Hey, I was wondering if you could write a fem England x France, they're so seldom written about! (Also maybe a monster theme since it's near Halloween, but anything is fine!)
An Abandoned Home, an Abandoned Heart
“What are you chicken?” Amelia taunts.
“You want to go in there and face the ghosts?” Madeline throws back at her sister.
“I’ll go, just shut up!” Alice snatches the flashlight out of Amelia’s hands and stomps down the path towards the the house at the end of the hill. She turns around and sneers at the twins when they shout for her to come back. For the past ten minutes they have been bickering back and forth and back and forth about who to go down to the house.
Instead of really deciding, they dared and re-dared each other, giving reason why and why not and it just drove Alice mad. To put an end to it all she made the choice to go down the uneven path of rocks, past the broken wooden gate, far away from the rest of the neighborhood, and right up to the creaky door of an abandoned house that all the adults told them to stay away from.
Alice for all her rebellion as a highschooler, never did pass the wooden gate and break the rules. She studied up on the supernatural and knew that the best way to appease spirits, whether or not there are really there, is to just leave them alone. Her older sisters have warned her, and maybe threatened her, about the fairies and their rings and ponds.
“Do you believe in them?” She asked incredulously as she could as a young child. Alyssa moved her cigarette from one side of her mouth to the other.
“No,” She admitted.
“But I’m also not stupid enough to tempt it either,” She said.
Alice decided that’s good advice and held it true to all her supernatural beliefs then on. Too bad she made friends with Amelia, a girl with a penchant for trouble and messing around where she shouldn’t be. Now Alice in her college stubbornness stands on the doorstep due to being annoyed to her wits end. With a sigh at her own recklessness, figuring she’s come this far, she pushes open the door.
The flashlight shines into the empty foyer and makes it seem hollow more than it already is. It’s colder that’s for sure. She wraps her arms around herself. There’s a dusty couch in the corner and tables with dents in them. She disregards them both to take a seat in the center of the floor, just at the base of a set of stairs that lead to an upper level.
She curls up in the chill of the house. As much as she wishes she didn’t walk down the steps, her stubborn pride knows Amelia won’t believe she went near the house without waiting at least ten minutes. Even then she’ll have to find something to take with to prove it after. So much work for something so dumb.
There’s a creak from upstairs and she brushes it off to wind or animals without a second thought. The house is old and having someone inside is messing with the pressure it has set up. She huffs and twirls the flashlight on the ground in a bored manner.
There’s another creak and then a bang. She jerks at that sound, glaring at the upstairs like it offended her. Part of her is tempted to walk up and figure out what is going on. A more persistent part of her tells her to just sit and wait to rub it in the twins’ faces later.
More bangs and more creaks. The shutters and the house being old. She ignores it all. That is until the sound of something shatter happens right behind her. She jumps and whirls the flashlight behind her to see the shards of a vase trembling from having broken. The beam of light is directed at every ounce of the stairs and there’s not a person to be seen.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” With anger fueling her, Alice marches a few steps up the stairs and points the light over the railing to try and find someone.
“Amelia I swear to god if you’re fucking with me, we aren’t friends anymore,” She calls into the emptiness. No answer, not that she expected one anyway. Amelia isn’t the kind to give up on her pranks and Madeline is just as sneaky though no one seems to believe that.
“Same goes for you Madeline. I do not appreciate these kinds of pranks.” She says out loud again, expecting the silence that comes after.
“What pranks do you like?” Alice stumbles in her effort to turn around, dropping the flashlight as she does. The light hits the wall and is off no use at the bottom of the steps. She holds her breath as the thing in front of her begins to glow a soft blue hue, tilting it’s head in a questioning manner.
With the glow she can see it clearly. A ghost of sorts. The clothing they wear is not as old as she would think. Nothing frilly or fancy, but certainly not from the time period she’s used to living in. Their ghostly hair is tied back in a ribbon.
“Holy shit,” She ends up saying. The ghost smiles at her gently and offers a hand to help her up but recoils when she leans away.
“Ah I supposed you wouldn’t be able to touch me anyway,” They say with a sad laugh to follow. Alice nods along slowly, trying to figure out the best way to get out of the house and the ghost she’s talking to. The ghost. Ghost.
“Holy shit,” Alice says again with more panic. She pushes herself up a step and the ghost reaches out.
“No it’s okay!” They say but Alice isn’t sure if she should believe them or not. Her first instinct of course is to run, but a smarter part knows the ghost would be able to be next to her the entire time. She stays still.
“Oh this is the first time I’ve had guests in so long, and one so kind who doesn’t throw rocks at my windows,” The ghost says to her, floating up and then sitting next to her like they are old friends. She leans away but doesn’t take her eyes off them.
“Please tell me your name? Let me give you a tour! OH!” They are back on their half way gone feet in a second, once more reaching a hand down to help her up.
“Uhm,” Is all the coherent thing Alice can think to say. The ghost huffs and pulls their hand back.
“Still not used to that, been dead for at least 100 years and can’t get over the fact I have to walk through the door and not open it.” They laugh to themselves and wave Alice to stand. She does carefully, not trusting her wobbling legs. The ghost claps their hands.
“What is your name?” They asks. Alice swallows a hard knot in her throat.
“Alice,” She croaks out. The ghost sighs happily and bows low.
“Welcome Alice. I am Sir Francis Claud Jacques Rainier Alphonse Bonnefoy, at your service,” The ghost gives her a cheeky smile and Alice manages something that might look like a smile back at them. The wave her excitedly up the stairs. She gulps and follows, deciding that asking about the long gash going down their back is not a good conversation topic.
He shows her every up stairs room in detail, talking on about how he used to have fun in his home, having guests and throwing parties. Alice’s initial forced smiles and fright melt away to a general curiosity and genuine enjoyment of the over the top ghost. He talks on and on, asking her if she’s enjoying the tour. She says yes regardless.
“Ah how times have changed,” Sir Francis sighs longingly a portrait in the corner of the hallway. Alice looks away from the one of Sir Francis in his living years to walk closer to him. Her eyes scan the painting, that lump in her throat clawing it’s way back up. Maybe not an exact replica but that is certainly a face she recognizes.
“How is this life treating you?” Sir Francis asks her then. She tries to find words but there’s a distinct lack of nothing coming out. She takes a step away from the painting and Sir Francis leans into her personal space.
“Have you forgotten about me?” He asks. Alice shakes her head to his words but it’s directed at the portrait, showing a look alike in upper class garb and a haughty look. She does not know this life.
“I don’t know you,” She whispers though she meant to keep that thought inside. Sir Francis blinks at her, a strained smile on his face.
“You have to, why else would you come here?” He asks desperately. She backs away from him again, not liking one bit the danger she feels.
“You always come back, giving me more years to hold onto,” He’s pleading. The house is shifting before her eyes to a farther back time period, with long dresses and corsets, then once more to frilly outfits and powdered faces, then another to even farther back.
“You always come back,” Francis’s voice is harsh. Alice turns from him to go down stairs. He appears in front of her face in the blink of an eye.
“Please don’t leave me,” He begs and Alice isn’t sure what to do. The fear for her life is outweighing anything.
“What do you want?” Her voice shakes. Sir Francis beams.
“Just some of your time, please, tell me,” He begs. Alice wonders if this can spare her. She takes a deep breath, telling about her sisters, her time at college, the ridiculous friends she made, as many stupid stories she can muster up.
It appeases the ghost. Francis smiles and listens silently to it all. The house morphing around them. It’s smaller now, less grand in the stair case and photographs instead of portraits now line the walls. Francis’s own outfit changes to something she would see on her campus. Jeans and a tee shirt but his hair still tied back with a ribbon.
“I feel better now,” He says once she’s done. She swallows hard.
“So we know each other?” He laughs sadly.
“I know you. You never seem to remember me,” He tells her. She narrows her eyes at that. He holds out a hand to her and though she may not be able to really touch him, she places her hand on top of his.
“You are just as bitter as ever.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” She blurts out. Francis smiles and she turns her head away with heat creeping up her cheeks. He walks her down the steps, longing in his eyes as their hands do not stay together.
“Visit me soon?” He begs. She swallows and nods just enough for it to count. He waves his hand and a drawer opens from a side table in the now smaller foyer. It has shifted to be more modern, a mockery of what she described her home as but not less recognizable.
Francis holds out the small bracelet to her, a simple pendent attached. Alice takes is carefully and slips it on her wrist. It’s cold.
“You’re friends are missing you,” Francis tells her, attempting to hold her hand again. Alice lets him mess with her fingers as best he can. Light peeks through the windows and Alice sighs.
“I will.. come back as soon as I am able,” Is her promise. It’s enough. Francis bows and smiles bittersweet and she pulls open the door and enters into the world of the living. The house has changed in outward appearance, but no one gets close enough to tell. She walks back through the broken fence and back up the uneven path.
“Alice!” Madeline shouts for her, jumping up from her huddled position with her sister to hug Alice tight.
“We thought you died!” Amelia yells. Alice rolls her eyes.
“The only one dumb enough to die in an empty house would be you,” Alice chides her. Amelia goes off, saying how Alice probably didn’t even go in the house. Alice, pride be damned, just pulls her sleeve down to cover the bracelet on her wrist and lets Amelia believe what she will.
