He really tried to focus on his task. Really. However, two sets of hands consequently made washing the dishes—an already mundane task, now more so—take much less time. So, Matt reasoned that he couldn't blame himself for his wandering thoughts.
In fact, he realized—looking around the all-but-empty kitchen—this would be the perfect time to ask Elizaveta something that had been eating away at his mind.
"Um, Eliza, may I ask you something?" He started.
"You just did, Matt." She giggled. "Not at all. What did you want to know?"
"I was wondering.... Have Herakles and Sadiq always been so..." He struggled to find a word, "...hostile, with each other?"
His question made the cook pause her scrubbing. She turned to look at him, pondering, and turned back to her work, slowly.
"Well..." She began. "I suppose so. I mean, Sadiq has been here a while longer, so he believes he has superiority—which he technically does—and tends to push Herakles around. Of course, Herakles usually will have none of it." She smirked.
Matthew mused on this, not-so-new, information. It had to be more than that. He'd learned a thing or two about Herakles's and Sadiq's behaviors with each other. If not helping 'Chelles with general work around the manor, Matt was outside preventing catastrophe between the two Mediterranean men.
The sweltering days of South France often resulted in the removal of outer clothing in the garden.
Matthew learned quickly that he could withstand the heat with his shirt on for a while and proceeded to do so as much as he could. Neither of the two full-time gardeners, however, had any qualms against taking off their shirts and did so with much gusto. What they didn't know is that, in all his years of living in his brother's shadow and remaining virtually invisible, Matthew had become quite observant. So, the Turkish gardener was none the wiser as the Canadian picked up on his not-so-subtle stares at the Greek, when said Greek was preoccupied with his job. Or as both the rival gardeners occasionally glanced at one another when each thought the other was not looking (given that they weren't arguing).
Yes, it had to be more, Matthew reflected. He frowned when he finally realized that Elizaveta had stopped handing him dishes to dry. Shaking his head, he dazedly looked at the woman. She giggled in response.
"All done," she said, waggling her pruned fingers. "Are you going to eat lunch with all of us again, Matthew? Sadiq and Herakles promised to join us today as well."
He took a moment to think about her offer and reasoned that he'd be able to observe the two rival gardeners. "Sure," he answered tentatively.
"All right," she smiled again. "And speaking of them: if could you do me a favor, go grab those two sour-pusses outside? I can hear them making a racket again."
"Sure."
As Matthew entered the garden, he could already sense the impending clash and hurried his pace until he was a few feet from the two brunets. He decided to wait a few moments for either (or both) of them to sense his presence. Finally, one did. Turning away from the overbearing man at whom he'd been glaring daggers, Herakles smiled lazily at the young Canadian.
"Hello, Matthew. What brings you outside?"
Matthew scratched the back of his neck with apprehension, under the stares of the two tan men. "Elizaveta asked me to come get you guys. We're all having lunch in the kitchen and...Um…" He trailed off, a little confused as he realized that the two Mediterranean men had not been present at the last lunch gathering.
"Right," The Greek interjected. "We promised Elizaveta we'd be there this time." He muttered something else under his breath, glaring at the Turk, who smirked haughtily.
"Uh, yeah, so--"
"Well, what're we waitin' fer then?" The Turk interrupted loudly. Taking Matt by the shoulder, Sadiq lead the blond inside, leaving his Greek counterpart trailing behind, boring a hole into the back of the older gardener's head.
The dysfunctional trio entered the nearly full kitchen. Matthew laughed nervously, seeing only three adjacent chairs left. Herakles sat down quickly next to Tino and pulled Matt into the seat on his other side, allowing Sadiq to take the last free chair, next to 'Chelles.
Elizaveta smiled brightly at their arrival "Alright, guys..."
Matthew filtered out the voices while chewing thoughtfully on his lunch. He knew he should probably be paying more attention, he was a spy (or something like it) here after all, but he couldn't find it in him to concentrate on the gossip.
They were always different colors, and Lars told him that when he was a kid he studied "the language of flowers" (his mom was a gardener and his father had learned that by giving her flowers of different meanings of different meanings he could almost always put her in a good mood).
Matthew shot glances at the two brunets he was seated next to. Well, at least they hadn't broken out into a fight... yet.
I wonder if maybe all that glaring Herakles does... is an excuse to stare openly at Sadiq without consequences. Matt flushed slightly at his own thought.
...Why is it suddenly so quiet? Matthew looked up to see many pairs of eyes staring back at him. The most concerning of which were the green eyes that belonged to a dashing Hungarian woman, who quite frankly frightened him sometimes.
"Matthew, why so quiet?" As if on cue, said Hungarian woman asked him the question with a disconcerting look on her pretty face. "And you're blushing; were you aware?" Her smirk made the blond nervous.
"Eh? Oh... it's nothing really..." He stammered, trying to fend off the inquisition before it truly began. "I was just y'know... thinking, eh..."
"Oh, really? Do tell." The cook propped her chin on a calloused hand as though intently focused on the Canadian's next words.
Suddenly, it seemed to Matthew as if the entirety of the group had decided to follow their ring leader and give him their undivided attention. Even Herakles and Sadiq had put their rivalry on hiatus to listen in to this conversation.
It was this particular faculty that had Matthew, understandably, most on edge. His eyes swept the table and he dearly wished that he could sink into the floor at that moment.
Clearing his throat, which he found to be suddenly quite dry, he finally spoke: "Um... I... eh..." Or tried to.
"Oh, c'est embarrassant..."
Flushing more, Matthew avoided looking directly and anyone by staring intently at his food. Steeling himself, he looked up again with fleeting determination and excused himself from the table. "Excusez-moi, s'il vous plaît! J'ai fini de manger..."
Hurriedly, he fled to the first place he could think of: the gardens. Sitting down on a bench where he usually took his meals, Matthew heaved a great sigh. Gazing at the blossoms surrounding him, he allowed their calming fragrance wash over him.
"Ah, really?" Matt looked interested, staring down at his beautiful red tulip. "What's a red tulip mean, then?"
Lars cleared his throat. "...Oh! Man, totally slipped my mind. Sorry. Something to do with...happiness or something."i
That's it! He thought. They're both gardeners, right? So, they probably know all the different meanings. Hmm... maybe I should approach one of them about it... Herakles isn't likely to admit to something like that... Unless, of course, my earlier guess was right... He blushed again at what'd happened, and then flushed more as he realized the implications of what he was thinking of doing. Well, maybe I shouldn't interfere... Roderich did say that he doesn't tolerate co-workers' relationships like that with each other... Well, maybe it won't be so bad... I highly doubt either Herakles or Sadiq would jump into a... relationship like that... they're both far too stubborn.
So, Matthew resolved to resolve the Mediterraneans' seemingly-endless conflicts with a simple plan that he just hoped wouldn't fail. S'il vous plaît ne laissez pas cet échec.
"Well, this is convenient..." I'm in a garden.
"What's convenient?" The blond jumped slightly at the abrupt voice and turned to the speaker.
"Herakles! Mon Dieu! You frightened me..."
"I could tell," the Greek replied lazily. "So, what's convenient?"
"Oh... nothing, eh...."
"Well, obviously it's not nothing because you wouldn't have said something's convenient if you were talking about nothing..." Herakles chuckled as he sat down, seeing Matthew's bewildered expression.
"I, uh--"
"--but I won't pester you about it. Nice day, eh?"
"Yeah..."
Silence.
"So, why did you come out here?"
The Greek opened one of his sleepy eyes at the Canadian. "You left so suddenly, so we elected someone to check up on you."
"Oh."
"I volunteered."
"Oh..." Geez, this is awkward.
Matthew almost didn't want to say anything else, Herakles looked so content, but if was gonna reach his objective, he would have to.
"Say, Herakles..."
"Hm?"
"...What do you think of Sadiq?"
The Greek did not answer for a while. Matt winced at the obviously awkward silence that followed his question.
"Eh... if you don't want to answer--"
"No, it's okay. What do I think of that jerk?" A subtle wince from the Canadian. "Well, he's overbearing, arrogant, smug, pushy, bossy, perverted, incorrigible, and basically an all around asshole..." The brunet nodded, as though agreeing with himself.
"But... he's not all that bad..." It was barely noticeable but Matthew caught the hint of red on the Greek's tan face. I knew it. This may work out well after all.
"So!" Matthew said brightly and quickly. "Why'd you become a gardener?"
The Greek looked mildly surprised at the sudden change in subject, but didn't object to it. "Well, I like working in the sun...." A pause. "And I like flowers, y'know. Nature..."
Upon hearing this, Matthew could have smirked in his triumph. He'd figured the Greek to be the harder nut to crack but it seemed he was able to get out enough information to know that his secret objective would not be in vain.
Now, that just leaves which--
"Well..." The brunet next to him, stood up and stretched. "I think I'm gonna get back to work." He smiled down at the Canadian. "See you."
"See you later."
As Herakles strode off, Mathew could hear a faint yell ("Oi! Where the hell've ya been?! Get ta work!") and a scathing reply ("Don't order me around, ass"). For the first time that day, Matt let out a chuckle of amusement.
Wiping sweat from his brow, the tall, tan Mediterranean scowled; that lazy Greek was working especially slowly today and it was really starting to tick him off. Disappearing off for so long and then comes around walking like he owns the world, then has the nerve to call him an ass. The Turk harrumphed. That kid had no right to act the way he did; and yet, it was... amusing. He smirked, his thoughts going to a far-from-innocent place, as they often did.
"The hell 're you smirking at, ανόητε?"
"That's fer me ta know, kid."
"Ch'... κώλος..."
The Turk chuckled, feeling smug. He'd won this time. Business as usual. Sweat dripped over his taught muscles as he stretched languidly and Sadiq slipped off his sweat-soaked T-shirt. That little Greek thought he didn't notice the flushed glance thrown his way. Ohohohoho... What's this, Herakles? Red looks good on you.
"Hey, guys!" An unusually bright Canadian's voice rang out. "Need any help?"
"Yes," the Greek spat, tartly. "He needs a hand weeding. Over there." He pointed into a distant part of the gardens. "Far away from me..." The last sentence a breathy utterance.
He raised an eyebrow. Weeding, huh? I suppose you're trying to get rid of me, benim küçük kedi. Alright, I'll play this game.
"Indeed... weeding," Sadiq purred, looping an arm around the blond's shoulders once more, yet all the while maintaining eye-contact with the Greek, who flushed ever-so-slightly. "Shall we?"
Stupid Turk...Herakles grumbled under his breath as he worked. Stupid me, why am I blushing? He harrumphed. Grr... he pisses me off so much. How the hell does he make a word like weeding sound so... so...
A rustle in the bushes.
"What this?"
There weren't very many weeds in the garden. At least not the part they were working in, but Matthew imagined that with the two competitive gardeners working so often as they did, weeds would never get the chance to flourish.
"Yo, Mehmet, what were ya doin' wit' the Greek earlier?"
"Eh?"
"I mean... ya came around from the same place, 'round the same time..." The Turk raised his eyebrows suggestively.
"EH?! N-no, we were just... y'know... talking..."
"Talkin', huh? 'Bout what?"
"Just things... people... getting to know each other, kind of... I guess..." Matthew laughed nervously.
"Oh, really? 'Nd what did ya get to know?"
Jeez, this guy asks a lot of questions. "Um... just the little things, eh. Like..." Should I tell him? "Why Herakles became a gardener...."
"That so?" The brunet seemed uninterested.
"Yeah..." The blond cleared his throat. "So, Sadiq... why did you become a gardener?"
"Hmm..."
Silence.
Okay, maybe not.
Once again, just as Matt thought he wasn't going to get an answer, the Mediterranean spoke.
"Why not?" He shrugged. "'S a good job... I like it..."
"Uh huh..." Alright, well I didn't expect much anyway...
"--did he?" Sadiq was grumbling something now.
"Excuse me?"
"I said... why did he?"
"I'm sorry, I still don't understand, eh."
The look was almost a glare. Certainly an unimpressed stare. "Why did he become, y'know, a gardener...?" Oh!
"Oh! Um... well, he mentioned that he likes... nature and flowers and working in the sun..." Awkward.
"Right...."
I've never seen him so subdued... Or so quiet... Hmm.... Oh dear, now he's muttering something about flowers.. maybe I should say something?
"Tulips are the national flower of Turkey." Way to go... random cultural trivia. Honestly, where did that come from? And duh, he already knows that. He's from Turkey.
An amused chuckle was his reply. "This is true." The Turk was back to normal. "Where'd ya learn that?"
"...eh, I don't... really.. know, heh..." Since when did flowers become an awkward topic? "Oh, hey!" Matthew giggled nervously at the blossoms in front of him. "Tulips... would you imagine that...?"
"Yeah... I know. I planted 'em.... Oi! What'ya doin'?"
Matt picked one of the red flowers.
"Here," he said, passing the tulip to the brunet. Said brunet stared at him with bulging eyes as though the Canadian had grown tentacles.
"Mon cher, giving someone a red tulip is a declaration of love."
Matthew flushed. "I-I mean, it's not for you... well, it is but not... I mean! Mon Dieu! Okay, um.. how to put this..." The blond decided to bite the bullet. "You..." He forced the tulip in the other's hands. "...are going to give Herakles... that." He pointed at the vibrant flora.
"What're you insane?" Sadiq outright laughed. "You sure you're right in th' head, boy?"
The glare-and-pout (though he wouldn't admit that he was pouting) combination was much less intimidating than Matthew would have liked. "I'm serious."
Sadiq finally calmed his guffaws down to a few low chuckles until they ceased altogether. And, clearing his throat, he said: "Well... I dunno what's gotten int' yer blond, Canadian head but... I mean, that I would give... do you even know what it means to give someone a red tulip?"
Matt leveled a stare at him. "Of course," he replied, in a uncharacteristically sharp tone of voice.
Raised eyebrows in response.
"But, I thought it'd make sense.. considering that you, y'know, feel like that about him, eh."
"And what do you know about me 'n' Herakles?"
"Erm... W-well..." Merde. I didn't expect this kind of interrogation. "I just n-noticed..." He trailed, blushing, and couldn't really find the words to justify. Apparently, this was enough for Sadiq, who seemed to take pity on the boy.
"Whatever... So what if I like the kid?" He scratched his neck, annoyed and discomforted for admitting his such a thing.
"S-so, you'll give it to him?"
"Why should I? He knows what it means..."
What? He's insecure...? Matthew giggled softly at the thought. He's really insecure. He doesn't want to be rejected or ridiculed so... h'm, he won't do it if he's insecure...
"Hello, kitty."
Herakles, having grown up in Greece, was used to stray cats roaming around everywhere. And while not many got past security here, cats were sneaky creatures and so he was glad to see one of his friends around. He quite liked cats.
He knelt to pet the feline, smiling as he did so. Cats were beautiful creatures; agile, crafty, sensual, lovable, confident. This stray was a shining silver-gray with bold brown eyes.
"What d'you have there, μικρή γάτα?"
"A... cat?"
Both blond and brunet looked down to see an apparently quite friendly cat weaving through the Canadian's legs, mewling like a kitten.
"Hey, kitty..." Matthew crouched down to the animal's level. The cat simply sat in front of him, as if waiting for a cue. The Canadian pondered this and got an idea. A crazy idea. But maybe it would work. Animals were smart like that.
So, carefully he plucked the flower out of the Turk's gloved hands and knelt back down to, heaven forbid, talk to a cat.
"Hey, kitty. Do you know Herakles?"
"A tulip? What're you doing with one of these?"
The feline meowed a response that not even Herakles could understand and gave the Greek what seemed to be an expectant look.
"What do you want?" The cat stared, then paced a few yards away turned and sat, waiting. Herakles took the hint, or what he thought the cat wanted, and followed. I can't believe I'm following a cat. Oh well. The gray feline stopped again. Herakles followed suit. Then, suddenly and without looking back at the human, the cat leapt through the bushes. The Greek wasn't sure whether or not to follow this time. Call it an instinct. But, then got his answer when he heard a voice.
"Shit! Stupid cat!"
Herakles quirked a brow. Sadiq?
"Um...." As soon as the uncharacteristic utterance left his mouth, the Greek found that he had caught the other's attention.
"Well, shit... I guess I got some explainin' ta do..."
Herakles's eyes widened slightly and once more felt blood rush to paint his face red. He avoided eye contact. "So, this..." He motioned with the flower in his hands. "...is... from you?"
"Well, yeah. Ya think th' stupid cat's giving ya a flower that means lo--?" Eyes darted to the side.
"Ch'... Stupid... you should've just said something..." He wouldn't admit that he actually found the trick with the cat entirely endearing.
His long legs carried him quickly over the few feet to the other brunet. A self-confident leer found its way back onto the Turk's visage.
"Just shut up," the Greek spat quickly.
"Well, alright. Since you asked so nicely," the Turk purred in reply and leaned forward to catch the leaner brunet in an embrace.
Herakles vehemently denies that he leaned forward, in equal anticipation, or wrapped his arms up over the Turk's shoulders during the kiss.
The Hungarian watched the two men outside with girlish delight. The Canadian boy had hurried into the mansion flushed but smiling triumphantly, and she just had to find out what was going on. To her glee, she found the two gardeners outside, not arguing--not gardening--but something else entirely. After taking a few pictures with the small camera she kept hidden in her apron pocket, she debated whether or not to break up such a lovely scene. Roderich would not approve. Especially if he found out that she had seen something and not done something about it.
"Hey, guys!"
The two Mediterranean men broke apart as though an electric shock had racked their bodies.
She hurried towards them, smirking impishly. "Don't pretend like you weren't doing anything, 'cause I have proof... Okay, well, I know Roderich wouldn't approve so... just don't get caught!" She giggled and rushed back into the house—presumably to find her best friend and leave the two to continue their activities.
Matthew continued his own duties inside the mansion, smiling all the while.
Translations (sorry if any of these are off grammatically/etc., I just used a translator :/ Since they were really simple sentences)
French - Oh, c'est embarrassant... - Oh, this is embarrassing
French - Excusez-moi, s'il vous plaît! J'ai fini de manger... - Excuse me, please! I'm finished eating....
French - S'il vous plaît ne laissez pas cet échec - Please, don't let this fail
French - Mon Dieu! - My God!
Greek - ανόητε- stupid
Greek - κόπανε - jerk
Turkish - benim küçük kedi - my little cat
Turkish - Mehmet - rough Turkish equivalent of the name 'Matthew'
French - Mon cher - My dear
French - Merde - Shit (curse word)
Greek - μικρή γατούλα- little cat
Thank you to mooglestookmyheart for the corrections in Greek!
If there are any other mistakes that someone who speaks/knows one of these languages sees, I'd be grateful if you would let me know!