet again."

There was a feeble clink in his small home and you both drank silently. Your time here was drawing to a close and you both knew it. Francis got to his feet and helped you up. You both held hands for a moment his thumb tracing the hills of your knuckles. Then very slowly he raised them to his full lips for a small peck.

Je t'aime, je t'aime, je t'aime was all he wanted to say but he couldn't. It would make things so much harder since he would let you go knowing that you would be carrying his unrequited feelings for the rest of your life and he resented that.

But the words were stuck in his throat. You smiled and took your hand from his and this time you embraced him. Maybe you knew his internal struggles and decided to take action he'd never know but how you're lips brushed against his earlobe made him shiver and he nearly fainted when you're hushed voice whispered the desired "Je t'aime."

Francis opened his mouth to echo those same words back to you but the instant they trickled down your lips you released him and whisked yourself to the door. Francis in a meager panic whipped around and watched as your figure retreated from him.

"Je t'aime mon amour!" He proclaimed back not caring who in his building heard him except you

But his response was the sound of his door shutting with you leaning through it and that was the last time he ever saw you again.

Note: Dr.Eugene is a