Felicite Found by Julia King Page A

dream.”
    After a while, the door to the flat opened. “Pierre?” Raising her head, Ém darted her eyes over Hélène’s shoulder to gain a view into the living room. “Pierre,” she spoke louder and more insistent.
    He pounded into the room, dropping his bag on the floor; it made a heavy thud echo throughout the space. “What happened? Are you okay, Ém? Mom, what’s going on?”
    “Pierre, she needs you,” Hélène said, relinquishing their guest to him.
    “I had the worst nightmare. It was so bad.”
    “Do you want to talk about it?” Pierre asked. He rubbed his hands up and down her arms. Ém looked at him and then to his mother. Hélène shook her head as if to tell him not to pry.
    “Are you hungry? How about I make us dinner?” Hélène left without getting an answer.
    Pierre drew Ém into the living room. Rustling sounds spilt out of Hélène’s bedroom. Moments later, she appeared dressed in a coat, holding her purse and an umbrella. “I’ll be right back. Need to get some food for dinner.” Pierre’s beautiful mother sniffled and dabbed at her nose with a tissue. She stepped out of the flat, shutting the door softly.
    “Just so you know my mom’s a terrible cook. Don’t tell her that I told you. It’ll be our secret.” He put his finger to his mouth, making a shushing sound.
    Ém laughed, a blanket of fluid warmth filled her chest. “Were you trying to make me feel better, or is she really that bad of a cook?”
    “I’m telling the truth. Honest. Be careful eating anything she puts in front of you.” He nudged her. “You going to make it?”
    “I think so.” Ém sighed, nestling her head into Pierre’s chest. She could feel his heart beating like the low thump of a drum—a comforting feeling. A minute later, their eyes met and danced from one another’s eyes to lips. Inside, she wanted his lips to brush hers so badly. His head leaned closer—inch by crucial inch—but she lowered her head back to his chest. A heaving breath filtered out of his lungs. She hoped she had not offended him, but knew being intimate with him right now was a terrible idea. The timing was unquestionably off.
    Outside, the wind picked up, and it started to rain. Pierre continued to hold her and rock her back and forth. She felt safe with him, out of danger. But more so, she felt peace being in his presence. The thought of not being with him was too difficult to fathom.
    Please do not leave me , she thought. I need you!
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     

 
    G etting to Know You
     
    Pierre plopped with a deafening thud face first on the floor. He rubbed his eyes, wiping the sleep from them while vibrating a lungful of air out of his lips. Muscles tensing, he hoisted himself up as if he were doing a push up. He remembered why he had fallen asleep: heavy-eyed exhaustion. And then he remembered Ém. Was she okay? He hopped up to his bedroom to see an empty bed. Stupidly, he rummaged through the blankets as if she had shrunk to some doll-sized person and was still there. He backed out of the room almost tripping over his legs. His chest heaved in and out which magnified his sense of helplessness.
    Where could she have gone?
    With the blink of his eye, he spotted her in the small kitchen, watching him, a bright smirk frosting her expression. 
    “Are you all right, Pierre?”
    “Oh.” He wondered if she had seen him fall off the couch. “Ugh. I’m fine. Was worried you left.”
    “No, I am still here,” she said, turning her head away. “Where else would I go?” She brushed a loose hair out of her eye, biting her lower lip. “Uh, so one minute you were sleeping and the next you turned and fell right on your face.” She pointed toward the floor and laughed, but stopped, slapping her hand over her mouth.
    His shoulders rolled forward as boiling heat churned in his cheeks. “No problem. I’ll do that more often if it’ll make you