La Petite Fleur

Traître

"Oh, I um, couldn't reach the cabinet very well, so I sat on the counter to get it, and when I slid down again, I knocked it with my hand accidentally," she replied, pausing intermittently. She ducked her face in embarrassment and turned away from him slightly.

"It's alright," he said. "I'm not mad, I just wanted to know."

She turned back towards him a little before checking the clock and beginning her pacing again.

"Do you always do that before a performance?" he wondered aloud.

"Non. Not always. I need to work out extra energy," she answered, retracing her path to him and sitting on the counter, swinging her feet. "This is my first solo-"

She broke off and pushed away from the counter to resume her pacing. Maybe she was working out the extra energy, but she looked nervous to him. Nerves were normal, so why didn't she just admit that she was a little scared?

At noon, Antoinette announced that it was time to head to the theater. She packed up her backpack and climbed the hallway walls one last time. Before they left, Steve made sure he had his keys, Swiss Army knife, and phone in case of emergency. For a minute, he debated if he should find a way to bring his shield in case the assassins tried to get her again. There was no easy, inconspicuous way for him to carry the shield, so he left it tucked snugly behind the closet.

They walked side by side down the familiar side streets to the grand stone building. He held the door for her before following her in. Almost immediately, he was stopped.

"Billet?" the doorman demanded.

Steve froze. He didn't have a ticket. Fortunately, Antoinette stepped in. "Monsieur, il est avec moi. 'e is with me."

The doorman stepped aside and let them pass. She told him to sit in the right section of seats near the aisle halfway toward the stage. When asked why, she simply answered, "So I will know where to look."

He cleared the building again before choosing his seat. He sat exactly where she had told him to, only making sure his seat was the very end. If he needed to get up, this spot would be an excellent position to move from. The biggest con was that he couldn't see anything going on in the balcony above him. If the assassin shot from the balcony, Steve would be unable to stop him.

The building began to fill until the hum of mingling voices filled the air. Men and women from nine to ninety-nine filed into their seats and chattered to each other. He tried to listen to the conversation nearest him to see if he could pick out anything he knew, but the couple was speaking way too fast for him to understand.

When he cast his eyes around the room for anyone suspicious, he caught sight of Antoinette gesturing to him from the door beside the stage to the right. She was motioning for him to come to her and so he did. He left his seat and made his way toward where she stood, stopping just inside the door.

Immediately, he took in her appearance. Her dress was the palest shade of sky blue he had ever seen and draped in thin, silky layers to her knees; strapped to her shoulders was a set of glittery white feather wings that seemed too heavy for her be able to dance in. Her hair was tied back in a bun like usual and her makeup had already been done. She looks like an angel, he thought before realizing that's exactly how she was supposed to look. She closed the door behind him and smiled uneasily. "Do you see anyone that might-"

She broke off when he shook his head. "There's no one here that I can see is part of the group that wants to get you."

"Bon," she replied, still looking a little shaken.

"You're nervous," he said. He didn't know what made him say that but it slipped out anyway.

Her eyes narrowed when she looked up at him but after a short pause, she sighed and directed her stare at the ground. "Oui. I am terrified."