Chapter Text
The sunlight on her cheek felt warm, and the sheets felt soft. So very soft. She pulled the blanket up a little higher and yawned.
Huh..?
Jeanne's golden eyes fluttered open softly; she felt lethargic. She sat up slowly, taking in the sight of the room.
What was this? Her hands were hooked up to some sort of… beeping automaton? It was glowing with a soft light, too. She'd never seen anything like it as the display showed a steady rhythm. It was fascinating, but she didn't know where she was; it wasn't like she could just lie here. With that, she pulled it out of her skin, and suddenly the automaton went berserk, screeching in an obnoxious single tone.
There were more wires connected to her arms as well. What was all this? She pursed her lips into a pout. Just as she was about to pull it out too, a woman burst through the door.
The lady gasped, her hands covering her mouth. Jeanne didn't understand what was going on. She wasn't even sure what the last thing she remembered was!
Wait… Master Luca?! Where’s Master Luca? If she were here, then who's been guarding him?!
“Who are you? Where am I?” Jeanne demanded as she yanked the cables off.
“Hold on, you shouldn't do that,” The woman urged her to stop before poking her head back out the door and shouting. “Someone get the doctor! She's awake! And inform the grand duke!”
Huh…?
Suddenly, there was a flurry of footsteps. People rushed into her room, some in white coats, others peeking in from behind the door.
“It's a miracle!”
“She's awake? What changed in her condition? I want a full report!”
“On it!”
She didn't like this; all this attention without knowing the reason left her feeling uneasy. “What's going on? Where is Master Luca?” Jeanne demanded sternly.
“He will be here as soon as the senate meeting lets out.” A woman said as she grabbed Jeanne's hand and took her pulse.
Somehow, that put her at ease; he was in the castle performing his duties then. He must be fine. As long as Luca was alright, she shouldn't bother him while he was working.
Jeanne then looked towards the window and saw her reflection. Her hair was long, flowing past her shoulders, all the way down to the floor. Her breath hitched.
It hadn't been this long in years, not since she had chopped it into a short cut after she'd woken up.
Growing this much hair takes time. Just what was going on here?
The doctors and nurses continued to tend to her for the time being. They were hesitant to take her off the automatons.
“But why?”
“Because they monitor your condition and will tell us if your body is recovering properly.”
“But I can tell you myself.” Jeanne's retorts went unheeded.
“Doctor's orders. Do not remove them again.”
She had never been one to go against an order, though. If there was one thing Jeanne was good at, it was doing as she was told.
It was probably an hour after she had woken up when the door creaked again. A tall young man with brown hair pushed it open. All the doctors and nurses stopped what they were doing to bow.
His face… A well-defined and sharp nose, gentle cheeks, incredibly familiar.
“Master Loki..?” Jeanne strained her eyes, no, that wasn't ..
The man smiled wistfully and shook his head. He took a few steps forward and kneeled at her bedside, his gloved hand placed on top of hers. “No… Jeanne.”
The familiarity- It couldn't be; that was impossible.
“You've been asleep for quite some time.”
~~~
Just how long had she been asleep?
It had weighed on her mind from the moment Master Luca mentioned it, but with so many new things to see, it was easy to get distracted.
“Wow…!” Jeanne pressed her hand against the glass. The vehicle was unlike anything she had ever seen, but that was nothing compared to the sight of Altus right now.
Luca smiled gently in the seat next to her. “It's changed a lot, hasn't it?”
“Yes! It's unrecognizable.” Her eyes sparkled with wonder as they drove by a building that reached the clouds. There were so many vehicles on the roads, and people rushed down the sidewalk doing their own thing. But what really caught her attention was the light.
It was mesmerizing; every store window was colorful, lit up in a glow that candles or astermite just couldn't produce. The reflection on the water was even more captivating; its twinkle and glow might as well have been called magic.
“It is, but… At the very least, I'm so grateful you haven't changed a bit.” Luca spoke with gentle honesty. “I missed you, Jeanne, I've missed you so much…”
A lot had changed, including Master Luca. She pulled away from the glass and looked at her master with a bittersweet smile. He truly had grown up so much. She wished she could have been there to see it.
How long had she slept for anyway? Automaton technology advanced quickly, but it was unlikely that Altus society would embrace it with open arms so quickly.
After that, she spent the afternoon being monitored by all those doctors. Luca had a meeting he couldn't escape from, but he had promised her he would return as soon as possible.
“I'm sorry I worried you, Master Luca.”
He shook his head. “You have nothing to apologize for, Jeanne. And just Luca will suffice. You're not a Boreau anymore. I made sure of it as soon as I took my place in office.”
What. Could she dare even hope that meant what she thought?
“Master Luca..? What are you saying?” Jeanne couldn't breathe; she held her breath.
She was met with a gentle smile. “I mean, you're free. You're not only recognized as a vampire; you're regarded with utmost respect as my former knight.”
She was free? The thought was like a spring breeze. The weight of that shameful title was off her shoulders. She wasn't a tool anymore.
She was a person again, not a tool to be used. Free.
Jeanne couldn't remember a time when she had the freedom to live as she pleased. Honestly, she didn't even know where to begin exploring it. She bowed her head in gratitude. “I… Master Luca, I don't know what to say.” Unshed tears swelled in her eyes, her face flushing with the emotion, “Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, thank you!” She started to smile too as a tear escaped.
He put a hand on hers. “It's my pleasure, Jeanne. You served me faithfully for years; it's the least I could do.” He squeezed her hand, his voice going low and sweet, like honey. “I'd like to give you much more, if you'll allow it.”
More? What more could she possibly want than her freedom? Could she ask for more? Even dream of more?
What could possibly make this moment better than it already is?
Jeanne dared to dream for a moment, in this perfect, beautiful moment she had woken up in. What did she want to do?
One thing came to her mind.
‘What is it you truly desire?’ A cunning smile and playful blue eyes. She thought of the man who had held her hand and opened her heart to the impossible.
If she could have anything she wanted….
She wanted to share this news with him, share this beautiful moment.
Jeanne wanted to take Vanitas's hand and explore this new world together. She wanted to spend every day getting to know him on a deeper level.
Even if time passed. Jeanne had a feeling deep inside; she knew somewhere out there, Vanitas was waiting for her. She could feel it. After all, he'd promised.
More than anything, she wanted to see him.
“If it's alright for me to ask, I do have a request…” She whispered dreamily.
“Anything, Jeanne.” He leaned in a little closer. He still had the same familiar curve to his nose. The young boy she'd guarded may have grown up, but in her eyes, he'd always be that sweet boy.
“Do you think you could bring me to Paris? I have no idea where the border is now.” Her enthusiastic words seemed to have the opposite effect on Luca.
“Paris..? Well, if that's what you want, of course, but..” Luca trailed off a bit, his hand lifted away as he pulled back. “Why Paris?”
She blushed and fidgeted with her fingers. “I've been asleep for a while, right? I'd like to find Vanitas as soon as possible.”
Luca's smile fell. He took a deep breath and wouldn't meet her eyes. “I see…”
What was wrong? She furrowed her eyebrows. “What's the matter? Is something wrong, Master Luca?”
He shook his head. “No, I'd assumed as such, given the way you're acting today, but… Jeanne, you don't remember what happened?” He looked past her, out the window. “Nothing at all?”
~~~
“I'm sorry.” His voice trembled. Those perfect cerulean eyes held an ocean of regret as his hand left her own.
She could barely move. Jeanne reached out; she tried to speak, but nothing would come out. Vanitas's figure was getting further and further away.
No.
If he left now, she'd never see him again.
She couldn't accept that kind of future; she wouldn't!
Please.
You promised.
“Vanitas…!” She brokenly cried out his name as he disappeared from view, and the dream faded.
Jeanne shot up in bed. She brought a hand to her sweaty forehead and tried to calm herself down. A dream…
If only it were one.
She bitterly knew that was a memory.
‘You slept for over a century… Even if he hadn't died then… Well, he was a human, Jeanne.’ Master Luca had tried his best to gently break the news over dinner. She was grateful it had been a private establishment, because her response had been extremely unbecoming.
She lost it; it felt like a piece of her heart was violently torn out and burned. Jeanne couldn't even think about the food in front of her. All she could do was cry.
Vanitas was dead. He'd died that day.
She had slept through an entire century again. Master Luca was now fulfilling his role as the Grand Duke of Altus. She supposed there were still bright things in the world, still things to be happy about.
But if this was the future, she'd rather it had never come.
Even now, she could still see it, the pain in his eyes, the regret as he offered her nothing more than a soft apology.
The mark of the blue moon had overtaken half of his body, glowing and pulsing with a cursed sort of light. Resignation resided in his dulled, glowing eyes as he turned away from her, running off into a battle he wouldn't return from.
She didn't understand at that moment what he'd been apologizing for. Looking back, it was so obvious. There was no denying it. She had seen it, but there was plenty that still left her questioning what was real and what wasn't. When she had finally caught up, she found Noé with his hands wrapped around Vanitas's neck, choking the last inch of life from his corpse.
His lifeless body turned into dust in front of her, something that wasn't possible for a human.
Everything after that moment was a blur. Even now, she didn't want to think about it. That horrifying scene, the pale blue of his face in that moment before he died. In her rage, she went wild; Jeanne had never been one for strong or vile language.
But she lost everything she had ever wanted, and in that moment, she despised Noé with every fiber of her being.
He needed to pay.
It seemed so real, but none of it made any sense. She was full of so much anger and pain. Even now, she couldn't begin to understand why Noé would kill Vanitas.
But that's not what happened. Couldn't be right?
She remembered the Archiviste's bloody nose and lip from a sharp kick, the panic in his eyes as his eyes glowed a vibrant purple instead of red- Fangs pierced her neck.
And then Jeanne's world went dark; she had no memory beyond that.
What was real? And what wasn't?
She knew Vanitas died, but perhaps she'd blocked out how it really happened. Because this made no sense. Noé and Vanitas were friends. Jeanne tossed in her bed, rolling to the side and pulling the blanket up to her chin. Maybe her mind is just playing tricks on her.
Regardless, the thought was too painful to bear. So she regulated her breaths, one, two, and lay back down in her bed, hugging the blanket close to her chest as she hoped the sorrow wouldn't consume her.
~~~
That morning, she didn't want to get up. Partially because she hadn't slept, but also because she couldn't think of a single thing she wanted to do more than sleep. The sunbeam hitting her arm from the window also felt nice, and she didn't want to move.
Exploring this new world didn't seem interesting. All she wanted was to go back to the time before this. Maybe, in her dreams at least, she could return to those familiar streets of Paris.
Unfortunately for her, she wasn't given much of a choice. The attendants ushered her out of bed and picked out her clothes for her. She found herself in a large luxurious bubble bath before she knew it, and then once she was dressed, some women came in with strange loud automatons. They'd asked her if she wanted them to style her hair. Honestly, Jeanne couldn't find a reason to care either way. The end result was her dressed in a simple white blouse with a soft pink skirt, stockings to keep her legs warm from the wind’s chill, along with a jacket. Even so, they felt light, breathable, and looked interesting. Her long hair had been curled too but…
Would he have liked these clothes? What would he have thought of her hair like this? She twirled the long strand in her fingers.
What would Vanitas have thought of her right now?
Her shoulders deflated in front of the mirror, and she bit her lip. She would never have an answer to that.
“You've hardly touched your breakfast Jeanne…” Master Luca spoke gently as he dabbed his lip with a cloth napkin across from her.
She could tell he was worried; she'd always been known for how much she ate. Maybe she could force down a few more bites if it eases his mind.
“Is there anything that sounds good? Anything at all.”
Anything?
She thought of Vanitas's blood, but she couldn't ask for that either.
~~~
It had been three days. Jeanne remained by her window. The attendants and guards had all been keeping a close eye on her.
Even though she was free, she had much more supervision than she was used to. It was a strange concept, being able to get up and take a walk in the castle gardens just because she had felt like it.
She supposed that was nice, but the freedom also left her feeling more lost. Her purpose had been to protect Master Luca. She'd always been a tool. Now that she had no purpose, she was wandering aimlessly.
Because what her heart desired couldn't be found anywhere in the world. What does she want to do right now?
She supposed she wanted familiarity.
She wanted to walk those streets again and return to those days. But what good would that accomplish? Nothing, it won't bring him back, it won't bring her back to that time either, but… That's what her heart wanted right now.
Maybe if she saw how much Paris has changed, it would help. Because Paris currently remained unchanged in her memory.
So she went back to her quarters and found her closet. Her old clothes had been carefully preserved in a separate wardrobe. Her hands brushed along the edges of her signature white and pink coat, which she'd used to wear.
But when she found the blue dress she'd worn on their first date, she knew that was exactly what she wanted to wear. So Jeanne put it on, painstakingly, layer by layer, and met Luca for lunch like that.
He stopped what he'd been reading the moment she entered the room. Everyone stopped to stare at her.
“Um, Jeanne..?” Luca looked up from his report, still smiling, but with a bead of sweat on his brow. “What are you wearing?”
“Oh… Does it no longer suit me?” she asked. Maybe the quality had deteriorated a little during her long sleep, but she thought it was still wearable.
His face flared red, as if he immediately regretted his choice of words. “Not at all, you're beautiful!” He tripped over them ineloquently, while his fingers crinkled the papers with awkward force. “What I mean to say is, I bought you plenty of new clothes to wear. Wouldn't those be more comfortable?”
Even though Luca had grown, he was still the same sweet and thoughtful boy she knew and loved.
“Thank you, Master Luca, but this is fine.” She said as she bowed and took a seat at the table.
They ate in silence for a few minutes until Jeanne decided to announce her intentions. “Master Luca. I think I'll be going to Paris this afternoon.”
Luca tensed, his fork and knife grating on the dish while he gave her a sympathetic look. “Paris? Are you feeling up to that? Perhaps it might be better to stay and rest here for a little while longer-”
She shook her head. “I appreciate your concern, but I must go.” She had to; nothing so far had felt right. But she felt this urge, this pull.
She needed to do this now, not later.
Luca bit his lip, hand e brought a hand to his chin. “Jeanne, I really don't think this is a good idea.”
Master Luca… She knew she'd worried him the past few days, but there was no changing her mind.
And that's how Jeanne ended up at the Altus-Paris border surrounded by 5 personal bodyguards. They surrounded her on all sides; it was a familiar feeling, one she hadn't experienced in ages. As a borreau, she had minders; she wasn't freely allowed to do anything or even take a step without permission. If she so much as spoke without instruction, they'd report her.
And then she'd face the consequences.
All her minders died by her own hands in Gévauden centuries ago; none of it brought back any pleasant memories. She touched the glowing screen on the automaton Luca had insisted she take.
It took her a solid minute to slowly poke out the message on the ‘keyboard.’
‘Master Luca, I appreciate your concern, but I don't want these men following me.’
She pressed the send button, and within a few seconds, there were three little bubbles on her screen.
‘Lucius Oriflamme is typing…’
Luca had important meetings he couldn't get out of today. When he failed to convince her to give up on her plan for today, he insisted on sending security.
‘I understand, Jeanne, but they know their way around Paris. I can ask them to stay out of your way if that's better?’
His reply appeared so fast. How was he so quick at typing?
‘I won't get lost or venture far, please, trust me, Master Luca. I can take care of myself.’
She was a trained fighter; there was no reason to be worried about her safety. The reply didn't come as fast this time. She waited for over a minute, sitting on the bench.
‘Alright, I trust you, Jeanne.’
Master Luca… Jeanne smiled softly at his words.
‘But for my peace of mind, keep your location sharing on. Once I'm done with work, I'll follow your phone and find you.’
Huh? Location sharing? Could it do that too? What an incredible little automaton. They exchanged a few more messages, and Luca recalled the order. The bodyguards gave her a quick bow and left.
A car sped past her on the streets of Paris, her long hair flowing in the sudden breeze. She took a seat on a nearby bench, clutching her parasol a little tighter.
The man next to her frowned; a woman looked her up top to bottom, silently judging her before turning away with a huff.
The blue crinoline dress that had once suited her so marvelously now made her an out-of-place spectacle.
Jeanne had really underestimated how much had changed this time around. Even though she'd seen a glimpse of present-day Altus, she thought surely not everything could be like that. Maybe she secretly was hoping Paris wouldn't be like that. Last time she slept through a century, there were a lot of advancements, and the fashion had evolved in its own ways. But the change had not been anywhere near as drastic as this. She had even been able to get away with wearing her old clothes for a little while until she was given new ones.
She assumed it would be the same, even wished for it; unfortunately, now she looked like she walked out of a theater troupe. Everyone wore the easy-to-maneuver, breathable clothes that Luca had filled her closet with; they were nothing like her constricted corseted ensemble.
But still, Vanitas had liked this dress. He thought she was beautiful in it. It was the dress she'd worn on their first date.
And this was how she was choosing to process her grief. There was no reason she was retracing the steps of their first date other than an instinct deep inside her urging her on. She couldn't explain it, but Jeanne needed this today, like a sick man needed medicine and care. There didn't need to be a reason. She would go wherever her steps guided her today.
It had been a challenge just to get Master Luca to agree to this. She'd noticed he hadn't let her out of the castle unless she was directly in his line of sight since the day she'd woken up.
She'd been confined to his wing of the castle, maids watching her every step, physicians monitoring her with strange automatons.
It had been such a confusing week. A confusing, painful, heartbreaking week.
There were so many strange automatons everywhere that she couldn't even begin to keep track of all of them or their purposes.
But now that she was retracing the steps of their date, seeing the physical proof that the Paris she had known no longer existed, she felt incredibly lonely.
She could retrace their steps, but she could never return to that day.
So Jeanne closed her eyes and thought of another memory. This time, she thought of that night they'd shared a cabin in Gévauden, the feeling of his skin against hers as the snow fell beyond the window in that cabin, the way his cheeks dusted red as she sealed their lips together.
As the wind got a bit colder, she wondered if it would snow here, too.
Speaking of the wind, there was a delicious scent in the air. Familiar and sweet, and for the first time since she'd woken up, Jeanne felt an appetite to eat.
She walked down the block, less focused on the scenery and instead more focused on following the comforting smell.
Somehow, it seemed to travel much further than the other restaurants around her. It shouldn't be physically possible, even for a vampire, to trace the smell of delicious baked goods so far away. But she wasn't going to think about that.
Finally, she reached her destination. The outside was nothing special; it was a small bakery on an old street, and the wood paneling around the windows had been painted an elegant shade of navy blue, which was peeling off the siding. The inside of the shop a subtle contrast, a warm amber glow from the lights above gave it a cozy atmosphere.
As the wind caused her to shiver again, Jeanne decided it was time to get out of the cold and eat a proper meal.
So she walked across the street, and a young girl with blue eyes stared up at her with wide-eyed amazement. The child's mother whispered not to stare and tugged her along.
The doorbell jingled as she let herself into the cafe. Just as she was going to take another step, her skirt unfortunately got caught on the small door frame. The patrons stared at her for a moment before going back to minding their own business. Its wooden tables were lined with white tablecloths, and the display cases were filled with many beautiful treats.
“Welcome, come from a show?” The cashier behind the register asked, her blonde hair tied back in a ponytail.
Jeanne shook her head and finally pulled herself through the doorway. Just as she was about to open her mouth and reply, a familiar scent hit her. Delectable, and instantly mouth-watering.
A warm, delicious delicacy that had her heart aching in nostalgia.
She approached the display, trying to tell what treat it was coming from, but she couldn't pinpoint it at all.
“Anything catch your eye? Everything is baked daily in-house.” The salesgirl announced as she kept her professional smile.
Jeanne was awfully hungry, and she could get a few things. “Can I have one of each of these?” She pointed her finger at a shelf.
If she couldn't figure out which one it was, she'd just try them all.
“Sure, that will be €37.” The girl used a set of prongs to grab the treats out of the display and placed them on their own respective plates.
“Euro?” Jeanne cocked her head to the side. What happened to francs? She had already pulled out a few she'd had left in her dress pocket.
“Are those anciens francs?” The cashier chimed in politely with an awkward laugh. “You're dedicated to the look, I'll give you that. But seriously, we can't accept those.”
“You don't use francs anymore? At all?” Jeanne balked. Now that she thought about it, Luca had mentioned a currency change? But he said if she wanted to buy something, she'd need her ‘smartphone’.
She glanced down at the automaton. Its screen still glowed, ‘sharing location.’
Well, if she gave it up, then she'd just need to wait here, right? Perhaps that would be alright; the weather was getting awfully cold. But was she really supposed to trade the automaton for lunch, though?
An automaton is still more valuable than some bread, right… She pulled out her phone and placed it on the counter. The cashier picked it up and placed it on top of her own automaton. The moment their screens pressed together, a little chime resounded.
“Alright, you're all set. Take a seat, and we'll bring the rest to your table.” She handed the automaton back to her for some odd reason. Wasn’t it a payment?
Jeanne nodded and took the automaton back, eyeing it funny before shrugging it off. She took it back to her seat, even if she didn't quite understand how or what she'd paid with. As she bit into the first pastry, it tasted nice; the texture was incredibly soft and delicious. But it wasn't the scent that had lured her to this place.
Suddenly, there was a loud crash from the kitchen; someone must have dropped a plate. The glass shattered the relative silence of the cafe. It momentarily stole everyone's attention before the patrons returned to what they'd been doing before.
The smell hit her like a wave, the scent of blood. Nothing more than a small scrape on someone's finger. Her eyes shot open as she took another deep breath, making sure her mind wasn't playing a cruel trick on her.
Now that it was stronger. Jeanne felt her mouth water; she knew that scent. She'd recognize that scent anywhere.
Vanitas.
And the scent of her own mark, too.
Could this be? Was it a dream?
It didn't matter; she sprang into action. Corset or not, Jeanne jumped over the counter and towards the staff-only door. The cashier screamed and fell to the ground, scrambling away. The other patrons in the store froze. A man dropped his coffee cup; it shattered and spilled on the floor, and another pulled out a camera to film.
She burst through the doors, pushing them open, revealing the pristine kitchen. Not a drop of flour out of place. A man grumbled to himself as he swept up the remains of a plate, his thumb freshly bleeding.
He was dressed in white, his black hair tied back in a bun, leaving only his sharp bangs to frame his face. His face was exactly as she remembered it, beautiful, delicate features that could charm anyone with ease. He still looked light enough for Jeanne to easily swoop him up into her arms and carry him away.
Could it really be…?
“Vanitas…?” Jeanne whispered his name in disbelief.
The man in question looked up, his brows furrowed in confusion.
Dark blue eyes instead of a vibrant copper sulphate.
The shade was different, the blue far less dramatic, gentle even. Jeanne didn't care; she took another step.
Tears started to well in her eyes.
It was really him. She'd missed him, and after a week of believing him to be dead, Jeanne had never been more certain of anything.
She was never going to let him go again; she's cherish every second she can with him.
She'd missed him more than she'd ever missed anyone. Jeanne rushed over, her hair bouncing behind her as she let out a choked sob.
Vanitas stiffened up, as if he were at a complete loss of what to do amidst being charged at. Jeanne, however, had no hesitation; they had so much time to make up for. The logistics didn't matter, as long as Vanitas was here, as long as they could be together again.
He took a few steps back, but Jeanne closed the distance in a millisecond. Her eyes turned red as she wrapped her arms around him tightly, clinging to him as if he could disappear at any moment.
“Vanitas..!” Her voice broke.She brought her hands to his face, cupping his soft cheeks in her palm as she scanned every inch of it. “It's really you; you kept your promise.” Her heart was beating rapidly, and she put her hands in his hair, cradling his head as she pulled him down into a familiar kiss on instinct. His lips were soft against her own.
It was both electric and comforting the moment their lips met. She'd been lost in an unfamiliar world, and now she finally had the one person who made everything all right again. “I missed you. I wanted to see you.” She whispered in between stolen kisses and breaths. A tear escaped her eyes as she deepened the kiss.
Those blue eyes widened in shock, and he made a muffled noise as Jeanne's fang extended and she bit his lip, drawing out a small taste of his blood.
To her confusion, Vanitas wasn't kissing back.
Jeanne didn't want to pull away; she didn't want to pull back. She needed Vanitas right now like she needed air. But out of concern for Vanitas's comfort, Jeanne stopped.
Vanitas's pierced lip was dyed in the crimson of his blood as he stared at her in utter shock with no recognition in his eyes.
“Vanitas..?” She asked, tilting her head.
“H-huh?!” A delayed response, Vanitas's face went red as he raised his voice and darted behind a counter. “Who the hell are you?!”
What..?
He can't possibly mean that…
“You… don't recognize me?” Jeanne cut him off, she felt a cool terror rush through her, and she got closer anyway. “That can't be… I know it's you, Vanitas, look at me.”
“What are you, a cosplayer? Is this a joke?” Vanitas kept backing up until he was flat against the wall, a bead of sweat rolling down his face. Almost as enticing as the blood staining his lips.
She could smell her mark on him. It was Vanitas without a shadow of a doubt. Jeanne closed the distance between them and slammed the wall, pinning him between her and it.
He let out a squeak.
“What are you saying, Vanitas? Look, my mark is right here.” Jeanne pulled the white bow of his dress shirt, unraveling it as Vanitas covered his face with his hands.
“Wait, wait, wait!” He wasn't even facing her out of fear of being kissed again. She pulled his shirt back, exposing the crook of his neck just enough to reveal her mark.
Or… what should have been her mark.
Jeanne stared at the unblemished skin that rose and fell with his unsteady breaths. Where was her mark? It was gone, the familiar red rose missing.
No, but she still smelled it; she definitely could. Then why wasn't it-
“Police. Don't move.” An officer came in through the door, flashing his badge. The salesgirl was trembling behind the man, pointing at the scene.
Jeanne looked down at Vanitas again, confused. It was his face, his voice, even his scent, yet he was looking up at her like a stranger.
He didn't look terrified. He was shocked, confused, and somehow that gaze alone hurt worse than she could describe.
Her shoulders slumped forward, and she released him. This didn't make any sense.
The police came up to her, saying things she wasn't even fully paying attention to, and put a pair of cuffs on her. She didn't even protest; she just couldn't tear her eyes away. Vanitas just stared at her too. He didn't bother to fix his shirt; he kept her gaze until she was physically led out of the kitchen and the doors shut behind them.
Wait.
Oh no.
That's when it hit her; she got arrested in the human world.