#soft codron??

Word Count: 1,240

The storeroom was quiet, the dim overhead light flickering as you sifted through the supplies. Genet had sent you here under the pretense of inventory, though her instructions had been... oddly specific, on top of this not being your usual responsibility. 

“Check the storeroom near the east wing,” she’d said, “there’s been some confusion about our stock levels. It’ll only take a moment.” 

You’d obeyed, of course, grabbing a clipboard and heading to the far side of the compound. The storeroom was secluded, its silence broken only by the occasional hum of the generator outside. As you scribbled notes about canned goods and spare parts, the door creaked open behind you. Instinctively, your hand went to the knife at your side. 

“Relax,” came Codron’s voice, rough and unmistakable. You turned, your pulse quickening as he stepped inside, the door clicking shut behind him. 

“Codron,” you said, your voice steadier than you felt. “What are you doing here?” 

He raised an eyebrow, holding up a small toolkit. “Genet sent me to check the generator. Thought I’d grab some spare parts while I’m at it.” Your stomach twisted. Of course she had. 

“I guess we both got sent here, then,” you forced a casual tone as you returned your attention back to the clipboard. Codron didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he crossed the room with that deliberate grace of his, pausing by one of the shelves to rummage through its contents. You tried not to watch him, but his presence filled the space, making it impossible to focus. You found your eyes drifting to the silhouette of his face, studying the tattoo etched into his skin- the way it wrapped around and moved with his prominent features. 

“She’s testing you,” he said suddenly, his tone neutral. 

Your eyes snap back to your clipboard, Codron’s comment catching you completely off guard. “What?” 

“Genet,” he said, eyes now on you. “She’s seeing how far you’ll go for her.” 

You frowned, unsure how to respond. “Why do you say that?” 

Codron let out a half smirk, though there was no humor in it. “Because she’s setting these little scenarios up on purpose. You don’t really think this is all coincidental, do you? She’s pushing buttons, seeing what you’ll do. Sending us both out to complete irrelevant tasks? This isn’t your job, and it sure as hell isn’t mine.” 

Your chest tightened. Was he already onto her game- or worse, had he already figured you out? “And what about you?” you asked, trying to shift the focus. “Is she testing you?”  

His expression hardened; his jaw visibly clenching. “I’m not her pet project,” his voice cold, “I’m aware that she doesn’t trust me, entirely. But that doesn’t change the fact that she’s keeping me distracted from my purpose of even coming to Maison Mere.” 

His goal?.. You so desperately wanted to ask him what he meant by that, but you couldn’t get the thought of Codron discovering your feelings towards him out of your head. The silence that followed was heavy, the tension between you two was almost suffocating. You wanted to ask how much he really knew. But before you could say anything else, Codron grabbed a wrench from the shelf and turned towards the door. 

“Good luck,” he said over his shoulder, his tone carrying a hint of warning. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again.” Then he was gone, leaving you alone in the dim, flickering light. 

A few days later, you find yourself in the armory. This time, you were actually there to do your assigned job; counting inventory, blade sharpening and cleaning, making any adjustments where they were needed. The room was quiet and peaceful. You enjoyed being in here alone- no Guerrier walking around or in your business, no tense interactions with Genet or other occupants of the compound- just you, the weapons, and your thoughts of the old world. Your fingers began to trace along one of the blades that you’ve been inspecting, as your mind drifts off to memories of before your time in France. But just as your thoughts start to form, you hear the sound of heavy boots on the concrete ground of the armory. You didn’t need to look up to know who it was. 

“Working hard, I see,” Codron said, his voice laced with a hint of sarcasm, as he stopped a few feet away from where you stood. You glanced up at him, unable to stop the small smile tugging at your lips. 

“Something like that. What brings you here?” 

He shrugged. His body language was less guarded than usual today. “Genet said someone might need help.” 

You raised an eyebrow. “And she sent you?” 

“Apparently,” he said, now casually leaning against the wall. “Though I am thinking she was wasting my time with this one.” 

You rolled your eyes and turned back to the knife you’ve been fiddling with. “If it’s such a waste of time, you don’t have to stay.” 

You were shocked to hear the sound of a chuckle come from Codron. He shook his head, hiding what seemed like a smile, “Were you always this snippy? Or is it just an American thing?” 

That caught you off guard. Is he... joking with you right now? You decided to test the waters- straightening yourself out and meeting his gaze. “I don’t know. Are you always this smug, or is it just a French thing?” 

For a moment, you could see another smile starting on his face, but it quickly faded. Instead, he stepped closer, his eyes dropping to the blade in your hand. “You’re holding it wrong,” he said, reaching out. Before you could respond, his hand brushed yours, adjusting your grip on the knife. His touch was brief, but it sent a jolt through you all the same.  

“Better,” he said, stepping back as if nothing had happened. 

You stared at your hand, where Codron’s just was, your heart racing. “T-thanks, I guess.. B-but I know how to hold a blade.” You tried your best to shove your embarrassment down, stuttering over your words. 

Codron crossed his arms, watching you now with that unreadable expression that he wears so well. “You’re an odd one.” 

You frowned, unsure of how to take that. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“It means you don’t fit,” he said simply. “Not with Genet. Not with this place. As I’ve said before, you really aren’t like the others here.” 

His words stung, but there was no malice in them- just an observation. “And what about you?” you countered, trying to hide your discomfort. “Do you fit?” 

Codron’s face shifted a bit, his gaze hardening. For a moment, you thought he wouldn’t answer. 

“I fit where I need to,” he finally said, his tone cold. The weight of his words hung between you, followed by another heavy silence. You seem to share a lot of these between each other. Your brain scrambled for a proper response to his statement, but once again, he turned and headed to leave. Just before reaching the door, he looked to you over his shoulder. “I’ll be gone for a few days,” your eyes widened with a touch of worry at his words, but before you could say anything, he continued, “But I hope to see you, again.” 

Your face softened with a smile, the butterflies finally being set free in your stomach, watching as he left the room. “You too, Codron.”