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generalluxun · 11 months

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Fanfiction: Reciprocation, Chapter 3

Chapter Summary: Felix is now balancing his new 'discovery' with his plans to take the Peacock from Gabriel. It is a toss up as to which task is more daunting. Link to the AO3 posting in the bio. Full text after the break. As always, your comments/questions are welcome.

Felix had to settle for being handled into new clothing, fawned over, and reprimanded before he could leave. Chloé was present for none of it. Now Felix had two things to consider, perhaps more, and each less appealing than the last.

What, or how, to deal with his uncle was still paramount. Merely gaining entry to his lair would be meaningless. He needed time to work, to implement his bargaining chip. Even if he were to assume his uncle would add no security in the wake of the missing fake miraculous, the time required was risky. On top of that there was the actual threat and bargain. He couldn't let it wait once the plan had begun. The chances his sabotage might be discovered were too great.

Felix let the permutations churn in his mind. They were important but static, familiar. It was the other concern that required his focused attention. The itch was gone, the insanity passed, he sat on a bullet train back to London. The world was comfortable now, but it had happened .

Felix needed to understand why. Until he did, it was a danger; an unexplained weakness. He pulled out his pocket notebook and began a new page.

Is it companionship?

Felix had long ago come to understand he did not relate to others in the traditional sense. Closeness, affection, the allure of the other, or even his own, sex, the little fancies that took others, none of it had ever appealed to him. That pigtailed girl's confession to her cousin? It made his stomach churn.

There were names for people like him. Felix had plucked the ones that fit from a cloud of options and swathed himself in them. It made the world make sense.

Now he tried the same exercise he always had. He imagined the simplest of things. Adrien and that host of friends, talking, laughing, touching. His skin crawled. He imagined that pigtailed girl confessing not to his cousin, but to him. The soft kindness and longing in her voice… unsettled him. He imagined movies, snuggling, all the trappings of that world.

No, these things still held no appeal for him. Felix let out a sigh that was relief, not disappointment.

Is it attraction?

This was less easy to divine. Felix had immersed himself in the study of art as well as science. He could appreciate aesthetic beauty. How then to separate the two? He assumed he would know if it happened. Felix brought into focus the Bourgeois girl, not just her face but all of her. He tried to be civil about the exercise, childish derision wouldn’t ferret out this problem. She had high cheekbones and expressive eyes. She would be an art-class’s dream model. She was fit and proportioned well, he supposed. He had no great preference for type, or even a liking for any. He let the image of her slowly recede as if vanishing into the distance. No, on the whole he could safely say there was nothing particularly-

Felix winced as a pang shot through his heart. What-? The vision in his mind’s eye had almost gone, he pulled it back and the pain eased. What is this? He mentally rotated the image in consternation. As it faced him, it came to life, lips drawing into a smirk. ‘Of course you are.’

Felix’s mouth dropped open at this self-inflicted betrayal.

‘Why are you just standing there?’ She asked. The tone wasn’t right. It wasn’t the one she had used, but it was the one his mind was giving her.

Felix scrubbed his face with his hands, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes to wash away the image. Suddenly self conscious he looked to see if anyone on the train had noticed his lapse. No one even knew he existed. His pencil scratched across the paper.

Is it

He couldn’t even bring himself to write the word. It was with actual fear that Felix conjured up the image again. This was an impossibility. Bracing himself he tried altering the image. He tried to imagine her without-

No! No. Felix shook the image away even before it was complete.

It is not that. Then what?

Felix’s pencil slid back and forth over a centimeter section of the paper, slowly creating a block of graphite gray against the white. It was wasteful, a sign of weakness, and he was too deep inside his own head to pay heed to either. In the end, he cheated.

It may have been a one time thing. I do not need to waste my energy on it unless it becomes a concern again.

Satisfied, Felix ripped the paper free. He folded it up, but couldn’t set fire here. He slipped it into the pocket of his loaned button down shirt. Now what to do about my uncle?

A new page, a fresh mind, Felix let plans drift in and out of his thoughts. In each there were pros and cons. How much did each aspect matter? Did he dare tell his mother about Emilie? It seemed too risky. She had loved her sister even at the expense of herself, and Felix would not have her doing it again.

A light buzz from his pocket signaled an alarm- but this wasn't the right time for it? Felix pulled out his phone and frowned at an incoming text message. There wasn't even a name for the contact, but Felix's memory supplied the name attached to the number.

Chloé : Did you manage to make it to the train without getting lost or hurting yourself again?

It was the only message in the conversation. Still more than half immersed in his other thoughts, Felix gave an answer.

Felix : Yes.

He put his phone away, expecting that to be the end of things. Buzz.

Chloé : You made quite a mess. The maid staff were running around everywhere. Mommy was screaming. I think she fired someone.

Felix reread the message. There wasn't a question to answer this time. He squinted at it, more of his mind slipping over to try and formulate some expected response. After ten solid minutes he just let it be and dropped his phone on the seat beside him. He had moved on to compiling a list of what was needed for breaking back into his uncle's lair. There were the narrows to consider too. Everything must be compa- Buzz.

Chloé : How did you manage to do all that to yourself? Did you fall in an animal cage at the zoo? You really should be more careful. Next time you are in Paris I can lend you Jean to keep you safe.

Felix could hear her texts. They were intense, too much right now. He stabbed out a reply.

Felix : Woman, I am trying to work!

Felix waited… waited… then sighed in relief. He took a moment to input her name properly into contacts then put his pho- Buzz.

Chloe : Fine! Whatever. I've got plenty of more important things to do anyway than waste time on some English hobo anyway!

Felix could hear that one too, and see the accompanying stomp-off in his mind's eye. It brought a smile to his lips. At least, until a tiny new thought trail asked, she's not really mad, is she? Felix quashed that voice, switched his phone to silent, and returned to work.

The remainder of his trip passed in relative silence. He had half a dozen possible solutions for how he might use his access to Gabriel's lair to achieve his goal, but all still seemed too risky at the moment. Felix thumbed the ring on his finger, insurance in case he needed Adrien to listen to him in a hurry. He hoped he would never have to use it.

When he got up to de-train, Felix checked his phone again. There were no new messages. He frowned at a tickle behind his ribs… disappointment?

---------------

Back in London, Felix found himself appreciating the mundane. Familiarity made trivial matters comforting. The broken crossing signal at the corner of his street had annoyed him for a year. Now he stood waiting to cross, staring at the inert box where lights should be, and it reminded him he was home .

"Honey, you're home! How was your trip?" His mother's gleeful greeting still grated, but less so. There was a rare authenticity to his smile as he explained a sanitized version of his outing.

His mother was willfully gentle, but observant nonetheless. When Felix turned to continue on to his room she asked in the most uninterested tone possible, "Should I ask why you are moving so carefully on your feet, sweetings?"

Felix stopped. He didn't turn around. He answered honestly, "It would be better if you didn't."

"Alright dearest, I trust you."

She did. He knew it. He strove to be worthy of it in his every action. His mother's happiness was the only reason Felix hadn't turned Gabriel in already.

"Thank you, mother."

"Do you have a kiss for me?"

Felix turned now. The kiss to his palm was automatic, he blew and his mother caught. They switched roles and he gave her one more smile before heading to his room at last, one more ritual complete.

-------------

Days passed in a blink. Felix's life was full, even without his plans. From his list of plans similarities emerged. He was able to order supplies and begin preparations that would be beneficial no matter which path he took.

The itch did not return, something else took its place. A hollow just behind his ribs, where he had thought disappointment lay. Felix felt it as he worked through his private boxing routine. He took lessons weekly in a class, but only alone could he push himself like he desired.

Sweat streaked the heavy bag. It lay in fans droplets upon the bare cement floor of his training room, and it coated every exposed inch of his skin. As he circled and struck, bobbed and blocked, Felix relished the utter exhaustion of going beyond what most would consider safe or healthy. It was only when he pushed through all limits that Felix felt at home in his own skin most days.

Now as he stood on legs barely able to support him again, that serenity was disturbed. The sway of the heavy bag as he hammered it transformed into the haughty shift of a debutante's hips. Every light-blur as salt seeped into his eyes resolved itself as a golden head of hair. Felix knew better now than to ignore it. So when the timer rang and he slid down against the training room wall he opened himself to the murky storm of thoughts. Something understood could be conquered.

She wasn't really mad, was she?

That refrain repeated itself on loop. What did it matter? Felix did not know, but he was willing to accept that it did. Wiping, then re-wiping his hands, Felix picked up his phone. Typing out a text took entirely too long. Felix hit send without checking. He would never have sent it if he took time to think, and now it could not be undone.

Felix: Look, I’m sorry. It wasn’t my intention to make you angry at me. I should be appreciative of what you did for me, and for not laughing when I am sure it must have been difficult not to. I am in the middle of a very important project right now. It has consumed me for quite some time, the impact it has upon my psyche is compounding over time. That is in fact no excuse for my behavior, I know. Weakness is weakness, and I am ashamed of my own. I do not tell you this hoping to mitigate anything I may have done in the past, I do it so that you might understand things I do in the future. I will remain testy, sharp, and perhaps even seem irrational at times until I see this through. Know that I am aware of this, and actively combating it. I am stronger than these demons and I will see them banished in time.

My appearance at your hotel must have been a shock. It is as much a shock to myself, I assure you. I found myself disconcerted by our last encounter. I know not what my reasoning was exactly yet. I could not abide the idea that my cousin’s impact would overshadow and erase my own. You are an expert in all things superficial, so you must know by now that while we share appearances, we are far from a single being. I do not wish this to change, even in your eyes. If that means I must tolerate more direct interactions, so be it. Perhaps in the fullness of time we may even find something about each other that bears merit, and be able to stand longer periods in each other’s presence.

I must now continue with my studies. I will not have much time, but I will try not to be too abrupt should you choose to contact me in the future. You may assume I will receive your missives in a timely fashion, and can chalk it up to my schedule if I do not reply for a duration. I will be mindful that even a short missive may suffice, if you will also give consideration that that is all I may be able to give. I hope this arrangement will be satisfactory to you, as I think it is well thought out and will benefit us both going forward. Misunderstands are problematic and can only compound an already stressful time. Good Evening to you. -Felix.

Felix scrolled back up through the message and down again. How long would it take her to reply? Did he even want her to? She undoubtedly would find some way to make things more difficult. And why do I find that thought comforting? Felix pushed himself to his feet. His break was long past over. He had to stretch, shower, work on his German, and meditate before bed.

------------

The reply came in the early morning hours before dawn. It consisted of one word:

Chloe : Lighting.

And an attachment. Felix opened it. A selfie? Felix rolled his eyes by the dim glow of his reading light. It was so completely Chloé, frivolous and self absorbed. He dropped his phone back on the desk. The hollow behind his ribs prodded him almost immediately. What now, damn you? Felix picked the phone back up to satisfy this accursed new phenomenon. What do you want? It’s just some self-centered foppish influencer garba- No. The angle was too wide. It had to be taken by another hand, or perhaps a timer?

The idea that thought and planning might have gone into something from Chloé was alien enough to make Felix take a second look. He viewed it not as a thing from the girl he knew, but instead as an image presented by an unknown. Taken at dawn, so this likely just happened. She was on her balcony, a familiar haunt. In her pajamas? Pale yellow silk, because everything is yellow with this girl. No curated outfit? No, everything is curated. She was seated at a morning tea, smiling at the camera. No pouty lips, no wide tooth-laden grin. This is definitely no simple selfie, what is she playing at?

Felix’s mind picked apart details from the color of the china cup she held to the way her legs were crossed at the knee and the fact she was barefoot. Each might have meaning, but which ones did? He pushed himself up out of his covers and sat up with his back against the headboard. It took him far longer to puzzle out a meaning than he wanted to admit. Even when it came to him he rejected it and spent a further five minutes looking for some clue to point in another direction. In the end though, none emerged.

He hoped he could be forgiven for coming at the answer slowly. Who would expect Chloé Bourgeois to put herself in a picture and not frame herself as the message? The answer lay to the right of the image, almost out of frame. The table she sat at was small, with chairs for only two. Chloe sat in one, the other was empty, but pulled part of the way out and turned slightly towards the camera. Almost anywhere it might be an accident, but Chloé was painfully strict about neatness from her staff . A second cup on her tea service reinforced the idea only via connection. A second cup by itself might simply be a spare.

Felix added it all up. An invitation. One made in an extremely roundabout way. One that could easily be disavowed by either party. One that whispered instead of screamed. One that wouldn’t even appear to someone who didn’t take the time to think.

Felix felt a tightness in his cheeks. He found himself smiling. “Who coached you?” He asked the morning air. “I suppose it doesn’t matter.”

A suitable reply was in order. Felix would return the favor, and possibly send her into fits. Too bad I won’t be there to see. He scrolled through dozens of options, rejecting many out of hand as too easy, or too obtuse. It had to be just the right blend of truth and confusion. He found it, and tapped a single keystroke for his reply.

Felix : 💛

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