je ne t'aime pas

I understand you there… well, may I at least keep you company?

"We, who?" Charles asked, confused as to who exactly was going to shoot at them. He briefly wondered if the other was threatening him in some way, but he doubted it. He was pretty sure he’d misunderstood, that’s usually what it was. "Uh, well, ya kinda did just bad talk America, most people who do that are from other places…or not, I don’t know." He paused, tilting his head at the other, before raising an eyebrow. "Did you just call me a cherry? I ain’t got a problem with it, but I never been called anythin’ like that before, and I’ve been called a bunch of things. Is that, like, a French thing? Y’all call each other fruits?" 

For a while, Louis simply stared at the other. He had no clue what was going on. Was this a joke? Finally, it clicked, and he put the pieces together. He gave the man a sympathetic smile. “Non — oui is French. It means yes.” He could speak entirely in English if he wanted to, but Louis found no point in neglecting his native tongue for another. He found it repulsive when people forgot their own culture to become more western. “Americans call the French fruits,” Louis offered, entirely amused by this points. “Cheri is a term of a deer mint.” Yeah, he didn’t understand English so well, either. And, come to think of it, “a deer mint” was a damn funny way to say that something was an affectionate term to call another person, but pronouncing “endearment” was hard when he’d never even read the word and only heard it a handful of times. “You are cute. I like you. My name is Louis.”

”- Really? They’d shoot us? Do ya mean, like, shoot with a gun, or somethin’ else?” He frowned, scratching his head, not sure how to respond to that. “…Um, so are you not from America? Where ya from, buddy?”

"Oui. With guns." Louis wasn't entirely certain if that was the truth or not, but he was taking it and running with it as if it was. He did, however, know that the only person he'd seen with a gun on them was the warden. No one else seemed to carry one. "Is it that clear? Non, mon cheri -- I am from France."

Is there anything you do to usually help you sleep?

[He chuckled bitterly.] When my fiancee left, I found it hard to sleep. Nothing helps.

"They would shoot us before we dance," Louis replied, almost as if it meant absolutely nothing. "The warden likes nothing fun. Prison in America is for torture, not to get better."

Hello, handsome. How are you?

Je suis fatigué . It's late, and still I find no sleep.

Non, mon cheri. I expect the cannibal to know where his talents are, and that they deserve praise.

To a certain extent, maybe, yes I do but I only have one true need and I know how to achieve it very very well. I’m only open to other things as much as I need to in order to reach that very need.

-A sly smile meets Raphael’s features, knowing he’s said enough to catch the other’s curiosities. He has no problem in saying that he manipulates. His own lawyer knew he did and still she allowed him past her guard. He didn’t need to be sneaky to pull his stunts.- I always found that to be true myself. Though I was a native, they swooned over my Italian roots. Odd, yes, how people always want different from what they’ve got?

If you also mean wallets -- then that is why I am here. You must understand, mon cher, that I have been with many people in many places with many different needs. The key to life as I live it is being open to everything. Do you not feel the same way?

Well that ain’t untrue. She was a lovely woman, the perfect one to have wrapped around my finger. It’s only by the good graces of our warden that her life ain’t ruined…. but… people in France ain’t swayed by good looks and charm?