This is the first story I've published. I've written others before, but this is the first one I've ever let anyone read. So I hope you enjoy! Rated M for future chapters. Also, everything in italics is meant to be a different language (usually French), and everything written normally in quotations are in English.
"What would you like this morning, Monsieur?" my morning starts out as it has the past few weeks; at the bistro with the same man who comes in every morning at 8:50 AM sharp. I stare at the SS uniform that he wears every morning, trying to avoid looking him in the eyes. "Why don't you ever call me by my name? I always address you by yours, Eloise, I hoped you'd return the favor." He offers me a crooked smile.
I know he is only trying to make me feel comfortable around him. I'm generally an awkward person when it comes to most social situations. The uncomfortable feeling I have around August, however, has nothing to do with my personality. August is a handsome man with his light brown hair, blue eyes, and chiseled jaw. It's everything that he stands for that is ugly. That saying I've always heard, "What's a good plate with nothing on it?" comes to mind. But August isn't a good plate with nothing on it, he's a good plate covered in filth. I've seen him interact with the other waitresses; he is curt and acts as if he is above them in every social aspect of the word. Another popular saying comes to mind, the one about being able to judge a man best by how he treats his inferiors. As of lately, he's been sitting the area of the bistro that I serve so he can repeatedly attempt, and fail, to woo me.
"Sorry. August, what would you like to have today?" I say, adding emphasis to his name, trying my best to hide whatever hints of annoyance might be slipping through my voice. "Actually, mademoiselle, I was just hoping you would join me at my table today." He smiles that crooked smile again. I requite it by forcing my own lips to turn up at the corners. "Wonderful as that may sound, August, I have far too much work I have to do. I'm sorry, perhaps another time."
He frowns at me, "What sort of work? I'm sure it's something the other girls can manage to complete without you." There is a hint of disbelief in his eyes. "Any other time, you would be correct. Anja and Marie are perfectly capable of keeping this place together with or without me. Today, however, I was hoping to go home early to catch a movie playing at a local cinema. So I made a deal with Anja; I would do some of her tasks so I could get off of work earlier to make it in time for the movie. So I really must –" August cut me off, "You were hoping to go to the cinema tonight?" I nod my head glaring at him dead in the eye in an attempt to make him realize how rude he was to interrupt me. No such luck, "That sounds wonderful! I could always spend time with you then instead! I'll pick you up here around 6?"
My mouth hangs slightly open in surprise. Did he just invite himself? I muster up the most monotone voice I can, again in an attempt to hide my annoyance, "I'm sorry August, but I was hoping to go alone." He rises out of his seat, still smiling, "Nonsense, Eloise. Going to the cinema alone is silly, why not have company? I assure you," he pauses to lean a little closer, that devilish half smile returning, "I am very good company to have." He purses his lips a bit while still smiling as he turns to walk out, "See you tonight, Eloise!" And just as the door closes behind him, I mutter out, "Shit." The word came out as if someone had squeezed it out of me. As I head to the back of the bistro to get supplies ready for the day, I decide I won't avoid tonight. I'll just go but be on my worst behavior, that way he won't want anything to do with me anymore. It would be the easiest way to get him off of my tail.
I get on my red lipstick as the last touch. Just because I'm going to be as rude as possible tonight, doesn't mean I can't look attractive while doing it. I have on a simple black flowing dress with a ribbon around the waist, semi-transparent black stockings, two-inch heels, and a dark gray peacoat. I pull half of my long, thick brown hair back and pin it up. I feel attractive, and it feels good. It isn't too often that I get the opportunity to dress up like this, so I'm trying to take full advantage.
I arrive at the bistro, and August is already there, waiting for me. "So glad you're allowing me to join you tonight, Mademoiselle." There's that half smile again. "Technically, you did not ask me. So I did not actually permit you to join me." All of the vexation stuck inside me from the past two weeks of waiting on him at the bistro finally seeps out. His smile doesn't falter, "I appreciate a woman with a mild sense of humor!" I very visibly roll my eyes and he gives me another chuckle. This is going to be a long night.
"So, Eloise," he bumps his shoulder into mine as we walk to the car, "Tell me about yourself, have you lived in France all your life?" He helps me into the backseat of the car. "Yes." A very curt answer, this is going to be easier than I thought. "Are you going to school or is working at the bistro your main occupation?" I can't wait for this car ride to be over, especially if he is going to continue asking me about myself. "I went to a nursing school, starting when I turned 17 because of how young I started school. I finished the program last spring. I would be working as a nurse but I've found I don't have the stomach to deal with some patients." He responds with another question, "Have you ever been outside of France? Do you know any other languages besides French?" He's really trying to get me to talk and I'm hoping he eventually gets the hint. "I went to England to visit my uncle once, but that's the only time I've been outside the country. And yes, I do speak more than just French." I'm not even looking at him at this point, just staring out the window. "Well, what other languages?"
Thankfully, he sounds a bit annoyed at this point. "Well, obviously I speak French. I also speak English very well from the classes I've been taking since I was little. I know Farsi as well." His eyebrows raise a little, "Farsi, where on earth did you learn that?" he lets out a little chuckle of surprise. "My mother is Persian, she would talk to me in Farsi and my father would speak to me in French. They figured that way I could know at least two different languages before I turned 10." I let out a small sigh; thinking about my parents always puts me in a melancholy state.
"You don't speak any German, though? What a shame!" As he says this, he slowly slides his hand onto my thigh. It takes all of my strength not to cringe at his touch. "No," I say, bringing my monotone back, "Never had much of an interest to anyways. I don't think I ever will either." He scoffs a little, "Tsk tsk tsk. What a shame. You know, I could teach you if you'd like. It'd be a shame if you never learn it, Kätzchen."
I furrow my eyebrows a little, where have I heard that word before? I think it was from Anja; she once told me her father, who is German, used to call her mother that, as a term of endearment. It means kitten; he just called me kitten. "I don't think we're at a point in our acquaintance where you can nickname me anything, August." He notices the sour tone of my voice and frowns. "If you don't like me calling you that, I can call you something else. We are more than acquaintances, though, you can't fool yourself." I hate that smug tone of his voice.
We have finally arrived at the cinema. The minute I get out of the car, I start walking away from August but he starts running after me. "Eloise! Stop! Where are you going?" it almost sounds as if he is barking. He grabs my arm to flip me around, "Listen sir," I say in the most unpleasant tone I can muster up, "I didn't even want you to come tonight. You annoy me and I can't stand you! You're an egotistical ass, and I don't want anything to do with you. So please, don't try to tell me what I do and don't want. Who are you to talk to me like you own me?" I spit out the last part. Almost immediately I regret speaking with such spite because August tightens his grip on my arm with his hand from around my back, pulling it upwards while it's behind me. I'm in pain but I can't think of how to fight back. I spent all of my courage on those hateful words and I seem to have none left.