@KalamariCakes
Can scampered off to some obscure adventure, and Pierre chuckled. "Well. Would you like a replacement then?" He lifted up the little kettle.
Can scampered off to some obscure adventure, and Pierre chuckled. "Well. Would you like a replacement then?" He lifted up the little kettle.
"No- it's really alright. I just feel bad for loosing such nice China." She sighed. "Do you want me to pay you for it?"
Pierre chuckled, as if it was a silly offer. "Oh, no. Things can always be found." He sipped his tea.
"Not when I'm around. My father tried to kick me out because I lost all his valuables." She sighed.
He raised his eyebrows. "You're kidding!"
"He tried but my poor mother about beat him. She obviously didn't- otherwise she may as well be considered dead herself. But I was close to leaving." She explained brushing her curls from her face.
He looked her up and down with a faint frown. Pierre see his teacup down. "Ms. Clara," he began, "I'm very sorry about that,"
"It isn't anything you can help with. Nor was it your fault. I guess I'm just forgetful." She sighed looking at him.
The man stood up from the navy blue armchair. "Do you need anything else?"
"I think I am quite alright. Thank you so much my good sir." She said standing as well.
He offered his hand, to take hers to kiss, as was a customary gesture between men and women. "It was a delight, Ms. Clara."
"I'd love to get to see you again." She smiled politely when he kissed her hand. "It would be delightful."
"Take care of yourself, Miss." Pierre wished. He laid a hand across her back and led her back to the door. "Feel free to visit again, mind my parents if they're here._
"Of course. I was taught to be respectful, I will come visit you often if I'm welcome." She smiled softly. "Have a lovely rest of your day Sir." She curtsied a bit.
A gentle smile fell across his face. He gave her one last little wave— and close the door once she was gone.
Clara walked the path in silence running thoughts through her head. "He was strange… I like him a lot though…"
Overhead, a bluejay cried very sharp— jarring. A dog barked in the distance.
Clara looked around in wonder. "He was peculiar- and quite nosy…" she told herself.
Do you want to roleplay Pierre's little brother (and step mom, maybe)? I can be his dad)
(I can!)
Awesome!)
Pierre was in his room as usual when the family returned. Lost in the melancholic pits of himself and a journal.
Pierre's little brother walked through the door, and went to look for him. "Pierre? Brother?" He called looking around.
Pierre whipped his head of black hair to his door, to his ten-year-old brother. "What is it, Julian?" He called back, pressing the rounded end of a fountain pen to his chin.
"Well I was coming to say hello, but you seem bothered by me." He frowned pulling away some. "I'm sorry for bothering you."
Pierre lifted his chin, "Oh, no! Come in, Jules," he tossed his pen aside and turned his chair round. "How was your day?"
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