Hello everyone !

So, this is my first fanfiction in English ! I won't ask you to be more indulgent because of that, but on the contrary, if you could point any grammatical or conjugation mistake... By the way, I'm looking for a beta-reader, native in English, who would be willing to help me about any question about everyday life, idioms or language.

Chapters will be longer than the prologue, don't worry. And the storyline won't be as original as my other stories, but I want to improve my English before doing anything too complicated. I hope it won't be too cliché, though... Romance and dramatic stuff won't be the main plot of the story. It will mostly be humour... Well, I'll try. It's hard when it's not your language.

(Pour ceux qui me suivent du fandom français, j'ai voulu essayer d'écrire en anglais, pour changer, et surtout pour m'améliorer, parce que c'est pas joli-joli. Je ne la traduirai pas en français. Donc, si vous parlez pas un mot d'anglais, c'est pas un chef-d'oeuvre d'originalité que vous raterez, et si vous parlez anglais et que vous lisez, c'est cool, et si vous lisez pas, je ne vous en tiendrai pas rigueur. La suite de "Sheol" et "Vacances ?" arrive, au passage. Je vous biche mes biches)

Arthur was late. Late to go back home.

This is possible, even when you live alone and without a cat.

He had to get back home, put his stuff and the groceries somewhere, check his e-mails for work, get changed, went in search of his black tie (and tie it properly), call a taxi and arrive in time at his date, who was in…

Three minutes ago.

Well, it's not like punctuality was is strong point. At least, the same went for his date.

So, Arthur was running in the streets of London's suburbs, bumping into old ladies and kids. He wasn't a gentleman anymore right now. His only goal was going to his date, and not too late if it was possible.

Eventually, he reached his building. He rushed in the upstairs, and climbed to the third story in no time, his cellphone in mouth and searching in vain his keys in his pockets. Fortunately, nobody ever hung out on this landing.

Mmh. Fortunately, nobody ever hung out on this landing. Usually.

But just this time, a teenager was sitting right in front of his door.

"Er… Who the fuck are you ?"

Bad idea. The cellphone was still in his mouth. Now on the floor, and the battery flew in an unknown space.

"Hell…"
"Fail !" the teenager shouted, smiling happily.
"Oh, shut the fuck up ! I don't have time ! And why the hell are you sitting in front of my flat ?" yelled Arthur, searching for his battery.
"Hinhin… 'Flat'…" the teen smirked.
"Kid, get the fuck out of here before I stab you.", Arthur threatened, loosing his patience.
"Okay. So, tell me where I can find 'Arthur Kirkland'."
"I am", said Arthur answered, finally with his battery.

The teenager looked at the man walking to the door, an awful look on his face.

"No you're not."
"Er… Yes I am ? I guess I still know my name, kid. And what do you even want ?"
"No you're not."
"And why the bloody hell wouldn't I be myself ?" asked Arthur while opening the door.
"I don't want you to be."
"Ok, if it's only that… Sorry, kid, but I have things to do. So, goo-"
"Hey, wait !"

The teenager ran into the flat, his big bag on his shoulder. Arthur just looked at him with incomprehension.

"I have to stay with you."
"The hell…?"
"My mother told me so."
"Your mother ?"
"Yes. She told me she was your cousin, or something. I have this letter", said the young blond while giving a crumpled envelope.

Arthur took the letter, knowing that he would regret it later.

Dear Arthur,

It's your favorite American cousin you love so much. It's been a while, isnn't it ? I guess you're still a crappy "freelance journalist", or whatever you call your state of unemployment, and I think I found a way for you to put a bit of butter on the bread~

You're strict and somewhat unfair and rather violent, but you're a good man, Artie, and I know that. You're exactly the kind of person who can help my beloved son… He's such a brat. I mean, he's my sweetie-sweetie treasure, but he's so capricious, impulsive, and self-centered, and a spoilt child like I never seen before ! He has so many problems at school… I think a good British education, given by a true Englishman, would be the best for him. Indeed, you were such a little punk asshole back then, and you straight out to become a perfect gentleman. I want my sweetie-pie to follow your lead. Of course, I will pay you to take care of my honey ! But you'll see, you will ADORE him. He's just so delightful and handsome and smart ! Well, he will be when you will have finished his education.

Anyway, I hope you're okay with that. Because when you read this letter, I will already have dropped him off at the airport and I will have took my plane to the Seychelles. And after that, I'll go in Bali. And in Thailand. And in Lebanon. I have absolutely no idea where the fuck those countries are. But I need you to watch my sweetheart for a few weeks at least.

Take care of him, and be careful, he's allergic to peanuts and he doesn't always brush his teeth.

Love,

Your wonderful cousin.

Arthur sighed. He definitely won't be in time for his date.