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CHAPTER TEN.
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⎾NEW YORK CITY ⏋
THE SMELL OF BOOKS WAS ALWAYS A WELCOMING SCENT TO EVERYONE INCLUDING GISELLE MOREAU, she's loved books since she was a little girl and she often found herself perched on her desk, a book in her hands, reading while her ― friends ― played outside with dolls. Growing up, she was always the weird kid who didn't associate herself with others her age. The first years she was bullied, she cried herself to sleep, she pictured her older sister's face every night before she went to sleep and smiled to herself, vowing that she will make her sibling proud, she will never bow her head to anyone. And that's how the quest to becoming Femme Fatale began, only a broken hearted little girl who lived hell. Only a little girl who was adopted at a very young age by loving parents, who soon enough met their end. Trepassing from a weak girl, to a feared woman.
The library was full of books that ranged from new to ancient almost and everyday there was a new book that Giselle never seen before, never read before. She found herself that morning in the small place, seated in a small table at the corner, holding a book between her long polished fingers, her eyes glancing down and up, casually keeping an eye on the brunette girl who was too preoccupied with her newest book ― The Zahir ― one of Paulo Coelho's works.
She found herself under certain circumstances, where she sat hours and hours watching the girl without raising any suspicions. Those hours were perhaps the only few agreeable hours in her life. The small gestures made her heart swell with happiness she never in her life experienced.
This time is different. Not like the times before.
She promised to never visit her again, to never put the little girl in danger, but she couldn't keep herself away. The last months were a total wreck that left Giselle unstable emotionally.
Carefully she stood up, and held her book in her left hand, she wanted to go out without drawing any attention, but clearly failed to do so as she bumped into a chair that made the little library vibrate. Every eye was trained on her, curse the lords for letting her clumsiness at the most unwanted times. Gigi clutched the book tightly and looked down at her feet, continuing her way out of the place because it suddenly became suffocating. The second she was out, she took a deep breath like she was drowning in the ocean, her lungs burned with the amount of oxygene that was given, and her legs wobbled slightly 'till she sat herself on a nearby bench.
Gigi used to love attention, especially if it was beneficial to her mission. But Giselle was a different woman, she was quite reserved and preferred to stay alone most of the times. That's the beauty of Femme Fatale, becoming the exact opposite of who she was before, creating this facade that no one saw through, hiding her emotions and feelings with walls that could compete with the previous Berlin Wall, or the actual Great Wall of China.
