Danger at My Door
"Angleterre! Can't you just open the door? S'il vous plaît ma chérie?"
His insistent knocking was enough to make my head explode. Bloody git can't seem to understand the meaning of no, I suppose.
To be honest I would rather him be inside than huddled on my porch like a lost dog. Then again my sanity was quite fine as it was.
"How can you be so cruel, Angleterre?"
"For heaven's sake you frog, quit making a scene!" I huffed, almost instantly flinging the door wide open, allowing both the frigid air and his now rather pleased self through the door. I refused to even look him in the eye nonetheless react to his presence.
"Why would you travel this far in weather like this?" My voice was balancing between annoyance and worry as I settled back into my chair. Without a doubt I sensed him looming near me.
"My house! My house has lost power," the Frenchman dramatized, his eyes searching to meet mine as he spoke.
As always my eyes seemed to flawlessly roll. Francis was surely capable of making his way to that Latino's house next door to his. Antonio's was definitely a closer walk than his. What could the frog be planning this time?
My eyes scanned the room at last to find my house quest promptly seated across from me. His fancy rump was defiling my new furniture, though clothed. Who knew where that man's clothes have been tossed in the past. God only knows.
"And with this snow storm you still found the strength to come all this way to my house?"
I made sure to put as much emphasis on that as I possibly could. The fool sometimes took it upon himself to make himself at home. It was in good nature to make sure things were clear at times. Especially to someone as forceful as Francis.
"Well, pour votre information, perhaps you were the only one….to let me inside."
For the first time in long time I heard a bit of faltering in his tone. However, this quickly subsided as I furrowed my brows. The sex fiend was now comfortably rested on my lap. Straddling would be a better word for this matter.
"And what do you think you're doing, frog? I'm not about to let you induct me into your bloody Trio-"
His perfectly shaped lips conformed against mine without warning. As swift as it started, it ended just as rapidly. A soft breath escaped my mouth as I stared into those maniacal eyes of his. Those baby blues that melted me each time I'd gaze at them.
"Your teasing isn't as funny as you think it is, you nitwit."
As I eased into a pout he merely chuckled and tangled his arms around my frame. Seconds felt like decades as he held me there silently. Nothing about this man was loveable, right? No. He was purely a bully; nevertheless I've continued to allow him into my abode time after time.
"Angleterre..." his voice reverberated in my ear, sending chills through me. This man was a bully, no doubt about it.
"Frog."
If you could look close enough you could see the faint blush that stained my cheeks. In time I ended up draping my arms around his neck. "I should have assumed you'd just want me for this."
After all, our combined body heat kept us content. Those smooth fingers ran through my hair as he leaned in once more. This time I was more willing knowing that the Frenchman wasn't about to give up now.
Something about his kisses turned my emotions on and off. I didn't actually mind most of the time.
It was Francis. That damn frog. A genuine bully.
"Je t'aimerai toujours, even when you find it unbearable to be around me", he gushed, planting his infamous butterfly-like smooches against my neck. Not a force in me would push him away. Not that I wanted to, but he would never know that. My pride wouldn't allow it.
I gave a gentle yet heavy sigh.
"Yes….I know."
Translations:
Angleterre: England
S'il vous plaît ma chérie: Please my darling?
Pour votre information: For your information
Je t'aimerai toujours: I'll always love you
