Hunted

Frankie saw the strange look on Armand's face, and the weak smile he gave her. She suddenly felt bad. He surely couldn't be used to so much emotion. She wasn't even used to it and it was her own emotion. She got up and padded quietly over to the kitchen, and watched him silently. Something was eating at him. He hadn't eaten his food, and he looked utterly depressed.

Perhaps it was the same thing that came through in his kisses. She shook her head at the thought. No, she was just immagining those things. He was just a really good actor. "You're a really good cook." she said softly, not moving from her position at the door. "I'm going to try and sleep now." she added, before turning from him and walking back to her bed.

She curled up in the bed, but didn't shut her eyes, staring at her window mindlessly. Her hand moved to curl under her cheek as she was reminded of how sweetly Armand had kissed her. It wasn't needy, but it was passionate and soft. Even though he was just her bodyguard, he'd made her feel more safe and loved than ever.

Sleep finally over took her, and she slept for a good 4 hours before waking up silently from a horror filled dream. She moved silently from her blankets to pick up her sketch book, finished the drawing of Armand in a few quick sketches, before turning to a new page.

This time she sketched the image that was burned onto her mind after the dream now. The heavy eyebrows and the condecending sneer of Pampers. She finished the sketch in under 15 minutes, every detail perfect down to the last hair.

She moved over to where Armand was, and put the sketchbook down. Underneath it was scribbled the name UNCLE PAMPERS. Then she moved over to the kitchen.

Even though it was 4:00 in the morning, Frankie started cooking. Baking, rather. Making cookies. After half an hour of baking, Frankie started to sing. It was an Italian song, so all of the words were indistinguisable, but her clear voice filled the appartment, even though she was singing quietly.

She hadn't bothered to dress more modestly than her pjs, and was thus cooking and singing in a pair of female boxer shorts, and the flimsy white undertanktop that she always wore. Perhaps, deep down inside, though she wouldn't freely admit it to herself, she wanted to make Armand notice her.

Frankie nodded wordlessly when he asked her about her sleep, but was curious when he said something about her and then nevermind. She brought a plate of chocolate chip cookies and set them in the center of the table, putting a glass of milk in front of her, and one in front of Armand.

She sat down across from him and sighed heavily, rubbing her forehead with one hand. "Do you ever have dreams about the horrible things you've witnessed in the trenches?" she asked tiredly, trying to force the gruesome images of her dreams from her mind.

She coughed a few times, and mumbled a few curses under her breath. Her head hurt, her throat was sore, and she needed to cough. This was the last thing she needed right now. A cold.

Frankie nodded, looking a little bit dead inside as she took a cookie and nibbled on it slowly. "The first hit I ever witnessed was at 5." she said quietly, looking anywhere but Armand. "It was meant for my dad, but it killed my Uncle Benny instead." she shivered, hugging herself. "It wasn't just any bullet either. It was a 360 calibre with a nitrogen base. It was made to explode on contact with the human body." she closed her eyes and shuddered, "and Explode it did."

She put her cookie down on the table and stared into her milk. "The man that I saw today... He's viciously loyal to my father." she started, unaware that she had never recovered her Brooklyn accent after dropping it, and was talking instead in a soft Italian accent, "His name is Uncle Pampers." she chuckled sardonically, swirling her milk absently. "When I first heard his name, I giggled. But he's called that because his tactics are so bad that his planned victims 'need Pampers' when they find out."

She spoke in a dull monotone, her face void of all emotion. She started coughing again, and muttered a few more curses before getting up to get a glass of water. "The first time I saw him at work was when he extracted money from a guy who owed. I was 7, and watched from the upstairs window." she took a sip of her water, "It was so gruesome I couldn't look away." she shivered involuntarily, but didn't continue, moving to sit down again.

"Elle... What's it like to be in love?"

Frankie's mind did a 360 degree turn about, and she looked rather blank for a moment. She starte coughing again, but tried to hold it in. One eyebrow raised slightly. She stood for a moment. "Um... I have to think about that for a minute..." she said in a kind of dazed way, moving towards the door. "Just let me get into something warmer."

She coughed a few more times while changing into a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. All the while, she was thinking about his question, and his absent use of the nickname Elle.

She moved back over to the table and sat down, taking another sip of her water. Then, almost as though she was on a spring, she stood up to fill her kettle with water. While she waited for it to boil, she sort of mused out loud. "I guess it's kinda like all you want to do is be around that person." she started, moving to sit down again, "And you want them to care for you." she rubbed her forehead gingerly, "And you go out of your way to make life good for them..." she sighed slightly. "You know Armand, I'm probably not the best person to ask. Nobody's ever let me get close enough to find out."

She stood then, and poured a mug full of tea. "Do you want some tea?" she asked, and subconciously, she breathed in the smell of Armand's cologne.

Her cheeks twinged slightly pink. "By the way.. That cologne smells really good on you." she added softly, turning to open her cupboard to see what teas she could have.