Hellcheer Anastasia AU
Summary: Chrissy doesn’t remember where she came from nor who her family is. She has no memories, no last name. She’s been alone all her life, passed from orphanage to orphanage with only a locket and a folded up letter inside that says:
Meet me in Paris
My Darling
Snippet:
That’s how she finds herself in The Hideout, a seedy old tavern on the outskirts of the city, standing in front of the notorious conman Edward Munson. Traveling papers are difficult to come by these days, but she’s heard rumors on the streets that he can help procure them. For a price, of course. She doesn’t have much, but she’s saved a little. She hopes it will be enough. He’s appraising her slowly, warily, dark eyes wide and a little formidable.
“What?” she asks anxiously, subconsciously touching her face and neck to make sure she can’t feel any dried mud there.
“Nothing, sorry,” he murmurs, still gawking. “You just… you look…”
She waits, fiddling her fingers nervously.
“Nevermind,” he shakes his head slightly, motioning toward the seat across the small table from him. “Take a seat, Miss…”
“Chrissy.” she supplies, slowly lowering herself down.
“Chrissy…?”
“Just Chrissy.” she tells him.
“Ah ha,” he drawls slowly, thoughtfully, giving her another once over.
“So… how does this work, exactly?” she asks him quietly as the barhand walks by, setting the glass of water she ordered on the table.
“…Oh, just like any ol’ sale.” he waits to reply until the boy’s gone. “Money first, I get you the papers, it’s as simple as that.”
“H-how do I know you won’t disappear with the money?” she asks. “After I pay you?”
He grins slowly, devilishly and she feels her heart skip a beat. He’s younger and more handsome than she imagined he’d be when she heard his name being whispered in the streets.
“What’s the matter? Don’t I look trustworthy?” he asks teasingly, leaning forward, tilting his head to one side for her to assess for herself. Flushing, she quickly looks down at her hands, her fingers are still red and stiff from having walked all the way here through the snow.
“…Something tells me you’re not going to have enough anyway, sweetheart.” his voice is gentle, sympathetic.
“I have some saved,” she murmurs bashfully, feeling her lower lip push forward slightly.
“How much?”
With a sigh, she pulls out the coins and paper banknotes, laying them out on the table. It’s almost eighty rubles, her entire life’s savings since she left the orphanage.
“You do realize I’d be risking my life for this, right?” he chuckles at the meager offering.
“It’s… all I have.” she shrugs her shoulders hopelessly, feeling as though she might cry.
“Sure about that?” he reaches forward and she gasps brokenly at the feel of his rough fingers suddenly against her throat, leaving a hot trail against her snow kissed skin in their wake as they follow along the chain hanging around her neck. He stops just when he reaches the plush skin above her breasts, tugging upward to reveal the gold locket that was hiding between them.
She can feel her own blood racing through her whole body.
No, please, not that.
His eyes gleam as he takes it in, running his thumb over the engraved lilies and the white pearl embedded in the center. “Now that’s a pretty thing.” he muses breathlessly. “Where did a little waif like you get something like this?”
“I didn’t steal it if that’s what you’re wondering.” she tells him, frown deepening. “I’ve had it for as long as I can remember.”
His twinkling gaze meets hers with a giddy smile. “This is real gold, sweetheart… the pearl alone could get you back and forth over the border ten times if you wanted.”
“…it’s not for bartering.” she tells him firmly, pulling it back and shoving it between the layers of her coat and blouse.
“I’d reconsider,” he rests his cheek into the palm of his coal tainted hand still lingering between them. “A few hot meals and somewhere to sleep would probably serve you better than a cold trinket to wear.”
“It’s important to me.” she replies, pocketing her money. She’d be angry if she wasn’t so weary, so devastated. Another deadend. “I think this was a mistake.”
“Hey, hey, hold on,” she stills when he feels his hand grip hers. “Hold on…let me buy you a drink, something besides ice water, maybe?”
She glances back at him, brows furrowed. The warmth in his eyes makes her slowy sit back down. His thumb runs over her raw knuckles before he makes his way up to the bar. “I’ll be right back… Don’t disappear,” he rasps as he passes, though it’s more of a plea than an order. She blinks up at him, nodding slightly. She watches his back as he goes.
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