For All The Paris Gold

Deux: A Little Fun Before the Storm

Thank goodness for Grandmother Legrand to have given her house to her eldest child before her death, or Bijou would've been stuck in his fancy manor uptown, constantly reminded by the presence of his father's company. 

He shuddered. At least he could see the nature's gift of autumn here.

No one made an attempt at cleaning the house. His father had insisted that they bring no servants--it was much too small, and that proved hopeless for three spoiled humans who had never touched a broom in their life. They chose to simply live with the dust bunnies.

Bijou sneezed into his handkerchief, his nose itching in red. He caught quite a cold from staying up late and forgetting to draw the windows. Hence why he could only stay out from the porch, folding his short legs on the dainty stairs.

"Bijou, look! Mushrooms!"

"Don't go too far!"

Maëlle looked tiny from their distance, her trailing a path of flowers in the forest. If he didn't know any better, he would've thought that a monster from his childhood was trying to lead her astray.

Come.

Book in hand, he sighed to the air. It smelled like porcelain and dew, beige cracks staining his sleeve with powder. He didn't really want to fill his head with more words, but it was a good tool, in case someone strolled by and he didn't want to talk to them.

"Hello."

Speak of the devil.

As if magic, the book pulled open instantly, and he poured his gaze towards it. His heart leaped to his throat. He heard footsteps, saw boots from the corner of his eyes, and prayed that the person would walk away.

How rude.

"Hey there! You like pie?"

Maëlle's voice called back. "I love pie!"

A deep laugh rumbled from the person, who then crouched down and took Bijou completely by surprise. It was that man from yesterday, grinning brightly. "Hi. Am I interrupting something?"

"Uh..." He averted the gaze, hands pressed to his handkerchief. "Not really."

"Great." He brightened. "Ma baked her first good pie. Wanted you all to try some."

"Oh." The pie was stuffed in a jar. Crumbling apart, by the looks of it. But Bijou felt a little warm at the kind gesture, mindful of the stained ink on his hand as he took it. "Thank you. That is very thoughtful."

"Your nana used to bake these." He chuckled. "Only, I'd gobble them up before you do."

He did remember parts of that. Legrand wiped his nose, turning with a small smile. "May I?"

"Sure." He shrugged, settling beside him with some distance.

The pie melted in flakes on his tongue. sweet syrup filling his taste buds. Then his throat caught on something spicy, flaring his senses, coughing in shock.

He clasped his hand over his mouth in a hurry, the insides threatening to escape and burning his cheeks. Inocencio cursed, barging in through the door and came out with a glass of water. "Merde, merde, merde..."

The water pushed the food down. He took a deep breath, calming down against the baluster in shaking hiccups. While the tanned man cursed again. "Shit. Forgot to tell you it ain't apple pie. Ma put in cinnamon and chili."

"That's alright. Thank you--" He jerked in a cough. "Oh, God."

"Damn. Drink, drink." He pushed his wrist closer. "I'm so sorry, Legrand."