Demittere
Written for Manon.
Florian sat on the earth, cross-legged, looking at Andre solemnly. His hair was tumbled and his clothes were rumpled, and he sighed a little, shrugging his shoulders. Andre just stared at him silently.
At last Florian spoke. "I think, my child, that it's about time we talked about this. I realise you mean well, and I'm glad you want your freedom. It's admirable, particularly from someone whom I rely upon so much." He reached up and stroked Andre's cheek. "But to be frank, Andre, you really must stop bucking me off. It's the third time this week."
Andre nickered.
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