Lucille's dressing room was filled with more flowers than usual.
Roses crowded Baby's Breath, Chrysthanthimums fought purple Irises and giant white Lilies swallowed delicate magenta orchids.
The smell was heavenly and Francoeur was over whelmed.
How was today more special than usual?
Francoeur sat awkwardly on the couch, trying not to damage the surrounding foliage. His fingers plucked at the guitar nervously. He loved flowers- but this many made his head spin. The fragrance was intoxicating.
Lucille was running late today, the nightly concert started in a half hour. He hoped she wasn't running late. He could hear, even from where he was sitting, that the dining room was packed.
The din of low voices and silverware vibrated through the building.
There was a knock at the door.
Flowers just kept being delivered to the room; he had to wade through them all just to catch the next delivery boy. This time was no different. He had to dance to avoid crumpling the many blossoms.
Francoeur glanced out of the threshold and stared down at the young delivery boy. Grimy blonde hair poked out from under a driver's cap and a smudge slid down the side of his nose.
"A delivery for Mr. Francoeur?" The young man stared up questioningly. His wide eyes were brimming with unspoken fear. Even though Francoeur was in his theatre attire, he still cut an intimidating figure. His shadow loomed over most men.
Francoeur nodded. A package was thrust into his arms and the delivery boy promptly left. The sound of bike on pavement was the only proof he was ever there.
It was a box wrapped in red paper and twine. It wasn't very large, maybe the size of a shoe box.
He walked back to the room, gingerly avoiding white peonies and pink carnations.
He hadn't received a package before.
Francoeur looked up from the package to find Lucille lounging on the low sofa, flowers pushed aside without worry or care. Her face was contorted in some strange emotion he didn't understand yet. She bit her lower lip.Her eyes were full of such intensity he had to look away.
"I see you got a package."
Francoeur chirped in assent. Today was getting stranger and stranger.
"You know what today is?"
Francoeur shook his head. He had no clue what she was getting at. It was the fourteenth of February, but he was smart enough to know that wasn't what she was asking.
"Its Valentine's day, you might not understand yet, "she paused, getting up from the couch and kicking flowers aside to cross the room. She took one of Francoeur's empty hands. "But it's a day when people proclaim their love for another with flowers, candy…and gifts." She stared down at the package.
Francoeur let out a confused sound, but did as he was told. He tore off the twine and paper. His deft hands dug themselves into the box. Lucilles eyes sparkled. Her angel-winged attire fluttered in the slight lips thin with anticipation.
"The company insisted on sending a delivery boy- feh, at least he's getting paid."
Francoeur gently tore through tissue paper. Underneath it all was an even tinier package. He could hear Lucille hold her breath.
He unwrapped the present to reveal something gold and glinting in the dressing room light.
"It's a locket. You use it to remember special people."
Francoeur just stared at it, watching streaks of light play upon its surface. It twirled back and forth in the air like a tiny dancer. Lucille stared searchingly into his face.
Madame Carlotta barged into the room.
"Oh Lucille, Mr. Francoeur! You're on in five.
"Be right out!"
Lucille stared back at Francoeur; her shoulders slumped in what seemed like disappointment. She kicked a pile of yellow roses. Suddenly she held the air of a wounded animal.
"I'll see you on stage." She stomped out of the room.
Francoeur stared after her. He couldn't quite grasp what made her so frustrated. He lifted the delicate locket over his neck, and hid it under his shirt to keep it safe. The golden circle cold against his flea heart. If what Lucille had said about this locket was true- he wanted to remember Lucille forever.
The giant flea stood up and headed out of Lucille's room toward the stage leaving flower petals in his wake.
A/N: A shortie, for a thirty minute Valentine's Day Challenge proposed by Midground.