𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝘼𝙧𝙚 𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝘼𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙚 | 𝙋𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙤𝙢 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙊𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙖

ii. Returning to Paris

Two weeks later...

"Finally! Paris!" Gustave grinned, looking excitedly at the sights around him. "Where are we going to stay?"

"I have a home that I designed just north of the city," Erik replied. "We'll be making that our home."

"Really? When did you have time to do that?" Gustave frowned, his interest fully peaked.

"Oh, I had that design laying around for a while. I had it built while I was in America, in case I wanted to come back."

"Well, it was a good thing you did," Gustave smiled. "How far is it from here?"

"Maybe half an hour from the main heart of the city. It won't take long in a carriage," Erik replied. "Shall we?"

"Sounds splendid," Gustave nodded, picking up his suitcase with a small groan.

"You're determined to carry that, aren't you?" Erik asked with a chuckle.

Gustave nodded. "I will drag this blasted thing if I have to!"

Erik couldn't help but laugh as he walked behind Gustave, who was indeed dragging his suitcase. "Alright, then. Just don't let it land on your foot," he advised as he waved down a nearby carriage.

"It has three times already."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Gustave shrugged. "It's happened before."

"Okay. I just don't want you to hurt your toes," Erik said with a smile. "I've dropped a case on my foot. It's not exactly fun."

"I guess I'm just more focused on other things that hurt right now," Gustave sighed.

Erik sent him a sympathetic smile. "I know. I'm sorry," he said softly.

"It isn't your fault," Gustave replied with a shrug. "It's no one's, except for Miss Giry."

As much as Erik agreed, he knew that instilling the tendency to hold grudges in his son wasn't a good idea. "Now, Gustave," he said, bending down to his level, "Miss Giry certainly made a mistake that has hurt us both, but she wasn't in her right mind that night."

"That doesn't matter much now, does it?" Gustave sighed. "Mother is dead because of her. There's no way around that fact."

"Hey, it's alright. Don't get yourself all worked up," Erik said, putting a hand on the boy's shoulder. "I know you're upset."

Gustave nodded tearfully, setting down his suitcase to wrap his arms around his father.

"Shh, it's alright." Erik rubbed the boy's back as he let him cry onto his shoulder.

"I miss Mother," Gustave sniffled, gripping onto his father's suit coat.

"I know, I know you do. I do too."

"Can...can we go home now?"

"Of course we can. Our carriage is here, come on." Erik gave him another tight squeeze before he pulled back to wipe his tears. "Are you alright?"

Gustave nodded, sniffling a bit. "I will be."

"Alright. You get in the carriage while I help with our luggage. I'll be right there."

"Okay," Gustave said quietly, climbing up and sitting on the leather seat.

Erik loaded their luggage into the coach before he told the driver the address and climbed in with Gustave. "How are you?" he asked, sitting next to his son.