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Hearing quiet humming, Erik's eyes slowly opened. Looking to the candles which were flickering lowly, almost dying in their holders, he slowly looked away and lifted his head up from the pillow. Pushing himself fully up in bed, he looked to where Fleurette was busying around. He didn't know what she was doing, but it looked like she had been up for a while. Rolling the sleeves of her white shirt down, she wiped her hands over her navy skirt which was only just levitated off of the ground thanks to her small boot heels. Leaning down, she picked up a small basket, keeping the basket tucked under one arm, she used her spare hand to sweep her hair out of her face and over her shoulder.

"What are you doing?" Erik asked curiously. He had been sitting in silence observing her potter around. She jumped and put a hand over her chest. He smiled apologetically at her, putting the basket down she slowly walked over.

Sweeping her skirt underneath herself as she sat, she looked to him. "I believe you meant to say, good morning, Fleurette, what are you up to over there?" She smiled.

Erik rolled his eyes and leaned back against the headboard, crossing his arms loosely, he sighed. "Good morning, Fleurette, what were you up to?" He corrected considering she was no longer pottering around.

"Good morning, Erik, I was getting ready because I'm going out." She replied while flicking imaginary dust off of her skirt.

"Out?" Erik questioned that piqued his interest as he looked at curiously.

Fleurette's eyes lifted slowly and looked to him. "Yes, out."

"That's rather ominous."

"I'm off out with Meg." Fleurette rolled her eyes. "We need to restock the kitchen, and drop into the post office to see if there's any post for us."

Erik moved away from the headboard when hearing her plans, "You're expecting a letter." He stated while Fleurette straightened up and looked at him. "That's the only real reason you're going out. Though yes, food is essential." He paused to run a hand through his hair. "But you'd put food to one side for the sake of hearing from Eleanor."

"And?" Fleurette said impatiently. "What's your point?"

"Nothing, I'm merely stating that if you were not expecting a letter, you'd let Meg freely go out on her lonesome."

"Hm," Fleurette let out a huffing sigh and looked across the dark space of their home. "I'll have you know that I'd still go. Meg and I have not spent time together for a while." She gave a sure nod and looked to him.

"Have fun," he commented while slowly standing from the bed. He didn't mean for his tone to sound so dry, and sarcastic, maybe even cynical; but that's what happened as he rubbed the final remnants of sleep from his eyes.

Fleurette looked up at him, she narrowed her eyes and reached out and hit him lightly on the back. "Quit being sarcastic, Erik!" She laughed.

"I thought I was being witty," he turned and looked down at her. "Not sarcastic." He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. "Regardless, have fun."

"You do know that I'd rather stay here with you, right?"

"Shock horror, am I the only person who could deter you from receiving and reading a letter from Eleanor?" Erik asked while Fleurette's eyes narrowed up at him playfully. "I guess someone has to have the skill to distract you from letter writing."

"Erik, how rude of you to get in between sisterly letters."

Erik tilted his head to the side and tucked some of her hair behind her ears. "I apologise." He looked at her oddly when she let out a quiet laugh. Putting her hands on his cheeks, she pulled him close to rest her forehead against his. Nudging gently against him, she sighed quietly and shut her eyes.

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