Mal with a naked face, lying on his side looking at her made Jeanne feel fragile. That was why he called her Fleur, a play on Baudelaire’s Les Fleurs du Mal.
She was his fleur–his flower.
“Your corpse flower maybe!” she would chide, but this time, she wanted to be fragile to him.
To be his flower.
She left Mal, a long kiss by his door, and ran her tongue over his lips like her tongue was lipstick for their finale.
On the street below, she still felt fragile but now she was alone. She was headed to brunch with her friend Karys. Karys was her closest friend, they talked all the time and had brunch often.
Karys always looked like the night before had been a long one. As a behavioral therapist, Karys had a very rough job at times. She had helped a lot of teenagers, but she had lost some. And on top of it, the reasons why Karys wanted to help others had a lot to do with her own upbringing. She was razor sharp about other people though, and read Jeanne at least like a book.
Karys was at the bar when she got there with a bloody mary. Her greeting kiss which caught Jeanne a little on the lips was spicy, and vodka laced.
“Morning babe,” Karys said, getting up as the hostess intuitively led them to their table.
Jeanne smiled when the same hostess looked between the two of them knowingly. People often thought that there was something between them. There was something, but it was extremely complicated. Jeanne just knew that they were going to be friends for life.
“So Mal is good, because his little Fleur is blooming!” Karys stuck out her tongue at her.
Jeanne stuck out her tongue, and licked her lips.
“Yeah, he is beautiful, it was hard to leave him.”
“You could have invited him.”
Jeanne shook her head. Her relationship with Mal was—complicated—what relationship in her life was not complicated? But Karys and Mal together might be a little too much for her at the moment. She ordered a peach bellini, and surveyed her friend.
“So how was your last night?”
Karys grinned at her knowingly.
“I don’t remember it all chronologically, but it was manageable and I had at least one orgasm so that is a win.”
“I had multiple…” Jeanne grinned, and Karys gave her a high five.
“We have everything you know? Good jobs with just enough edge, and good sex. What more can one want in their life? And no families to tie us down.”
Jeanne smiled down wanly at her peach bellini, as it was placed in front of her. What Karys said was right, but why did she always feel like there was more she wanted? Like her interests should be even more varied? What was she interested in doing next, or interested in starting to do?
Jeanne is my new character, for this new series. She is connected to Eliza and Sabrina, but her story is a standalone—take a look at their stories while you wait for more Jeanne!
Jeanne’s story will always use the latest prompt from Wicked Wednesday…
les fleurs du mal via wikipedia
