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Post by Natasha on Jan 10, 2007 2:45:09 GMT -5
Louvre Museum, Paris Friday, September 2, 1988 16:30
It had been a long day, full of museum after tourist trap after other ‘lovely’ places. Frank had grown tired, and the large lunch he and the three friends of his had had didn’t help. Two of the friends were a couple, and the third was a male friend Frank had known since first coming to Germany. Together, the four would often go to parties or bars or, in this case, vacation, together. Something to keep the homesickness at bay, especially when all one got was a card and maybe a package.
However, today was not Frank’s day. He had been punched for supposedly touching some French man’s girlfriend, and after stopping the nose bleed and figuring out that la petite amie meant girlfriend, some stupid ugly pigeon had decided his coat looked like a lovely place to take a crap. Frank was not amused. After the stop at the hotel to drop that off to be cleaned later and pulling on a fresh jacket, he had decided to sit in the rest of the afternoon.
After an hour, however, Frank grew bored in the hotel room. Leaving a note for his friends, who had gone out for a walk, Frank decided to enjoy some of the sights Paris had. His handy French dictionary was in his pocket, with simple phrases to help get him where he needed to, Frank was off. His hair blew in the refreshing wind as he made his way down nearby streets. After some time, he grew bored of just walking and looking and decided perhaps a museum would be worth a stop. They would only be there a few more days, anyway.
His friends often tried to include Frank in a lot of their outings, knowing how he was about relationships. Having been with Brooklynn Garcia for awhile a couple years previous, he had been devastated to find out when he got back that she had slept with what he thought to be his good friend at the time, and she had run off. No matter what he did, Frank was unable to get in contact with her. It was as if she had dropped off the face of the earth, just to spite him. It had led to his desire to not try again, at least for a very long time.
After stopping a couple bystanders and flipping through his handy book, his obvious American accent attempted the French phrase. “Où est le musée.” One laughed at him and kept walking, while another pointed down the street. Following the directions, Frank was excited to find he had been led in the right direction. Heading up the stairs into the museum, he paid his way in and got with the last tour group of the evening. Hanging in the back of the group, Frank put his dictionary away. Perhaps his luck wasn’t so bad, after all!
[[*Where is the museum?]]
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Brooklynn Pratt
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Post by Brooklynn Pratt on Jan 10, 2007 11:30:47 GMT -5
If one said that Brooklynn Garcia never stopped, they wouldn’t have been far wrong. She was on the go all the time, mainly either studying or working. In fact, did she do anything but? The week was always the same, she’d be off to lectures for the day, have lunch on the go, head home and study before she tended to go out for the night with her friends. Then the weekend went the same every week. She’d spend Friday, Saturday and Sunday working at the museum before she went out for a Saturday night and used Sunday evenings to recover before starting over again.
She’d been like this ever since receiving some life changing news. She’d been with an American man, Frank Pratt, from the military and she’d been spending a lot of her free time with him during her holidays and he’d been coming over to her. It had been when he’d left for a few months; Brooklynn had found herself cheating with a friend of Frank’s. This relationship had ended when the friend, Richard, told her that he’d been informed of Frank’s death. Or course Brooklynn had been gutted and was somewhat positive that she’d not be able to start another relationship. She was only still very young at that point, but she had however decided that studying and working to her limit would take her mind off it.
And here she was, stood in front of an obscure painting wearing a black dress suit, blue scarf and a name tag and talking to a group of interested looking tourists. “*Sous le règne de Charles le quatrième (1380-1422), alors que la situation politique et économique en France est de plus en plus difficile, Paris s'affirme comme un foyer intellectuel et artistique de premier ordre. L'exposition illustre l'activité artistique d'une époque à la fois sombre et exceptionnelle.” Brooklynn was saying quickly, wishing that she could get through the rest of this tour so she could get away from the dulling place. “**S’il vous plait la sensation librement pour jeter un coup d'oeil autour et n'hésitent pas à ne poser aucune question. Je suis ici pour aider.” ‘Last one last one’ Brooke was thinking to herself as she watched the stupid tourists wonder off to look at things around the exhibition room.
Wondering into an empty corner, Brooklynn put her hand up to her hair, ensuring it was still perfectly in a tight bun. It was falling out however, and as the blonde strands fell over her face, Brooke glanced around, no one was looking at her. It wouldn’t hurt to just use her wand to tweak it a little. Deciding that sounded good enough, Brooke quickly pulled her wand out from the pocket of her black jacket. She pointed the wand up to her hair and muttered a quick spell, sending the strands back into the bun, coiling around the rest of the hair. She quickly glanced to her left; good no one had seen her.
[*Under the reign of Charles VI (1380-1422), whereas the political and economic situation in France is increasingly difficult, Paris is affirmed like an intellectual and artistic hearth of first order. The exposure illustrates one at the same time dark and exceptional time the artistic activity.] [**Please feel free to take a look around and do not hesitate to ask any questions. I am here to help]
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Post by Natasha on Jan 10, 2007 13:14:44 GMT -5
“Sous le règne de Charles le quatrième (1380-1422), alors que la situation politique et économique en France est de plus en plus difficile, Paris s'affirme comme un foyer intellectuel et artistique de premier ordre. L'exposition illustre l'activité artistique d'une époque à la fois sombre et exceptionnelle.”
With his dictionary in hand, Frank was trying to figure out what quatrième meant when the voice seemed to bring something back to him. Glancing up for a moment, he couldn’t see the blonde woman’s face, or most of her, for that matter, as she was hardly visible over the crowd. That voice… it… brought back… sounded like… but, no. Many women sounded like her.
Trying to catch the last word she said, piecing together some of the words he knew, he at least got that some guy named Charles ruled in France, and Paris was intellectual and artsy. After that, he just got lost. Scratching the back of his head, he figured that he could just enjoy the sights and put his little book away… Pocketing it back, Frank listened to the voice, and tried not to focus on the words. She was talking too fast, though he didn’t mind.
The voice was taking him back to other times, good times, and smiling to himself, he started to wander around, glancing at certain items here and there. Frank wasn’t really paying attention to what he was looking at, so absorbed in what he was thinking of. Turning around in a circle, he started back to the group, moving up closer to the tour guide. Now he wanted to see what she looked like… it was gnawing at him.
“ S’il vous plait la sensation librement pour jeter un coup d'oeil autour et n'hésitent pas à ne poser aucune question. Je suis ici pour aider.”
Just as he got up to the front of the group, everyone started to move away. And there she was… Stunned, Frank stood still, trying to work his way around this bizarre twist of fates. No wonder it had sounded like Brooke… A couple people moved in front of him, and he came out of his daze. Moving to her right, Frank slowly made his way along the exhibits, glancing at the walls as if to seem like he was enjoying the museum.
Then she moved into a corner, and Frank frowned as he moved closer. He frowned even deeper as he saw her wand come out. Brooklynn Garcia… should’ve known better. After her hair was fixed, Frank moved a little quicker, coming up beside her though she was looking the other way. Gently tapping her shoulder, he made his voice low. “Some people should learn to hide those in public, Brooklynn…” Now, to wait.
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Brooklynn Pratt
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Muggle Studies Teacher, Cat Animagus, Global Mod
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Post by Brooklynn Pratt on Jan 10, 2007 16:45:58 GMT -5
The hair was in place and Brooke was seriously wishing she could just apparate from the room without being spotted so she could be back in her tiny bed-sit with a book and a cup if strong coffee.
“Some people should learn to hide those in public, Brooklynn…”
Brooke didn’t look up; she only frowned and shoved the wand back into her pocket. “It’s simply a wooden stick.” She muttered slowly, her French accent obvious compared to the man’s, stupid ignorant American man. “Us French women are odd like that.” She was perfectly calm about just being caught with the wand, the voice however took a while to register and the accent soon reminded her of someone. Nah, that someone was dead. She knew he was dead. But how did he know her name? Oh yes, she had a tag with it on. That was a little obvious.
“Is there anything..” she began, looking up to the man before her voice trailed off and her face lots it’s colour as the man’s face registered in her brain. Instantly she took a step back and her eyes grew wide, the bright blue in them standing out incredibly now. “You…” no, she was making a mistake. This man simply looked like him and sounded like him and…smelt like him. Frank was dead, he was not standing directly in front of her. She’d been told how he died as well. There was no way that had been a mistake.
“S…sorry, you look familiar.” She corrected herself, brushing her fingers through her hair, making it as though she’d not just done a thing to it. But his messy hair, the same eyes…looking up at his face, Brooke shook her head, the same height compared to her. No, she just wanted to get away from this man, he was too similar. Should she tell him he looked identical to a dead person she’d once felt strongly for? No, instead she just nodded to him before taking another step back and moving to turn around before she stopped and looked back at him.
“Sorry, you really look like someone…are you in…any relation to…” what was she doing? He was an American man that had simply come away for a holiday and she was probably freaking him out. “*J’ai désolé” she added, completely freaking out herself.
[*I’m sorry]
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Post by Natasha on Jan 10, 2007 17:28:43 GMT -5
“It’s simply a wooden stick… Us French women are odd like that.”
His throat hurt from the lump there. Yes, it was Brooke… Frowning, his face full of the emotion that had filled him since he’d gotten back… anger, betrayal, love, confusion, loss… it was all back, and he couldn’t stop it. But, her accent… it was her. A tug at his heart pulled him closer, though he realized she probably didn’t want to see him. But it was just like her to deny what he had seen.
“Is there anything… You…”
His eyebrows rose from her look of shock. Her step back made him frown, though, and he took a step forward. What was she doing? She was… acting so silly. Perhaps because she had tried to leave him in the dust after cheating on him. The anger flared up, and he frowned. Frank wondered if it was guilt she was showing. “You act as if you’ve seen a ghost.”
“S…sorry, you look familiar.”
Her hair… blinking as she messed it up, he did let out a soft chuckle. Oh, well, she’d realize later. At least she was acting nervous; she should be, after what she put him through. Damn her. Why had she run away? Then she took another step back, and he didn’t follow. Perhaps she didn’t want to see him… But when she moved to turn away, he took a step forward. His words died on his lips, though, because she turned back.
“Sorry, you really look like someone…are you in…any relation to…J’ai désolé.”
Now she was worrying him. But it was kind of silly, so he couldn’t help but laugh softly. “Brooke… why…” Shaking his head, he glanced down at his hands. He wanted answers to his questions, but figured that would be asking too much. Finally, he glanced back up at her, and gave her a soft smile, running his fingers through his hair. “I look like someone? Trying to forget me?” He supposed she would want to.
Taking a step closer, he glanced around to see if many people were watching them. “Are all French women so forgetful?” She looked more beautiful than the last time he’d seen her. “You … aren’t… working as a lifeguard anymore, I see. What a…” What was the right way to act? “What have you been doing with yourself?” They had both grown over the few years since last they were together. He figured she was with someone. How could she not be? She was lovely. "I mean, a museum? Never thought you'd work somewhere..." He couldn't get it all out. Surreal...
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Brooklynn Pratt
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Muggle Studies Teacher, Cat Animagus, Global Mod
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Post by Brooklynn Pratt on Jan 10, 2007 18:01:07 GMT -5
“You act as if you’ve seen a ghost.”
One was standing right in front of her. Well, he wasn’t transparent, but the man she thought he was, was dead. He wasn’t Frank. Yet he acted like he knew her. No, he couldn’t know her. The American was mad. That was it. “I think I have.” She whispered, trying to comprehend the site in front of her. Brooke pinched her arm and upon wincing slightly, knew this was reality. No dream.
“Brooke… why…”
The man was laughing. He was actually laughing at her. No, Brooke couldn’t stand this. Maybe he’d come back to ‘haunt’ her because she’d cheated on him. Well technically it hadn’t been cheating. She’d simply taken apart of another man’s company while he was away. But then he’d been away permanently. And now his twin or something stood right in front of her.
“I look like someone? Trying to forget me?”
The odd American took a step forward and Brooke simultaneously moved back, nearly into a statue. Her eyes were even wider and her mouth now open “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She replied, glancing around. This wasn’t Frank. It was impossible. Brooke kept telling herself that as her eyes moved back onto his. He was smiling and she was looking shocked. She just didn’t know how to react. How did one react when they saw a dead person?
“Are all French women so forgetful? You … aren’t… working as a lifeguard anymore, I see. What a… What have you been doing with yourself?”
It was official. The man was mad. But then he mentioned her being a lifeguard and her face went even whiter. This was just scary now. Why did he have to know that about her? It just made her feel cold and she felt goose bumps come up on her skin. It was indeed like one of the novels she used to read. Not for once had she ever thought she’d see a person that was supposed to be dead while she was working.
"I mean, a museum? Never thought you'd work somewhere..."
Brooke had to say something now and so she stood her ground, looking straight up at the man she had to give him her piece of mind. “Okay, you might look like him,” she waved her arms around while speaking quietly and quickly, trying not to attract attention, “you might sound like him. You might even have his tattoo. But will you never be him.” She took a step towards the man, pointing a long red fingernail at him. “If you think for one minute you can trick me like this then think again. Frank is dead! So get out of character and go home.”
She turned her back on the man while letting out an exasperated moan. Right, best thing to do was to move the group on, then she’d get rid of the man quicker and get to go home and forget about the whole thing. But had she just made a mistake in what she’d just said?
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Post by Natasha on Jan 10, 2007 18:18:24 GMT -5
“I think I have.”
Perhaps that is how she felt after not seeing him for so long. He certainly felt a little like that, but didn’t react quite like she had. When she pinched herself, Frank grunted. “That’s only going to hurt…” No, it wasn’t a dream. He was too uncomfortable… Would she just say something that made sense?
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
When she took a step back, Frank frowned and stayed still. Putting his hands up, he shook his head. “Brooke… what? Why… I mean, I understand you ran away for whatever reason, but… to act like this now is just ridiculous.” Now, he was hurt. She had to act like she didn’t know him? His smile was long gone, and he just frowned at her. She was obviously still shocked, as she should be!
“Okay, you might look like him… You might sound like him. You might even have his tattoo. But will you never be him.”
This was ridiculous… Of course he had his tattoo, and sounded like he did, and… what was she pulling? It was seriously something from the Twilight Zone. Her arm waving made him glance around, making sure no one was attracted to the commotion. Good… turning back to her, he frowned and stepped back in surprise as she advanced. That finger came up towards him, and he put his hands up once again, as if to ward her off.
“If you think for one minute you can trick me like this then think again. Frank is dead! So get out of character and go home.”
His eyes widened as she continued, shaking his head as he was told he was dead. That made him laugh loudly, drawing a few people to look at him, giving him a mean glance, and look away. With her back to him, he tried to think of how to respond. Moving up behind her, he paused as his arms came up, thinking over what she had said. Finally, though, he wrapped his arms around her waist, pinning her arms down so she wouldn’t beat him, but not tight where it would hurt. Moving his lips to her ear, he let out a soft breath.
“Frank… I am not dead.” Kissing her neck softly, he was glad they were in the corner. “If I were, I wouldn’t be able to do that.” Loosening an arm to run his fingertips down her arm, he smiled softly. “Nor that…” His smile faded as he thought over it. Who had told her he was dead? “I… how… who told you I was dead? I tried finding you…” The lump was back in his throat, and he thought about it a moment. “After I found out… about you and Richard, I… well, you were gone by then.”
Pulling away from Brooke, he took a couple steps back. Right, Richard. He felt sick to his stomach now. Get out of character… Running his fingertips through his hair, he laughed softly again. “I don’t know what to do to convince you, Brooke, but perhaps it’s not worth it.” Why was he at the museum? The walls were kind of closing in. “Ah, I’ll be… I should leave.” He wanted to move to the exit, wanted desperately get out before he said something he would regret, or do something he didn’t want to do. It wasn’t until he saw her in person, felt her in his arms, that he realized how much she’d meant to him.
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Brooklynn Pratt
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Post by Brooklynn Pratt on Jan 11, 2007 2:06:05 GMT -5
“Brooke… what? Why… I mean, I understand you ran away for whatever reason, but… to act like this now is just ridiculous.”
Brooke was beyond freaked out and all she could do was stare at the man while trying to piece the words together. She was being ridiculous? There was a dead person standing right in front of her and she was being ridiculous. She’d never run away, just moved so she cold focus on something other than the man she lik…no, she loved dying. What was she to do but take her mind off it? Or was he there because she was trying to forget him and that wasn’t right? Maybe she was the only one who could see him. Or dreams…couldn’t pinching still hurt then?
With her back to Frank, Brooke was going over everything in her head as she tried to think about what she’d done to deserve someone to play this sort of a trick on her. Well they had gotten their reaction so why couldn’t they just leave now? It was upon that thought that a pair of arms wrapped around Brooke’s waist, pinning her arms down so she couldn’t get away. Her breathing quickened as she was about to get quite angry with this continuing charade.
“Frank… I am not dead.”
Brooke had been about to say something but then he starting kissing her neck just like Frank did. This was so wrong. So weird. She’d not been held like that for a long time and she didn’t expect to be. A single tear swelled up in her eye and she wasn’t able to brush it away as her arms were still pinned down. This was however allowing her to think about the possibility that it was Frank. He even felt like him.
“If I were, I wouldn’t be able to do that.” Loosening an arm to run his fingertips down her arm, he smiled softly. “Nor that…”
Her eyes were wide and her mouth open as she was trying to comprehend this. He was…he had to be Frank. But that would have meant…no, she wouldn’t have been lied to; she’d seen the letter stating it. Richard had given to her to prove it. How could that have been wrong? It even had a seal and…
“I… how… who told you I was dead? I tried finding you… After I found out… about you and Richard, I… well, you were gone by then.”
Frank pulled away and Brooke took a step away from him before turning to face him. Another tear was now running down her cheek but she hurried to wipe that before looking up at him. It was him. There was no other way someone could be so similar. “Richard showed me a letter from your officer to say that you’d died. Some sort of fire. I didn’t understand most of it. And I left him and my home when I found out. I couldn’t stay around there.” All the memories this was bringing back and Brooke folded her arms, looking away.
“I don’t know what to do to convince you, Brooke, but perhaps it’s not worth it. Ah, I’ll be… I should leave.”
What was she doing? She needed to stop him. It was him. She couldn’t let him go now. “Look, I have just seen a dead person. Forgive me if I’m not rushing into your arms.” She said bluntly. No, that wouldn’t do the trick. “I…look…” she closed her eyes, piecing a sentence together in her mind. “Just tell me one thing. Is this some sort of sick joke where everyone is going to jump out shouting ‘got ya!’?”
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Post by Natasha on Jan 11, 2007 2:26:07 GMT -5
Frank’s head was filled with a hundred different thoughts, emotions, and also a very surprising empty feeling. He had heard her breathing pick up, felt her tense up under his arms, and then relax as well. So she must have remembered something… She wasn’t talking, though, and he wondered what she was waiting for.
When he finally did let her go and move away, she did as well. The tear that he saw slide down her cheek made him want to reach out and stop it, but he kept himself there. She wiped it just fine. His face bordered on concern mixed with the ache that was in his stomach. Fate had an odd sense of humor.
“Richard showed me a letter from your officer to say that you’d died. Some sort of fire. I didn’t understand most of it. And I left him and my home when I found out. I couldn’t stay around there.”
Licking his lips at this, Frank had no idea how to respond. In some way, he thought perhaps she deserved it for what she did to him. Cheating with Richard… that was just… it had hurt. But then she had left… Shaking his head, he thought over where the ‘fire letter’ could’ve been from. Then it clicked. “Oh…” His hand in front of his mouth, he remembered all too well what had happened. “No, Brooke… you… Richard’s an idiot.”
Sighing, he shook his head again and stepped forward towards her, not too close, just so he wouldn’t have to talk very loud. “They mixed me up with a fellow worker who had same first name. His last name was Princeton.” While he had been stationed where they were, Frank had gotten to know Princeton well. “I was in the fire, but I got out, he didn’t… They mixed up our names at first, though once I got out of the hospital I fixed it.”
Yes, his parents would have had quite the panic if he hadn’t caught it in time. “I have no clue how Richard got a hold of it…” His dear pal, Richard, hadn’t informed Frank of that part of the story. He might have been more forgiving of Brooke’s actions if that had been the case. As it was, he thought she left and didn’t want anything to do with him.
“Look, I have just seen a dead person. Forgive me if I’m not rushing into your arms… I…look…”
Frank wanted to leave. He didn’t want to be in the museum anymore, didn’t want to be near Brooke, didn’t want to be in Paris or France or… he just wanted to leave. But, he waited, for whatever reason, he waited. Perhaps it was the fact he wanted to hear from Brooke she still cared. Or to at least hear why she acted the way she did.
“Just tell me one thing. Is this some sort of sick joke where everyone is going to jump out shouting ‘got ya!’?”
Frowning at this, Frank shook his head. “No… that would be a very sick joke.” He had thought to pull his ID card out, but that just seemed ridiculous. She either knew it was him, or she didn’t, and he’d leave either way. Glancing down at his feet, Frank didn’t know what else to say to her.
He felt like he had said so much, and yet not enough. He wanted to tell her he’d missed her, that he did love her, and that he didn’t want to let her go again. However… something in him refused to let him do that. Pride, maybe. Oh, well, something came out before he could stop himself. "I missed you... I mean, I didn't come here looking for you. I ... It's good to see you."
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Brooklynn Pratt
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Post by Brooklynn Pratt on Jan 11, 2007 2:53:46 GMT -5
“They mixed me up with a fellow worker who had same first name. His last name was Princeton.”
Keeping her arms folded and her eyes on Frank’s, Brooke was now wondering what he was going to come out with. She wondered if it would be rubbish or complete truth. In fact, how would she know either way? But she slowed her breathing down and listened to him. Ensuring she was a couple of paces away. She didn’t fancy this being some joke or trick and her being so close to the arse that was doing this.
“I was in the fire, but I got out, he didn’t… They mixed up our names at first, though once I got out of the hospital I fixed it.”
This seemed too perfect to be true. How could someone be stupid enough to mix up something like that? How could someone in the military be that dense? Brooke didn’t know whether to believe it or not. It sounded feasible however and she was just hoping it was. If not, she was getting emotional over nothing. What was she doing? Brooklynn Garcia never got emotional. The only person she’d ever really cried over was…Frank.
“I have no clue how Richard got a hold of it…”
Brooke sent a quick glance to the side, ensuring people were still looking around, there was an elderly man staring at her and Frank and Brooke simply smiled warmly at him before looking back at Frank and her smile dropped. “I don’t know how, but he did. He even told me all the great gory bits about what had happened and how the fire started. Obviously feeling I wasn’t upset enough.” She replied bitterly. She didn’t want to give this man an easy ride to come into her life.
“No… that would be a very sick joke.”
The eyes grew wide quickly and Brooke’s head shot up to stare Frank’s straight in the eyes. “Well It’s also a sick joke to make people think you’re dead! Especially someone that l…” she cut herself short, not wanting to go any further right now. She felt too open to suddenly break down in the middle of the museum and that would be awful.
"I missed you... I mean, I didn't come here looking for you. I ... It's good to see you."
“Well it’s been interesting to see you. I didn’t think I could feel guilty, upset, hurt, angry, terrified and happy at the self same time.” She sighed and bit her tongue. She had to think about what to say. Maybe she should explain why she’d been with Richard. Didn’t she owe Frank that much? Even with him supposedly being dead.
“Look, you’re probably thinking that I went with Richard to spite you or something. Well the truth is, I never got replies to my letters, It was as though you were blanking me out. I was upset and he was…there.” That took a lot to finally get that out and Brooke looked down, now feeling far too open.
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Post by Natasha on Jan 11, 2007 3:15:28 GMT -5
“I don’t know how, but he did. He even told me all the great gory bits about what had happened and how the fire started. Obviously feeling I wasn’t upset enough.”
Frowning, Frank shook his head. He hadn’t bothered to glance at the old man who was staring. “Richard didn’t have clearance to know of how it started.” What an ass… Frank had hated coming home, hoping to find Brooke, and instead being told by Richard how he had had a great time entertaining Brooke. Pushing those thoughts from his head for now, he continued. “The… the ‘great gory bits’ aren’t very great, and not very gory. I lost a friend in that fire.”
Sometimes he thought it should have been him. Princeton had a family back in Germany, two children who were just in diapers. And to be ridiculed by Richard when he did get back made Frank snap on him… Lucky for Frank, they classified his fury that sent Richard to the hospital as post traumatic stress. Richard transferred bases and Frank never had to hear of him again.
“Well It’s also a sick joke to make people think you’re dead! Especially someone that I…”
Staring hard at Brooke, frowning deeply, he took a step towards her, finger pointed at her. “Now, you listen here, Brooklynn. I didn’t make you think I was dead, Richard did. He’s an asshole.” His anger stoked, he continued, though he kept his voice low enough. “I came back to hear how the girl who I loved had slept with a friend, after losing a couple buddies. What a welcome home gift that was.” Taking a deep breath, he tried to relax, tried to keep his emotions locked up.
“Well it’s been interesting to see you. I didn’t think I could feel guilty, upset, hurt, angry, terrified, and happy at the self same time.”
Interesting to see him… What a lovely way of putting it. Frowning at that, Frank stood up a little straighter. “Congratulations on being able to mutli task, Brooklynn.” He shouldn’t have expected her to leap into his arms and cry on his shoulder. Shouldn’t have hoped she would express her feelings for him and say that nothing Richard said was true. However, this was not fantasy land.
“Look, you’re probably thinking that I went with Richard to spite you or something. Well the truth is, I never got replies to my letters, It was as though you were blanking me out. I was upset and he was…there.”
“You never what?!” Frank’s anger was back again, and he stepped closer to her. He didn’t care a few people had turned to watch due to the volume of his voice. Throwing a hand out, waving it in the air, he started in on her. “I sent you quite a few letters, and never got a response either. We moved to a few different bases, and after a while I just stopped writing. When I got home, I was told why I didn’t get any response.”
His eyes were watering, and they itched, and his face was red with fury. “Richard let me know how you went to him after I left, and that you wanted to get serious with him. He told me that when he told you he didn’t want to, you left.” Taking in another deep breath, he had somehow moved closer to Brooke. “I was devastated upon returning. He didn’t even let me unpack my things before he told me. So it’s been interesting to see you too, Brooklynn.”
Wiping the tear away, Frank refused to let his emotions take him over again. He had cried over Brooke once, he didn’t feel like doing it again. Turning around, he started stalking towards the exit sign, gritting his teeth as his hands clenched at his side. He should’ve known better. Always an idiot.
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Brooklynn Pratt
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Post by Brooklynn Pratt on Jan 11, 2007 11:35:26 GMT -5
“The… the ‘great gory bits’ aren’t very great, and not very gory. I lost a friend in that fire.”
Brooke let out a sigh and looked away from Frank. Yes she was sorry about his friend, but she thought he’d died in that. It had nearly killed her when she’d found out and here she was, being spoken to like it was obvious nothing had happened to him. “I’d lost you.” She replied, her eyes finally gliding up to land on him.
“Now, you listen here, Brooklynn. I didn’t make you think I was dead, Richard did. He’s an asshole. I came back to hear how the girl who I loved had slept with a friend, after losing a couple buddies. What a welcome home gift that was.”
Brooke’s mouth dropped open once more. “But what…what!?” what Frank had said had just registered in Brooke’s mind and she looked at Frank as if he’d grown a second nose. “Girl you loved?” she repeated, stunned. Frank had never said that before about her. Their relationship hadn’t been like that. They’d been with each other a long time, but he’d never said he loved her. He said he’d miss her a lot before he went away, but they’d never mentioned love.
“You never what?! I sent you quite a few letters, and never got a response either. We moved to a few different bases, and after a while I just stopped writing. When I got home, I was told why I didn’t get any response.”
The raised voice caused Brooke to take another step back as she backed into the corner. No way for her to move back further. He never got her letters? She’d sent them. She’d watched the owl take off with the letters. “What are you talking about? I sent you letters. I sent so many letters. I watched the bloody owl leave with them. And it returned, without the letters. Without replies.” She said back, quietly, trying to keep her voice down at least so not to attract any more attention than they already had done. This was after all her work and she couldn’t afford to loose her job for having an argument in the middle of an exhibition. She needed this job to afford to live outside of the University.
“Richard let me know how you went to him after I left, and that you wanted to get serious with him. He told me that when he told you he didn’t want to, you left. I was devastated upon returning. He didn’t even let me unpack my things before he told me. So it’s been interesting to see you too, Brooklynn.”
With every word, Brooke’s eyes widened more and she was biting her tongue, very hard. This was preposterous. Richard had said that? She couldn’t believe this, couldn’t get her head around it. “I…he said what?” she had to calm herself down as her anger was beginning to flare up. She had to stay calm though, shouting where they were would look even worse.
Before Brooke could say anything else, Frank was heading towards the exit. She had to think quickly. Putting her hand in her pocket and on her wand, Brooke quickly caught up with Frank grabbed his arm, and they were gone with a crack.
Appearing in a dim alley, Brooke let go of Frank and took her wand from her pocket. “So you believe the arse and aren’t going to listen to what I have to say?” she asked quickly. Without giving him a chance to reply however, she carried on. “I did not come running as soon as you’d left. A long time after you were gone, and I was getting no responses to my letters, I was upset one night. He came over to cheer me up, a shoulder to cry on. It just turned out to be more than that and I’m not going to go into that.”
She shook her head and continued. “The point is, I never told him I wanted to be serious. I was lonely, that was it. But then he showed me this letter and I couldn’t comprehend it. I left him and after a while, came here.” Taking in a deep breath, Brooke thought about how to finish it. “I never ran away. I never wanted any thing more with him. And I certainly didn’t expect my dead boyfriend to show up in Paris.”
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Post by Natasha on Jan 11, 2007 12:39:50 GMT -5
“I’d lost you.”
Letting out a quick breath, he didn’t know how to respond to that. No, she wouldn’t get off that easily… He… Frank felt like he was back in the fire, remembering the ‘great gory bits,’ as Brooke had so easily called them. Sometimes they haunted him in his sleep, though he had gotten it off his mind for the past couple months.
“But what…what!? Girl you loved?”
It had come out of his mouth before he could stop it… Obviously the word had knocked Brooke back a moment. Now he had to find a way out of the hole he had dug. Looking down, his jaw tight, he opened his mouth once, couldn’t speak, tried again. “Yes…” They hadn’t said that to one another, but the more he was without her, the more he realized what she had meant to him.
And now, she must think him crazy. “I did… or I do… or, you know, it’s not important anymore.” Shaking his head, his eyes finally came back into focus and he pulled his gaze up from the floor, staring at her. He was too angry to go into all the mushy detail that he could tell from her reaction she didn’t want to hear.
“What are you talking about? I sent you letters. I sent so many letters. I watched the bloody owl leave with them. And it returned, without the letters. Without replies.”
Frank did feel bad for backing Brooke in the corner. She was calm, collected, quiet. He was anything but… Everything he had wanted to say if he ever saw her again refused to come out. The one thing he had said, that he had loved her, had blown up in his face. However, the thing with the letters confused him. He had no clue how he hadn’t gotten the letters. “I… I didn’t get them.” Frowning, he shook his head. “I don’t know… I… I wonder where they went…”
“I…he said what?”
Oh, now she wanted to play the confused girl? He had waited, waited for her, and all he had to go off of for the past couple years was what Richard had said. No one disputed him, and the story never changed, even when Frank had beat the living crap out of him. Then again, after one was thrown through a glass window, they were probably not going to be talking much sense anyway.
Intent on leaving the museum, Frank had no idea where he would go. His anger had built up, and somehow he would find his way back to the hotel. But first, he just had to get out of here. When he felt a hand grasp his arm, he started to turn around when he felt dizzy and the area around them changed. When his arm was let go, Frank stumbled to the side and fell over. Shaking his head, he stood back up, glancing at Brooke. She hadn’t given him a warning…
“So you believe the arse and aren’t going to listen to what I have to say? I did not come running as soon as you’d left. A long time after you were gone, and I was getting no responses to my letters, I was upset one night. He came over to cheer me up, a shoulder to cry on. It just turned out to be more than that and I’m not going to go into that.”
Since she was talking so quickly, her accent making it difficult to catch every word, Frank listened intently. Sometimes he wanted to push the slow down button, so she would talk at the rate of a normal person. Opening his mouth after she asked him if he would listen to what she had to say, he hadn’t even had a chance to say anything before she jumped back on him.
He was very thankful she wasn’t going to go into it, and he couldn’t help but mutter a “Thank God.” No, he didn’t want any more images in his head than Richard had supplied him with. Her story made more sense, as Frank hadn’t thought Brooke was unhappy with him. Not enough, at least, to sleep with his friend once he was gone. That they had three shared the secret of having a wand and knowing how to use it had made Frank trust Richard. And made it so easy to believe him.
“The point is, I never told him I wanted to be serious. I was lonely, that was it. But then he showed me this letter and I couldn’t comprehend it. I left him and after a while, came here… I never ran away. I never wanted any thing more with him. And I certainly didn’t expect my dead boyfriend to show up in Paris.”
Letting out some breath he had been holding, Frank felt relief over her statements. Good, Richard deserved every punch and beating he got. It still hurt that Brooke had slept with him, but at least some of the sting was taken away. It was understandable, if not excusable, what she did. It wasn’t what he had expected… something inside had wanted her to say she wanted more with Frank. But she didn’t, and he felt a pain in his chest over it.
“If I knew I was dead, I wouldn’t have shown up…” Taking in a slow breath, he wanted to hug her, wanted to feel her against him again. But how do you start making up for the lost time? It just wasn’t something to comprehend. “I’m sorry… I didn’t have your side of the story.” A small smile came to his lips, however, and he shrugged as he glanced down. “I got him back for his lies, though… Cost me some things… but it was worth it.” The psych evaluation was almost as bad as having been demoted for a period of time.
Glancing around the alley, he finally turned his eyes to Brooke. “Listen… I…” Sighing, he stepped forward, closer to her. “I want to make up for the time lost… I miss you. And I… love you.” That was harder to say when it was something he consciously realized he wanted to say. “I mean, it took me a long time to realize it, but I did… And then I came home, and you had disappeared. It’s crushed me. Or it did crush me… but I saw you again, and I just felt… normal.”
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Brooklynn Pratt
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Post by Brooklynn Pratt on Jan 11, 2007 13:33:19 GMT -5
“Yes… I did… or I do… or, you know, it’s not important anymore.”
Brooke frowned deeply. She was indeed in shock, less shock then before, but she was still stunned. He loved her. The way he was acting towards her however made her feel different. Frank was a great guy and a man like that to love her should have made her feel great. She did however just feel confused. He could have at least acted like it was true. He was acting as though she’d done the worst thing in the world. He was thinking her reaction to him was stupid. He was supposed to be dead!
But did Brooke love Frank back? She’d thought she did, and seeing him again brought back many feelings. Whether those feelings were simply of guilt, Brooke couldn’t figure out. Didn’t they feel the same? “I…of course it’s important.” Brooke finally said, looking down at her black high heeled shoes. Yes, they were better than Frank’s face at the moment.
“If I knew I was dead, I wouldn’t have shown up…”
Brooke smiled weakly. That sentence sounded so incredibly odd and she couldn’t help it. Frank still seemed to be hurt by what she’d been saying and she didn’t blame him. But she honestly hadn’t classed what she did as wrong or cheating. She’d thought he’d finished with her by not bothering anymore, so she’d moved on. Yes, it had been with his friend and that part had been a bad choice, but he’d been there for her.
“I’m sorry… I didn’t have your side of the story. I got him back for his lies, though… Cost me some things… but it was worth it.”
“No, you didn’t have my side.” Brooke replied bluntly before thinking about what he’d said. “But what did you do to him? And…what did it cost you?” It sounded bad. Frank didn’t seem like the kind of guy to attack someone, but if he was angry and this guy had been with the girl he ‘loved’ then perhaps he would have. Richard had betrayed him. Just as Brooke had. But you didn’t sleep with your best mate’s girlfriend when she was upset.
“I want to make up for the time lost… I miss you. And I… love you.”
Brooke was fiddling with the sleeve of her jacket. Then he said he loved her again and she felt herself tense up. Could she bring herself to say it in response yet? He was really close to her now and she had no idea of what to say to him. She could have said she loved him, but she couldn’t bring it to come out of her mouth. Wow, her shoes sure were interesting now.
“I mean, it took me a long time to realize it, but I did… And then I came home, and you had disappeared. It’s crushed me. Or it did crush me… but I saw you again, and I just felt… normal.”
“I saw you and nearly fainted.” Brooke replied, half joking. It was so surreal. She’d come to terms with Frank’s death and then he’d just turned up beside her. Looking up at Frank, Brooke moved closer to him and pulled him into a hug, pulling him tightly to her. “I…I love you.” She muttered into his chest, a tear dripping down her cheek. She’d finally said it! “I heard you were dead and it nearly killed me.” She admitted. As Brooke said more, it became easier.
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Post by Natasha on Jan 11, 2007 17:15:27 GMT -5
“I…of course it’s important.”
Obviously. She was acting like someone who was given a birthday gift they didn’t want, but still had to act like they liked it. Just the fact she looked at her feet instead of his face told him all he needed to know, he thought. It was just infuriating… he felt feelings for a woman who didn’t feel them back.
“No, you didn’t have my side… But what did you do to him? And…what did it cost you?”
How could he have had her side? It wasn’t like she left him a note with what happened, or an address to find her. No, she absolutely disappeared. Then she asked what he did to him, and Frank hesitated. For now, he’d spare her all the ‘great gory details,’ though he was rather proud of them. “I put him in the hospital.” Glancing down at his hands, he smiled softly. It had been so worth it. “What it cost me, like I said, was worth it.”
Shrugging, he thought it over. “I was demoted for a period of time, until I got my psych evaluation, and once that was back they figured it was due to the stress of seeing my friend killed and I snapped.” Rubbing the back of his head, he shrugged. “I worked to get my rank back, and Richard didn’t press charges. The one smart thing he did do. He said it was probably his fault, and took a new assignment.” Perhaps it was because Frank had made him realize that if he used his wand, no one would be able to figure out it was Frank.
“I saw you and nearly fainted.”
Raising an eyebrow, Frank had watched Brooke act nervous. He told her how he felt, he wasn’t going to be ashamed of it. If she wanted to leave now because of it, he was going to accept that. It made sense, though, that she had had a difficult time seeing him after thinking him dead. Poor Brooke, to go through that… His thoughts were there when he realized Brooke was moving closer. As she wrapped her arms around him, his eyes widened, unsure of what to do. Wrapping his arms around her, it felt nice.
“I…I love you.”
That felt good to hear. Biting his lower lip, he rested his cheek against the top of her head, gently running his palm up and down her back. Frank hadn’t been able to decide if seeing Brooke again was lucky or unlucky, but by this point, he could easily deduce that it didn’t matter. She said she loved him, and he was holding her, and everything would be okay…
“I heard you were dead and it nearly killed me.”
Moving his hand up to gently smooth her hair, he kissed the top of her head. “I searched for you… I didn’t think there could be anything worse than what I felt. Knowing you were somewhere and being unable to find you. Having things to tell you, but not knowing how to tell them. It…” Biting back the choked up feeling in his throat, he shook his head slightly. “It crushed me.” He didn’t want to let her go… didn’t want to say goodbye… she was back in his life, and he wanted to do nothing but hold her.
Glancing up and around at the dark alley, Frank frowned. “Can we go… somewhere else?” Licking his lips, he thought over it. “My hotel, perhaps? We can talk more, and not have to worry about someone mugging us.” Smiling, he kissed the top of her head again, rocking side to side with her in his arms. Yes, this was something he had missed…
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Brooklynn Pratt
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Post by Brooklynn Pratt on Jan 11, 2007 18:01:01 GMT -5
“I put him in the hospital.”
Eye wide, Brooke was now wondering if she actually wanted to know. She did question whether he used a wand or not. Or maybe it had been a full on physical attack. Frank was strong a Richard was…not as strong. In fact, Brooke could now only imagine what had happened with the rage Frank probably had about what Richard had told him. Not man could react well to their closest mate sleeping with their girlfriend then boasting about it. “Oh.”
“I was demoted for a period of time, until I got my psych evaluation, and once that was back they figured it was due to the stress of seeing my friend killed and I snapped. I worked to get my rank back, and Richard didn’t press charges. The one smart thing he did do. He said it was probably his fault, and took a new assignment.”
This was a lot to take in and Brooke was keeping her gaze on Frank. He’d become more attractive in the last few years and he certainly was gorgeous. In fact, it was difficult to believe that he’d not slept with someone else during their time away. Well perhaps he hadn’t. If he really did love her as he said he did. “A psych evaluation?” Brooke still wasn’t sure about some of their English words. Why would Frank need an Evaluation? “And he’d gone then? For good…pretty much?”
“I searched for you… I didn’t think there could be anything worse than what I felt. Knowing you were somewhere and being unable to find you. Having things to tell you, but not knowing how to tell them. It… It crushed me.”
Brooke gripped Frank’s jacket, pulling him against her. She wanted him near to her, holding her. It felt so right. She’d never thought she’d feel that again. She was only twenty one and she’d felt like she could never have gone into another relationship. The guilt she’d felt upon Frank’s ‘death’ had been too much for her. But here he was holding her and Brooke tried to hold the few tears back as they fought to fall down her cheek. She didn’t cry! She never cried!
“I had things to tell you. Things to apologise for.” Brooke admitted. Wow, the whole truth thing did happen to work quite well. Had Frank forgiven her? She didn’t know. But it was at least a good sign that he was holding her and not letting go.
“Can we go… somewhere else? My hotel, perhaps? We can talk more, and not have to worry about someone mugging us.”
Brooke lifted her head up and pulled back slightly from Frank to look up into his face. “That would be brilliant. If I didn’t have a job I have to keep. I loose it and I don’t eat.” She replied bluntly. “Look, meet me later at a restaurant around the corner called Mon havre belle at seven thirty. You can’t miss it the place.” With a quick smile, Brooke leaned up, softly kissing Frank’s lips before she pulled away, put her hand on her wand in her pocket and she appararated out of site.
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Post by Natasha on Jan 12, 2007 0:21:43 GMT -5
“Oh.” Yes… Oh. He saw how she reacted. It was something Frank was both ashamed of and glad he did. Richard deserved it, but Frank had also been a bit harsh… It would have been nicer if he had used his wand. But no, he had physical aggression to work out. Oh, well, it was in the past. “A psych evaluation? And he’d gone then? For good…pretty much?” Frowning, he hadn’t wanted to have to explain to her what that meant. Damn… they needed to work on her English more… “Make sure you have all your wits?” He did, but… he had suffered some post traumatic stress from seeing his friend die. So when it came to that, they wrote it off as that and kept an eye on him until he exhibited no more symptoms. “Yes, he’s gone somewhere else, not allowed to be on same base as me if it can be helped.” Or perhaps it had been the other way around, he wasn’t on the same base as Richard… It didn’t matter, either way. He was done, gone, and would think twice before messing with Frank once again. He just hoped he never saw the creep again. “I had things to tell you. Things to apologise for.” The tighter she gripped him, the more Frank felt better. It was just something that worked out. Letting her go was not an option at that point. He had regretted not telling her before he left how he felt about her, but hoped he could make up for it. He still had no idea if she was seeing anyone, but by her reaction to him, she was at least happy to see him. Frank kissed the top of her head again, still rocking. “I had things to tell you, too.” Never again… “That would be brilliant. If I didn’t have a job I have to keep. I loose it and I don’t eat.” Frowning slightly as she pulled back a little, he nodded slowly. He understood the necessity of a job. Running his fingertips through the hair that was down, he still couldn’t believe it was Brooke… Smiling softly, he shook his head. “You sure you’re eating now? You are all skin and bones, silly…” She had always been very specific on how her body looked. “Look, meet me later at a restaurant around the corner called Mon havre belle. At seven thirty. You can’t miss it the place.” Nodding, he saw Brooke lean up. Kissing her lips back, he didn’t want to let her go, and at first when she did he held her against him. However, she kept pulling and he finally let go, nodding. “Okay. Seven thir-” Staring at where she had been, Frank smiled softly and shook his head. Seven thirty… Glancing at his watch, he groaned. That was so long from now! With a shrug, he turned from the alley and stepped out onto the sidewalk. Checking to make sure he knew where to come later, he took a cab to a nearby jewelry store… **Two and a half hours later** Straightening out his shirt, Frank frowned at his reflection. Picking up some gel, he tried again to smooth all of his stray pieces down. After much manipulation and gel, the hair finally stayed. It wasn’t moving for a long time… Fixing his gray collar shirt, buttoning it up, Frank decided on a black stripped tie. In his black boxers, Frank picked up his black trousers. Yes, they would look nice… Once slipped on, and his black dress shoes on, Frank pocketed his wand and wallet. Slipping on a black jacket, he started to leave the hotel room. Nearly forgetting the little surprise, Frank backtracked and put the little box in his inner coat pocket. Patting it, he glanced in the mirror once more. Nope, not visible, and it wasn’t easily felt. Good… Smiling to himself, he left the hotel and pocketed the key. Now, to head back to that restaurant and wait for her.
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Brooklynn Pratt
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Post by Brooklynn Pratt on Jan 12, 2007 2:31:44 GMT -5
“Make sure you have all your wits? Yes, he’s gone somewhere else, not allowed to be on same base as me if it can be helped.”
Brooke nodded slowly. Well at least he was gone for good. She hoped that perhaps now Frank knew Brooke’s reasons and what happened, he’d be able to forgive her…someday. Or at least put it behind him so she could forget about it. Her memories with Richard weren’t really nice to think about and Frank talking about it just made her feel queasy.
“You sure you’re eating now? You are all skin and bones, silly…”
Having lost some weight after moving, Brooklynn frowned up at Frank. That was what came from a busy lifestyle and barely enough Francs to scrape together for a baguette. “I do eat. When I have time, or can get something.” She sighed and thought for a moment. “I’m not as rich as some at the moment.” She didn’t doubt for a moment that Frank had more money than her. Everything she had went towards either going out, food or supplies for lectures.
[Later]
Ensuring the short black dress sat perfectly, Brooke tightened the corset like top up and tied it at the back. She quickly adjusted her smooth blonde hair that was loose and wavy, giving her a free feel .Slipping on her stilettos and grabbing her bag and shawl, Brooke was heading out and setting off for the restaurant. It was posh there and she wanted to make an effort. The whole meeting with Frank had made her realise how much she didn’t want to loose him so easily again. She’d already once come to terms with loosing him and just when she was getting better, he’d showed up large as life.
Brooke soon arrived at the restaurant, to the delight of her aching feet due to the stupidly painful shoes. Well perhaps they’d put her nearly as tall as Frank. That always made her feel better. Frank however wasn’t there yet and so Brooke waited outside the posh restaurant, standing by a wall. Why had she taken her watch off? Now she didn’t have a clue what time it was. She was pulling the shawl tightly around herself, it was getting a little breezy.
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Post by Natasha on Jan 12, 2007 14:44:19 GMT -5
“I do eat. When I have time, or can get something… I’m not as rich as some at the moment.” Frowning slightly, he hadn’t meant to come across like Brooke had taken his statement. He wasn’t rich, he saved. Rarely did he buy anything for himself, and he lived as frugal as possible. His small apartment he rented in Germany was sparsely furnished… He didn’t see a reason to put more in there than he needed; he hadn’t been trying to impress anyone. He slept there, ate, and sometimes watched a movie. Otherwise, he went out and partied with his friends. “Well, you seem to be doing well for yourself, Brooke…” He felt like the jerk now; obviously money was a sore subject. Frank wished he had known, he wouldn’t have bothered. “You look good, though.” Smiling softly, he thought she looked much the same the last time he saw her, just a little wiser. **Later** A lot of things came up as Frank rode in the cab. Contemplating what he was doing, what he planned to do, and why he was doing it. He couldn’t let her leave his life again, not without trying. She deserved to know exactly how he had felt, how he did feel, and that he wanted to care for her forever. That seemed to sum it up nicely… Before he knew it, the cab was there. Paying the driver, Frank slid out and fixed his dinner jacket. Licking his lips, not sure if he looked okay, he moved over to the entrance. Smiling softly, he saw her. She seemed chilly, pulling her wrap thing around her more. Moving up behind her, Frank pulled his jacket off, setting it gently on her shoulders. “Ready for dinner?” Moving to the door, he held it open for her, letting Brooke glide past him before moving in behind her. The hostess asked for a name and whether they would like smoking or non smoking. Frank glanced to Brooke to decide, as he was still bad at his French. It felt surreal to be with her again.
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Brooklynn Pratt
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Post by Brooklynn Pratt on Jan 12, 2007 16:42:01 GMT -5
Brooke found herself looking up and down the street, pulling the shawl tightly around herself, the temperature surly had dropped for the evening. Where was Frank? Well Brooke was probably a little early. She had a knack for being early for things. She wanted Frank to just hurry up so they could go into the warmth and she could finally talk to him properly. Then Brooke felt a jacket being placed over her cold shoulders and turning her body to see Frank, she smiled warmly.
“Ready for dinner?”
“Of course.” Brooke replied, following Frank towards the door and slipping in before him letting him follow. The hostess gave them an odd look before smiling warmly and Brooke glanced up at Frank when the woman asked about tables and the name. She gave him a look as if to say ‘what are you waiting for’, but then she realised he couldn’t speak French properly so her eyes moved back to the hostess.
“*Le nom? Garcia…pour sept heure et demi. Fumé si possible, s’il vous plait.” She replied quickly, watching the woman nod and scan down her booking list. Yes, Brooke had made sure she booked this place. It was busy and she’d been lucky to get a table at late notice. The woman then ticked something off and grabbed a few menus before uttering a quick ‘**Suivre moi’. Brooke motioned to Frank to follow and she walked quickly, trying to keep up with the woman’s quick pace.
They finally arrived at a cosy little table by a window and small water fountain. Brooke pulled the jacket off, handing it to Frank before she sat in the seat the woman pulled out for her. “Merci.” She uttered, waiting for Frank to sit down. The hostess then asked about drinks and Brooke glanced at Frank before back up. “***Une bouteille du vin rouge et deux verres, s’il vous plait.” She answered, while being handed the menus.
“I hope that’s okay.” She said, finally addressing Frank as the woman stalked off. “It is red wine you like, right?” wow, it had been so long that her memory was seeming to fail her.
[*The name? Garcia…for seven thirty. Smoking if possible, please. **Follow me ***A bottle of red wine and two glasses, please.”]
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