"You're such an asshole Fredrick!" He loved it when she said his name like that. The way his name rolled off of her tongue, the way her French accent complimented the tones of his name, the french i, the way she swore. Everything about her was graceful, like a real French mademoiselle.
"Colette!" His harsh voice called for her, harsh with that German accent of his that she so adored. She turned towards him, and opened her mouth to say something. Hesitation. Her mouth shut, as she thought for a few seconds, and opened it again. "I'm sorry Fredrick. If only you saw." A silence rested between the two. The silent was so known, homelike, so trusted, but meanwhile so hostile, angry and anxious. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to get totally wasted. And if you do mind, I literally do not care. Adieu Monsoir Fredrick!" She cheerfully waved at him, as she elegantly stomped out of the room. Only she could stomp elegantly, and he knew it.
"I really fucked up, didn't I?"
God, why did she, a French fucking citizen, working with the fucking Americans, have to fall in love with Fredrick Fucking Zoller.
To be continued? Is there interest for this?
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Blame
Historical Fiction"You're such an asshole Fredrick!" He loved it when she said his name like that. The way his name rolled off of her tongue, the way her French accent complimented the tones of his name, the french i, the way she swore. Everything about her was grace...
