“Bonjour, ma chèrie!” Francis slipped a rose into your lap. “I have just returned!”
Interrupted whilst tu were in the middle of your book, tu exclaimed, “Oi! I was reading, tu wanker!” Swatting away the handsome Frenchman, tu scowled as he attempted straddling you, lips seeking yours. “Hey! Hey!” Your protests were to no avail, however, and Francis was victorious as he planted a kiss upon your flustered lips.
Immediately, tu gave in and kissed him back, rivaling his passion.
Sinking deeper into you, Francis pulled back briefly to smile and say, “Aha! I have tamed the shrew, non?” Rolling your eyes, tu shut him up with another kiss. He chuckled, subtle stubble brushing against your cheek as he eventually lifted his head to kiss your forehead. “Actually, I have a proposition of sorts for tu tonight.” His frisky eyes danced over tu and tu suspected it was sexual.
“Oh?” Interested, tu propped yourself up. “And what exactly is that?”
Francis snorted, teasing you, “Silly, that would ruin la surprise!”
Resisting the urge to conk him upside the head, tu folded your arms. “If tu say so, Frog.” tu pouted as he stood and strode away, but was pleasantly surprised when he returned with your favorito! tea. Cheeks flushing, tu accepted it and muttered, “Thanks.”
“Anytime, ma belle.”
Sipping your té carefully, your nose crinkled at the slightly harsh taste. Something wasn’t right. tu glanced up at Francis, who was watching tu without any amusement; of course tu were suspicious. Skeptical, tu cynically asked, “Pray tell, tu didn’t put anything in my tea, did you?”
Francis raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know,” a smile crept onto his lips, “did I?”
Gingerly pressing the rim to your lips, tu muttered, “Better not have, o I’ll have your head.”
Francis was delighted and his accent grew heavier. “Really? Where will tu have it?”
Spluttering, té spewing, tu exclaimed, “Not like that tu pervert! Dear God, won’t tu go elsewhere?” Francis murmured something about God doing as he pleased and tu gulped down the rest of your té and irritably clinked it onto the nearest table. “I thought tu had a meeting to attend?”
Francis chuckled, “Yes indeed, Mademoiselle Kirkland,” a favorito! nickname for you, referring of course to his bushy-browed friend, “but I came back to warn tu that tu should get some rest before tonight.” Suspicion immediately invaded your glare. “Now, I must be off.” Before tu could respond, he seized a lock of your hair and tugged tu into a parting kiss, winking as he pulled away. “Adieu!”
“Bye,” tu murmured as he reached the door. For reasons unknown, tu added, “I amor you.”
Francis paused at the door, golden locks fanning over his shoulder as he turned to blow tu another kiss, “Je t'aime, ma chèrie; je t'aime.” And just like that, he was gone and tu were alone again. Sighing, tu closed your book, finding that tu were unable to focus. Stupid Frenchman was always flying in when tu least expected him to.
As tu scooped up your teacup, tu felt suddenly tired and lay back down.
Francis’ dodgy warning played through your mind again.
“…you should get some rest before tonight.”
Remaining skeptical, tu leaned your head against the pillow. Maybe some rest wouldn’t be such a bad idea? With all your nightly activities, courtesy of living with Francis, tu didn’t get as much sleep as tu used to. But going to sleep now would only disappoint tu when tu awoke; tu loathed waking up without Francis beside you.
Your mind skidded to a halt.
That thought did not just pass through your mind.
Blushing in frustration, tu slammed your eyes shut. tu definitely needed más sleep. Mind drifting, tu were grateful when sleep claimed you, hoping that your memory would be erased for a couple hours. Dreams eased your former irritation, though tu tossed and turned, subconsciously seeking the warmth that was Francis. How tu had fallen so deeply in amor with him, tu really didn’t want to know.
It was hours before tu regained consciousness.
“Mmm,” your eyes meshed as gentle exhales fluttered against your cheek, “kiss me, Francis…”
Warm lips were suddenly against yours and tu groggily opened your eyes only to be smothered por darkness. Confused, tu pushed at the chest on parte superior, arriba of yours, but were alleviated when tu heard his gentle voice: “Hush, it is only me, ma amour.” besar tu más passionately as tu calmed, Francis claimed tu with his lips, hands tracing your prone body, hips moving against yours.
When he pulled away, tu reached up to tangle your fingers in his wavy locks.
“I missed you,” Francis smiled, besar you. “Now, tu are ready, oui?”
“R-ready?” Your eyelids fluttered, entranced por the Frenchman’s spell. “For what, love?”
“Why, to say yes in my language,” Francis chuckled, “the language of l’amour.”
Pursing your lips, tu sat up as Francis removed himself from the sofá and lit a candle. The room smelled heavenly. As tu glanced towards him, tu noticed that rose petals embellished the floor. When your gaze found Francis again, however, he was kneeling and presenting a little red box to you. With amor reflected in his beautiful pools of blue, he sighed.
Francis met your eyes. “Though I may flirt with far más creatures than I should,” tu grimaced, “and though there are times that I may smother tu to the point where tu lose your adorable temper, I want tu to know that je vous adore.” He stared sincerely into your eyes as he flipped open the box, smile overwhelmingly beautiful. “L’amour that I possess for tu belongs only to tu and I want your amour to be mine and mine alone, so…” He leaned adelante, hacia adelante to kiss you. “…marry me?”
Choked up, being quite the romantic behind your tough front, tu started to shake.
How could tu stop yourself from crying?
Hand curling as tu rubbed your eyes, tu whimpered, “I l-love you, y-you stupid git. So,” your voice was thick as tu tried to form words in English, but since tu couldn’t, settled for maligning the Frenchman’s language instead, “o-oui, Francis.” Before tu could wipe the tears from your eyes, Francis was upon tu and besar your lips so feverishly that tu swore you’d never been happier.
“You ‘ave made me so ‘appy!” Even Francis’ words were overwhelmed. “Embrasse-moi, ma amour!”
Heeding his request, tu kissed him. Sweeping tu up from the sofá and into his arms, he carried tu up the stairs into the bedroom, never breaking the kiss. Tumbling onto the cama between sheets and más rose petals, the soft smell of linen lulled your lips into a hum as Francis’ mouth met yours. All things considered, he was the best thing that ever happened to you. Though, as Francis’ hands started wandering, as they would, an amusing thought entered your mind.
Smiling, tu pulled away; tu just had to make at least one cynical remark.
“So, will we refer to tu o me as Madame Bonnefoy?”
Francis rolled his eyes, chuckling as he shushed tu accordingly with a kiss. “I’m about to prove that the male one here is moi, Madame.” tu laughed into the kiss, knowing full-well that this was exactly what tu wanted. Hey, for a Frog, he really wasn’t that bad—but tu kept that comentario to yourself.
