Rimbaud Decides to Give Up

I'm Rimbaud, a French intelligence agent who started acting like a mother to my partner when I was fifteen.

Today, I've decided to embrace the French spirit of going on strike. Whoever wants this job can do it. Whoever wants to take care of this partner can do it. I'm done.

As for why I'm suddenly abandoning the good son (crossed out) partner I've looked after for years, it all started with a dream I had just now.

In the dream, my good son betrayed me during some crappy little mission. I didn't die, but I lost my memories and ended up working for nine years for some crappy organization on some crappy little island nation. In the end, two brats killed me.

One of them wouldn't even leave me alone after I died. He often sat by my shabby grave, talking to himself. I'd even prepared a backup plan to save the life of the good son who betrayed me, but then I could only watch him grow mushrooms in a basement.

I woke up furious.

After waking, I looked at Paul, sleeping peacefully, and couldn't resist punching him.

He asked with concern whether I'd had a nightmare.

Ah, now I'm even angrier.

I'm certain that dream is about something that will happen in the future. It's a warning.

So I took five minutes to smoke a cigarette and decided to leave the French government after this mission. Whoever wants this job can do it.

Loyalty? How could an arrogant Transcendent ever truly give everything to an organization?

Rimbaud sneered.

I'm Verlaine, a French intelligence agent who secretly praises my partner in my heart every day.

In my previous life, I grew mushrooms in the basement of some crappy organization in some crappy little country until I died. I never thought I'd get the chance to live again and meet my loved one once more.

Thanks to all my years as an intelligence agent and partner in my previous life, I successfully made Rimbaud think I was a helpless little thing with no common sense who couldn't take care of myself (?).

Ah, I love Rimbaud so much, but I don't dare confess. It seems like he only sees me as a child he's raising.

So I started trying to seduce him, but he doesn't seem moved at all.

Today, I once again managed to lie down and sleep beside Rimbaud by acting innocent, only to suddenly get punched by him.

It didn't hurt, but it made me feel wronged.

After punching me, he went out to smoke. I picked up the coat by the bed and draped it over him, enclosing his slightly chilly hands in mine.

He glanced at me. His eyes held a complexity I couldn't quite understand.

After this mission, I want to go see the sea near the equator with Arthur. He's always cold.

I watched Rimbaud's face gradually blur in the smoke, but suddenly felt as if he were about to leave me.

++++Verlaine gazed at his partner with sea-blue eyes, his only anchor in the world as he drifted like a ghost. In a voice so faint the wind could almost carry it away, he asked

+++

+"Arthur? Are you going to leave?"

1. Pairing is Verlaine/Rimbaud and Rimbaud/Verlaine. I don't know who's on top or bottom.

2. Verlaine gets a second chance at life and finally comes out of his shell.

3. No crematorium trope. Sob, sob, the French team in the original is so tragic.

4. Haven't figured it out yet. I'll add more later.

Theme: Live life to the fullest.