Alfred held his breath, feeling water mold around his shape and form.
Finally, it became too much, and he pushed up.
"What are you doing?" The voice accompanied a crinkled in surprise and possible distate nose and brilliant, red eyes that gleamed on a soft initial appearance and attractive face.
"Practicing holding my breath." Alfred finally muttered, turning down his head.
"Why?" Vladimir finally asked, "You're not on the swim team."
"No reason." Alfred's face turned bright pink, and he finally climbed out of the water.
Pearls of water dripped down a masculine chest that was a bit more muscular than one would normally expect of Alfred who seemed to constantly worry about his weight.
Vladimir was unfazed as if he had been here enough times to see him like that to not be surprised by how athletic Alfred actually was.
"Why are you here?" Alfred finally chose to ask.
"Elizabeta asked me to be here." Vladimir frowned at the thought.
"For what?" Alfred asked as he brushed his hair out of his face.
"I don't know." Vladimir shrugged as if the thought didn't really concern him that much.
"Shouldn't you worry about that?" Alfred knew not how Vladimir and Elizabeta's relationship worked when it seemed like most of the time they couldn't stand each other.
"No, she'll tell me soon enough." Vladimir seemed to let any doubts or worry disappear like the water dripping on to the floor.
Alfred seemed to have forgotten about that strange encounter at the pool as he carried about with his day.
Like Vladimir had said, Alfred was not on the swim team though Alfred had his own reasons for practicing holding his breath; he wanted to kiss Francis for the proper length of a kiss.
He wanted his first kiss with his true love to be perfect, and this was the only way that he knew how to prepare for it despite how dorky it sounded.
"Bonjour. Alfred?" That French accent haunted his dreams and sent his heart all a flutter.
It took Alfred a second to realize that this was indeed not a dream and that Francis was speaking to him.
"Yeah?" Alfred asked, realizing that his voice lacked the eloquence of Francis's.
"Je t'aime." Francis moved closer as if to keep their conversation private and to themselves.
Alfred's French may be rusty, but he at least knew what that meant.
He leaned closer with eager nerves as he saw Francis lean closer.
The kiss was as perfect as Alfred had dreamed it would be.
His heart melted as he wrapped his arms around the back of Francis's neck as his body began to melt in to the kiss.
"'Love you, too." Alfred's mumble was thankfully not lost in the nonexistent wind; it managed to be quiet enough just for them to hear.
The two of them were happy here and now when finally it was known that their feelings were requited and that they were here to stay together right where Alfred's practice was despite the fact that neither of them were dressed for the part.
Alfred and Francis could ignore the cheers and whistles that appeared to be directed their way by the swim team and the crowd that had came to watch the swim team and lend their support.
The American teen laughed lightly against the French teen; their joy refused to be masked or hidden in this moment though it clearly had no reason to be masked or hidden.