Lion Parmi Les Hommes

II.

big tw for this chapter, do not read if you are sensitive to violence at all in any way please.

"Ce qui passe sans nom demeure difficile à corriger."

~Gregory Maguire, Lion Parmi Les Hommes

(Y/N) didn't talk about it. Jean-Claude had been sweet at first. She was new to the city and he had been one of the first people she had met here. They had been friends for a while and he had eventually asked her out and he had been so sweet about it that she had had to say yes. After all, she had been single her entire life. She couldn't afford to be picky forever. It was like as soon as she agreed to date him though, he became different. She had shown him the book shop, her favourite place in the world, and he loathed it. He loathed Marthe too, though (Y/N) couldn't fathom why. He demanded that she not go as often and she listened because she didn't want to be alone anymore. She wasn't good or experienced at being in relationships so it may have been her fault anyway. She also knew that she wasn't the prettiest or the skinniest girl, she did owe it to Jean to at least try to be that. He yelled a lot. At first only behind closed doors, he would get so loud and all she could do was cover her ears and wait for it all to be over. He always apologized after, and he really did feel bad she thought, he would get her the most beautiful flowers or paint her a picture and she would try her best to forget the way his saliva felt splattered against her cheek because he was so close to her when he threw his fits. Eventually, Jean became more violent but (Y/N) figured he was just trying to help. It wasn't his fault that she was late to dinner, or that she ate too much and exercised too little, not his fault that her eyes had lingered too long on one of her books, or that she was an inattentive girlfriend. The first time had been after they had gone to dinner and she had smiled at the waitress too brightly and so once they had gotten back to Jean's studio flat he had grabbed onto her wrists so tightly and his voice was low with his anger and (Y/N) was terrified. When he finally let go she had fled straight to the book shop where she knew Marthe would be waiting. If she wasn't downstairs working, she would at least be in her flat on the second story. Marthe was her only other friend here, she was always warm and kind, and ready to banter playfully with (Y/N). Her family wasn't even in the country, not that there was anywhere she'd rather be than in the little bookshop with a mug of hot cocoa. The other woman had asked if something was wrong and (Y/N) had only said that she and Jean had fought, she elected not to mention her bruising arms, tugging her sleeves down to cover the reddened flesh. She had never been a liar. Not a very good one at least. Now she was an expert in the subject. She became skilled with concealer and layering her clothes just so that Marthe wouldn't see any of the wounds when she would visit the shop.

Marthe knew. She knew at least a little. She knew that Jean was a cruel man with a wicked temper. She knew that (Y/N) was terrified of disappointing him. She knew that they fought often and that Jean never meant his apologies. She observed the dynamic each time (Y/N) would bring him along to the store. She noticed the way that they left when Jean wanted, she noticed that (Y/N) wouldn't so much as look at her when Jean was around. She saw the way that (Y/N) was wasting away in front of her. It had been weeks since the girl had eaten her half of the brioche and jam from the bakery down the street. Marthe didn't see her eat much of anything at all anymore. She also saw the way that (Y/N) cringed back towards Marthe every time she saw Jean coming towards the shop as if subconsciously wishing to use the taller woman to separate her from her boyfriend. Really, the only thing that Marthe hadn't picked up on was that Jean had ever laid a hand on (Y/N). If she had known, it would have all come to a head much sooner. As it were, it took until the leaves had nearly all fallen from the trees for all of Marthe's careful silence to fall apart.

She had been disappointed to see Jean at (Y/N)'s side when the girl entered the bookshop that morning, it was Tuesday and usually (Y/N) came alone on Tuesdays. Marthe had to turn away for a moment so that her smile would seem genuine when she greeted the couple. (Y/N) seemed worse than usual that morning. Her hands trembled by her sides and her shoulders were all hunched in. There was no sunshine in the smile that she offered and that was enough to dampen Marthe's mood further. She served the two their coffee nonetheless and then set about putting away her books, trying her best not to pay them any mind. She was only drawn out of her thoughts a few hours later at the hushed arguing from (Y/N)'s armchair. She turned her head slightly to better listen and when she picked up on the words Jean was using towards (Y/N) she turned fully towards them. It was just as she turned that she caught sight of Jean-Claude with his hand wrapped vice-like around (Y/N)'s fragile arm, pressing on the skin where it was already bruised while the girl tried in vain to tug herself free. Marthe saw red. It wasn't more than a few seconds between her seeing this and her crossing the store to the young couple, leveling Jean with a hard stare, "You're clearly hurting her. You need to let go of her now and get out of my shop".