Poppy rested her head in her hands, dreading to hear Francis' answer. Say no, she thought. Please say no.
"Vivienne, you're a linguist. You're supposed to know what words mean, but it seems you lack knowledge in the word 'no'." There was silence, and he shut the door without listening to a response. He returned to the tent, his expression unreadable. "I'm sorry about that."
(Sick burn, Francis.) She was quiet for a moment, her knees pulled to her chest and her arms wrapped around them. The sheet hung off her loosely, and she finally looked up at him, her thoughts hard to read. "It wasn't your fault," she said. "But.." She trailed off, clearly hesitant, unsure if she wanted to hear the answer. Finally, she cleared her throat. "If I ask you something, can you promise to be completely honest about your answer? Even if you think that it might hurt me?"
"Do you..." She hesitated once again, the reluctance evident in her voice. She cleared her throat and spoke in a quiet rush. "Do you still love her? It's okay if you do. I mean, I know that you guys broke things off two years ago, and I know that you really loved her, and I know that she certainly seems interested in you now, and I want you to be happy, so if you did love her, and if you did want to be with her, I would be want you to do that." She stopped herself, aware that she was rambling. She pulled her legs closer to herself and frowned.
"I... God. I don't love her anymore. I did used to, before I realized who she really is. I was stupid years ago, and blind. I don't love her anymore. I love you. I love you so much more than I loved her." He took her hands, his eyes helpless. "I'm sorry if I made you think otherwise."
Her hands fit with his and she held them tightly, her eyes darting to look up at him. "No no no. Please don't be sorry. You've done nothing wrong. I just... I just want to make sure. I don't want you to feel as if you're here out of..." She paused, looking for the right word. "Obligation. Like, just because you've told me that you love me, that means you have to stay here even though you really would rather be with her. Or something like that."
Their eyes met, grey and brown, and finally she nodded. "Okay," she said, exhaling slightly. "Okay. I believe you."
"Thank you," she responded, pulling the blanket tighter around herself. A small smile crossed her face, and her body relaxed. "I was almost certain you were going to go on that walk with her."
"I would never," he said, getting closer to her, gently placing a hand on her jaw. "I can't imagine doing anything like that."
A hint of a smile curved her lips upward, and she moved a little closer to him, her eyes on his. "I'm holding you to that."
"Lovely," she said when they parted, her face mere inches from his. "I now have a monopoly on 'Francis Walks'."
She grinned at him, totally enamored. "The word 'monopoly' has more uses than just the game, you know."
He laughed. "I actually might still be loopy. Or just tired." He went back to laying down. "I always used to win at Monopoly, but now I find it boring." (You could say he got board of it.)
(God damn it.) "Oh, you're too good for it now?" Poppy teased, looking down at him. "You've outgrown it?"
(I'm sorry. It's all fun and games.) "Yep. I got too talented at it and had to retire." He nodded, resting his arm on his stomach. "I didn't even have to cheat to win."
