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| December 23, 1903 "No." Incredulous, verdant eyes flashed at the response. "What do you mean 'no'?" Rei Balzac Courland asked, teeth clenching on his cigar stub as he glared across the desk at the blond man standing before him. "I own you, and therefore, you can't say no." Even with his emphasis on the possessive verb, Rei knew Florian would ignore it. Hell, even he knew that his ownership of the French noble meant nothing when the French noble truly wanted something. "Not this time, Noir," the standing man asserted, stubbornness set in his jaw. "I'm not helping you steal that diamond. It's Christmas for goodness sake!" The thief known as Noir put his cigar stub down, ready to battle with his companion's obstinance. Yet deep down, a little voice reminded him that he was once again rallying for a fruitless battle. "First of all, it's not a diamond, but a sapphire ... a sapphire supposedly given to Eleanor of Aquitaine by Henry II when he stole her from the French king. You know I can't pass something like that up. And second, what does Christmas have to do with anything? I already let you decorate my house to high heaven. Isn't that enough?" Breath spent, Rei ended his small tirade, but the unwavering intensity of Florian's violet eyes told him that he'd made no progress. "No, it isn't enough," the blond man replied easily. "Laila, your men, and even Noel are all going to be here tomorrow ..." Florian's voice trailed off, but his expression took on a more somber cast, which only caused Rei to brace for a frontal assault. "Christmas is when you spend time with those you love," the young French lord continued, "And since this is my first holiday without my family, I thought we could all spend it together." Somewhere in the back of his mind, Rei heard the horn sound for a full scale retreat. He hated it when sadness dimmed those beautiful amethyst eyes, and only God knew how that had become his greatest weakness. But he would have to be threatened with a fairly gruesome death before he openly admitted that to anyone. Taking his companion's silence as acquiescence, Florian pressed on. "You're not going then, right?" The thief's pride bristled. "No, I'm going," he said with dead certainty, "with or without you." Florian straightened at the decisive words. "Fine! Go steal your stupid jewel ... Grouch!" And with all the dignity of the Bourbon kings that ran through his blood, the blond man turned and walked out of the study. The sound of the slamming door left in his wake, however, was anything but dignified. The vibration that pulsed through the room caused even the lone occupant's teeth to clatter. Rei slouched in his chair, angry at Florian for not ceding to his request, and angrier at himself for letting the man get away with it. The thief sighed quietly: Victory to Florian ... again. (***) December 24, 1903 The foyer was dim when Rei made his way across it toward the exit. He stopped before the door and shrugged his cloak on a little more securely around his shoulders. The late December nights had gotten chillier of late, but that wasn't going to prevent Noir from getting what he wanted. His pride simply wouldn't allow it. After a couple of quick tugs to his gloves, he felt ready for the night's little sojourn. All that remained was the hat he'd left on the entryway table several minutes earlier. Yet, as he reached for that last article, he paused. Over the last week, Florian had turned his elegant Parisian residence upside down, all in his altruistic endeavor to turn it into some Christmastime wonderland. At first, Rei had opposed it, but when all of his men had begun to catch Florian's seasonal spirit, he had found that his wishes counted for nothing. And so, he'd accustomed himself to the sight of ribbons and wreaths in almost every crevice of his house. Nevertheless, the neatly wrapped gift that now sat on the table was not something that had been there earlier. The tag attached to the gold-filigreed bow had his name on it, neatly scripted cursive letters that could've only been written by one man. Damn Florian. Grabbing his hat, Rei ignored the gift and turned toward the exit. He wouldn't be swayed from his course. Florian didn't have that much control over him. Opening the door, he finally stepped outside, hesitating only briefly when he noticed that it was snowing. The big, fat flakes had already covered the streets and buildings, blanketing the city in coat of white fluff - Florian's idyllic Christmas Eve. Rei cursed. It appeared that even Mother Nature had bent to Florian's will. (***) Florian watched the cloaked figure leave the house from his room window, the stark contrast of the black cloth on white snow somehow causing a sadness to well up inside him. So Noir had left - alone - after all. Even his gift hadn't affected his decision. He gently fingered the folds of material around his throat. He had lost everything he'd ever owned this past year, but that hadn't stopped him from purchasing gifts for the new friends he'd made. He'd even sold his favourite cravat pin to buy Noir's gift, and the man hadn't even paid it any mind. At that thought, a seed of anger began to germinate within him and for a moment, he actually entertained the idea of following the thief. But the decision to stay had been Noir's and Noir's alone - not his. Florian let out a tired breath and pushed away from the window. There were things to do still; Christmas Eve was upon them and he would not let it go by unnoticed. As he made his way to the bedroom door, he could hear quick footsteps running down the hallway. "Florian? Where are you, Florian?" He heard Noel's voice even through the thick walls, the excitement in the young child's voice unmistakable. Paternal warmth washing through his body, he smiled softly and went to find the boy. (***) Boulevard Saint Michel was eerily deserted this evening, which boded well for the night's escapade, but was strangely unsettling for Noir himself. The chill in the air had worked its way into his throat, yet the slight discomfort seemed lost on Rei. Instead, his mind was preoccupied with the vast difference between his surroundings at that very moment and any other day. Normally, especially this close to the Latin Quarter, there would be life teaming about, regardless of hour. But this ... this dead silence was almost oppressive. All that disrupted the white calm was the crunching of fallen snow beneath his boots and the huffing of his breath before it misted in the cold night air. Where had everyone gone? 'Christmas is when you spend time with those you love ...' Florian's voice came from nowhere, and Rei stopped momentarily to block it out. He had grown up penniless and alone in the streets of Morocco. If he could survive that, he could easily ignore pleading violet eyes. '...spend time with those you love ...' Rei ground his teeth together. He had never celebrated Christmas before, and he didn't need to start now. '...those you love ...' A muted growl escaped his throat, and before he knew it, his body had turned itself around. He really did indulge Florian too much. And so, with the snow falling in a silent symphony around him, a lone black figure walked the deserted streets of Paris, back home to a pair of amethysts that were worth more to him than any jewel he would ever steal.
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