Blood

Relationships (19)

I would like to apologize for the late update but remind you that I was having some terrible writer's block! Took a couple of hours to write so please show your support and vote and comment!

Thanks! Enjoy!

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Days passed and soon days became weeks and weeks months.

Training was usually a daily thing and often, Justine and I would work with Paul and Gaspard for days on end, taking no days off for weeks and other times, we would do nothing for ages. There seemed to be no particular routine, our subjects of training changing nearly every day as they tried to fill our minds with all this knowledge.

I tried my best and my shooting and skill with weapons was growing visibly whereas Justine improved greatly in radios and coms, something I was useless at.

My mind was preoccupied though. Monique was worrying me a lot and rarely spoke to me, either snapping at me furiously or saying something tonelessly and emotionlessly once in a while. She was forever dwelling in her own world with a mental wall slammed in between our two minds so that I didn’t know what she was thinking. Many times, I tried to start conversation with her or comfort her but she either ignored me or began hurling abuse at me.

It was becoming rather depressing and though part of me said it would be good if she just disappeared and I could have the body to myself, another reminded me of how I needed her and how she had helped me. Now I had to help her, no question or doubt about it.

Before I knew it, it was Christmas Eve. It was just about the oddest thing to me as even amongst all this chaos and war, everyone insisted on the festive celebrations.

I was happy to go along with it, the idea of roast dinners and mince pies warming my growling stomach and I was happy to help Rose and Justine with the food preparations.

It turned out to my great disappointment that the French did not know of ‘mince pies’ and instead, on Christmas day, ate a large meal called ‘Le Reveillon’, consisting of different meats, fish, cheese, bread, fruit and wine. After that, they ate a yule log, called a “Buche de Noel”, which, in ways, made up for the lack of mince pies.

Rose had me preparing the sponge for the yule and Justine helped her with the main meal.

Christmas day was a lovely one. Everyone seemed so high in spirits that it seemed to be rubbing off on Monique who for once in a long while was present in my mind enjoying the celebrations. No gifts were passed around but I hadn’t been expecting any anyway and the meal kept us busy for a while. At the end of the day, we were all stuffed like pigs and just after midnight, we all lumbered up to our sleeping quarters.

It was Boxing Day that brought a new idea to mind.

I walked down to the kitchen, which was mostly empty as people were still recovering from the hangover that lingered in the house, and the only people in it were Rose, Justine, Pascal, Gilbert and Nathan.

I sat down beside Justine and accepted a few jam tartines from Rose, chewing them quietly as I enjoyed the unusual peace.

“Good sleep?” Nathan asked, looking a little tired himself.

“Mmhmm,” I hummed, finishing my mouthful, “Any training today Pascal?”

“Nope,” he replied, rubbing his head and letting out a long sigh of exhaustion.

“How long did you stay up last night?” I asked, amused.

“I’m not sure, I remember going to bed and getting up five minutes later if that answers your question,” he groaned.