The Blood of Paris - Short Stories, Incorrect Quotes, and Characters

Short Story 1

TW: Suicidal ideation, an almost suicide attempt, mentions of anorexia, flashback, mentions of dead mother and sister, mentions of disfigured body/body horror.

I stood near the edge, looking down at the cobblestones far below. I imagined myself in a squishy pile of flesh and shattered bones.

Just one step, one sway, and that's what'll happen.

I imagined that: no more pain, no more sorrow, no more cares. Wouldn't that be nice?

A nagging voice reminded me: What about Charlotte and Augustin? The siblings you promised to care for and protect?

Guilt made my stomach turn. I wanted to retch, but my stomach was empty due to missed meals.

Meals you told Camille you had eaten.

Tears burned my eyes, but I managed to keep them from burning.

Just lean forward. Then it ends. No more pain. No more lying. No more failing.

I gathered my nerves, feeling a few tears slip.

I pushed my body forward-

"M-Maxime?"

I rocked backward, falling down.

"Maxime, w-what are you d-d-doing?"

Camille, please, not now.

He came up beside me and squatted down. "Maxime?"

I wiped my eyes hurriedly and cleared my throat softly. "Yeah?"

"Ar-re you oka-ay?" I made the mistake of looking up into his expressive brown eyes.

"Yeah, just... looking at the stars."

Liar.

He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly. "You'r-re cr-rying."

"Just thinking," I replied vaguely. I wiped my eyes again.

He knew not to press the issue of my thinking, thankfully. He knew I cried whenever I thought of Maman or Henriette.

That's not what you were thinking about.

I felt shame fill me.

"W-well, um... I..." He seemed at a loss for words.

"It's fine."

He nodded before drawing his eyebrows closed. "W-why are you up-p-p here? You really sc-cared me."

"The view is better here than from the window. Sorry; I should have left a note." A suicide note.

I watched as he looked up, the soft starlight framing his face.

"Y-you're right, M-Maxime. It's beautiful." He smiled, his mouth open in amazement.

I felt a smile tug at my lips. "Yeah."

He looked back at me. "But aren't y-you afraid that you m-might f-f-fall?"

I want to fall. I want to fall so badly.

"No. Are you?" I watched him carefully.

He messed with his shirt cuffs. "A l-little." His voice shook with what I knew was nervousness.

I took his hand. "I won't let you fall."

I'll pull you back, throwing myself off in the process.

He squeezed my hand. "Thank y-you." 

I looked back up at the stars, shining in all of their magnificent splendour and could see in my peripheral vision that Camille did the same.

We sat on the quiet roof for a while, our hands still intertwined. It was peaceful and thoughtless.

I should have done this from the beginning.

I glanced over at Camille and his lips suddenly pressed against mine. After a moment, he pulled away.

"Th-thank you." I could tell he was flushed and he looked away, tucking his hair behind his ear.

I smiled a little. "Of course."

I watched him carefully, the way he was trembling slightly and he was pulling at one of the thick curls of hair that spilled down his shoulders.

"We should probably go in," I whispered. "It's getting late. And cold."

As soon as I said that, I realized that the cold air had seeped through my shirt even with the coat I was wearing.

He helped me up and we made our way back into the building and to our dormitory. I hung my coat up and then got into bed, pulling the duvet all the way up after laying my glasses down on the bedside table.

Tomorrow's another day.

I felt Camille slip into bed beside me and hug me.

"It's g-g-going to be alr-right," he whispered.

His unearthly ability to read other people had always astounded me, but, this time, it broke me. I let out a choked sob, feeling tears fill my eyes and start to slip down my face.

"Shhh," he whispered, hugging me tightly. "I-it's okay. I-it's going t-to be okay."

I turned around and sobbed into his chest, grasping his shirt tightly. He remained calm and still, rubbing my back.

I eventually fell asleep, praying that Camille would be right.

-----

I wiped the tears that were streaming down my face. 

Camille was gone.

And I didn't know if I would ever see him again.

There was a knock at the door.

"Come in?" I turned around to find Charlotte looking at me, her head tilted slightly.

"Maximilien-"

"I'm fine," I told her shortly.

Her mouth snapped shut and her eyes narrowed. "Yes, well, it's about time you get going. You shouldn't be late for the courts."

I nodded, filing away my guilt to deal with at a more appropriate time.

"Thank you, ma chère soeur."

I gathered my things and bid her a good day, before walking through the familiar streets.

I wondered if Camille had found a place to practice law, if he had found a wife, if he had kids?

And, most of all, if I would ever see him again.

So, this is my first finished story with the Frev group! (Of course, barring the expanded incorrect quotes I've written.) This story came to me a day or so ago, taking me two days to write. Here, both Maximilien and Camille are at school at Lycée Louis le Grand. It sort of plays on my headcanon that Camille is very touch-oriented and that he kisses people to show his affection. Usually, he kisses on the cheek, but Maximilien just so happened to turn his head at exactly the wrong time. The second part of the story I added just for fun, and it is a style I discovered from RevolutionRavenclaw, who wrote their story The Incorruptible, Corrupted in the style of flashbacks.