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"Do I make you nervous, my sir?" she asked, leaning just a little closer while smirking.
"Do I make you nervous, my sir?" she asked, leaning just a little closer while smirking.
"Ex-extremely," the Lieutenant stammered.
On her desk, one of the leatherbound books laid wide open. Obsessive rows of scratchy L's, over and over until it looked recognizeable.
Right.
She couldn't read or write, except for her name.
Pierre couldn’t resist a peek. His eyes travelled over the lines and lines of scrawled letters, his mind forming a conclusion.
She tried writing a word with her previously learned letters.
Love.
For the second time, Pierre’s heart broke a little for Edonine. Love. Had the person from Delta’s ramblings been her lover?
What were the other notebokks full of, if she couldnt write?
Finally, he caved in, carefully sliding a notebook from the shelf.
Dust billowed from the pages. The leather reeked of age and musk, the pinkish sawdust paper yellowed. Across the front was lightly carved the name Dammon.
Pierre hesitated, fingers stalling over the notebook. What was he doing?? This was a complete invasion of privacy, he couldn't do this..
Just one quick look.. he told himself, flipping to the first page.
Across the front page was a family tree. All the way down til it reached Dammon, who was married to a Ms. Dianne, and their daughter, Edonine.
Oh. Pierre's lips parted in surprise, his eyes following the path of each offshoot in the tree. Suddenly, a nauseating guilt overtook him, and he moved to set the notebook down.
Pierre could hear approaching wingbeats, and Delta flew into the room, landing on a shelf. His crest lifted with interest. "Hello~!"
"Hi, Delta," he responded, though his voice was weighed down as he slid the notebook back onto the shelf.
The bird cooed in his raspy voice, crawling down the shelves to look at the book he put back.
Pierre gently shooed him away. "No, Delta, those are Edonine's," he told the bird, feeling like a massive hypocrite.
The bird turned and hissed at him.
Pierre flinched back, raising his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay!"
(idea: if Edonine+Pierre ever becomes a ship, Pierre could do one of those monologue's in front of Delta and then say 'why am I talking to a bird' and leave, not expecting Delta to repeat his love confessions to Edonine)
The bird kept his crest raised, feathers fluffed, and pulled the book off the shelf and let it fall. "Don't touch it," he muttered. "Don't touch the book Delta. Don't touch it." he mimicked the deeper voice of a man.
Again? Pierre's brow creased with worry lines as he tried to figure out who Delta was impersonating. Edonine's father?
The bird bobbed his head, and spoke in the most ominous, gruff voice of that man. "Get down! Go down, Goddamnit!"
He stood there, rooted to the spot from shock and horror. Was that really her father?
The bird lowered its crest, feathers still standing on end with distress.
Tentatively, Pierre reached out a hand to stroke him softly, trying to calm him down.
The bird opened its beak to pant, Pierre's pets seemed to help.
"Delta?" Edonine called for him.
"He's in here," Pierre called out, his voice laced with worry as he gently stroked the bird.
She walked down the hall and entered the room. Her face was red. "I'm so sorry. Um," she picked up the book from the floor, hands shaking, pushed it back in with the others and took her bird to hold like a loaf of bread, fingers clasped around his wings. She set him on the floor.
Pierre swallowed, looking away for a moment. “Delta… Delta was muttering again,” he said softly, hoping she’d know what he meant.
"I don't let him in here," she murmured, closing the book with her attempts at learning the alphabet, tucked it away with an air of shame.
Pierre only nodded in response, watching her put away the notebooks while guilt weighed him down.
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