Francis: 03

113 7 0

-Scene: Dining Room -

Reader: Finally, I'm done!

I wiped the sweat from my brow, admiring my work of a newly scrubbed floor. I pulled out a nearby chair, thankful to be off my aching feet.

Ludwig: Resting already? There's still a whole list of things that need to be done! If there's time to rest there's time to clean. Why don't you go wash the laundry next?

There's more...? My little bit of hope sank, wanting to curl up into a ball. Ludwig merely glared at me with cold eyes before walking away, leaving me alone.

Why are they being so mean to me? I'm supposed to be their special 'Chosen' one, yet here they are treating me like a maid!

All I could do was let out a sigh and get to my feet, dragging myself towards the laundry room. It was unsurprisingly empty, thankful I wouldn't run into anyone else.

Reader: Perhaps this should become my new hiding spot...

Francis: Trying to hide, are we?

Reader: Waugh!

Francis chuckled, leaning against the door frame.

Damn these vampires! Appearing and disappearing as they like! His blue eyes narrowed before he stood up straight, walking closer to me.

Francis: This isn't a terrible spot, actually. I can guarantee the others won't come in here. Why don't we make it our little haven?

He was smiling but his eyes were empty. I turned, grabbing his shirt from the previous day, now folded.

Reader: Here's your shirt that I had accidentally dirtied the other day.

He glanced at the shirt before stepping ever closer, grabbing my chin, forcing me to look at him.

Francis: What sort of dull reaction is that? Do you think I'm bluffing?

Reader: I'm not sure if you are, but I do know you say whatever you like.

A small smile crept onto his lips, him letting go of my chin but not moving any further.

Francis: What's the harm in that? The only one who should watch their words around here is you, my rose.

His smile remained the same yet his eyes danced mischievously, even dangerously, under the lights.

Reader: P-perhaps.

He leaned closer, impossibly close, before grabbing the shirt out of my hands.

Francis: Thanks dear, I appreciate it.

He winked, leaving the room. I let out a sigh, resting against the wall. Why are my hands so clammy? My heart is racing... I know one thing for sure; I can't trust a word Francis says.

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