Butterfly Kisses

Summary: Since the lace factory incident and signs of trauma in her adventures afterwards, Madeline isn't sure about trusting anyone other than herself. Until one night she finds out that trust can come from the ones you love.

Disclaimer: I don't own Madeline.

Trust. I once knew its meaning of it before the lace factory incident as Miss Clavel calls it. Now that word is alone now, buried into the ground where family had once been in its place.

I am not afraid of family. I love family very much. It's just that it's trust that I am afraid of. Trust of people as Miss Clavel would say to be more specific which I am not sure what it means.

The word trust has made me put on a fake smile in my new adventures since the incident. Miss Clavel would tell the adults around me that I am traumatized (still another word I don't know the meaning of to) and sometimes show it around the old house.

Like no lace. No scissors. Flinching. Anything like that sets me off into different moods.

I especially don't like being yelled at. One time an adult yelled at me so badly that I started crying and while my friends were comforting me and saying that the adult didn't know how I was, Miss Clavel stopped being kind to that adult and started yelling herself.

I never thought Miss Clavel could get mad at anyone but that adult proved me wrong. Qui she does scold me sometimes and tells me not to walk on top of the bridge but I have gotten better.

I listen a lot and excuse myself like tonight. I only ate some bits of bread before walking outside to the stars.

I look back at the old house, seeing some of the girls worry as Miss Clavel gently waves them away. The girls I like as my friends and family as I do with Miss Clavel.

The word trust digs into my mind again. Like how Pepito and I sometimes play pirates and dig for buried treasure with Miss Clavel's permission as long as we dug everything back up and don't do it in her garden. Except it makes me wonder if I could trust them when I am older and be a famous painter or a movie star like my American friend Sugar Dimples or a writer of books.

I am scared. I am not sure if I could trust them. Maybe I should only trust myself.

"Madeline, what are you doing out here by yourself?" Miss Clavel asked, sitting beside me.

"Looking at the stars," I answer softly, looking down at my feet.

"Chérie, qu'est-ce que c'est? Tu peux me le dire," Miss Clavel assured me with a smile which I guessed the question to be sweetheart, what is it? You can tell me.

My French isn't very good. Only one words and sometimes two to three words. I guess when you are like Miss Clavel, you get to speak a lot of French but still speak English.

"Trust," I mutter, feeling her hands take me and set me down in her lap.

I guess I like being small sometimes though Vyette and her words of not being able to model still hurt even after she said sorry for being a show off. You get to tiptoe and sit in the laps of people you love.

Miss Clavel played with my hair (I think it is really stroked though is that a word we say here in Paris) before looking down at me.

"Madeline, you trust me don't you?" Miss Clavel wondered, leaving me to nod. "Then what's gotten you to feel this way?"

"La Croc," I answer, looking ready to cry. I honestly do not cry much but when I do, I am usually upset about something. "Her and Herri have me unable to trust anyone."

"Oh mon petit. You can trust your loved ones. You trust me and the girls," Miss Clavel assured me, putting something soft near my cheek. "Understand?"

"Qui. But what were you doing? It was as soft as a pillow!" I giggled which I have not done in a while on my own.

Giggling with my friends qui but not on my own. That has been a little bit hard to do when I could only feel fear.

"A butterfly kiss mon petit. It shows affection for the ones a person loves," Miss Clavel explained with a smile, leaving me a little confused.

The butterfly kiss was new. I was so used to kisses on the cheek. But maybe a butterfly kiss was like that except it makes you giggle.

"But why me?" I wonder, not seeing anyone else that I know get a butterfly kiss.

Miss Clavel sighed, leaving me to think that what she was done was terrible. But with her smiling, it didn't seem that way.

"Because Madeline you're like a daughter to me," Miss Clavel answered, messing up my hair.

"And you a mom," I confess softly, feeling embarrassed as no one knew that I felt that way about Miss Clavel. Not even the girls or Pepito.

Since the scar on my tummy to her finding me and not giving up when I was taken far from home, I had always thought of Miss Clavel as a mom. Someone that cared and stayed up late at night if I was sick, made sure that I was happy, and to be honest feel loved.

And seeing that she thought of me as a daughter made me smile before I yawned.

Who knew the night sky could make a girl tired? I did not know that it could. I think it has to be something else. Qui. Something else that has made me tired.

I do not know what could have made me tired but as Miss Clavel carried me in her arms like Chloe and Nicole told me after I made sure not to tire myself with ice skating lessons again, I felt like I could trust everyone again even though I am still traumatized which I should probably ask Miss Clavel about and hope that it is a real word.

"Bonne nuit mon petit," Miss Clavel muttered, giving me another butterfly kiss. "Thank the lord you are well."

"Good night, good night dear Miss Clavel," I mutter sleepily before closing my eyes, unable to say much more.