Okay so I posted this story on my Wattpad and I can't believe I still haven't posted it on here. So here you guys go in case you already haven't read it.
Summary: Everyone makes promises but only a select few will really do anything and everything to keep it. But the question is, how far will that person go?
...
Chapter 1 - Shattered Peace
It was a usual morning for Francois that day or the usual as in what had been the usual for the past year of his life. It was exactly 9 AM and the Frenchman was still lying in bed with no intent of leaving the comfort of the warm bed sheets. He put his free arm behind his head in order prop his head on it while his other arm wrapped around the waist of another. Francois looked down at his lover who was currently snuggling close to his bare chest; the Frenchman allowed his lips to form into a smile. His lover was a young British man with short, soft, ginger hair and rosy, blood-splattered freckled cheeks. His now closed eyes were bright icy sapphires, outlined with delicate long eyelashes and his pouted pink lips formed the most brightest of gentle smiles. During the course of these few months, Francois had grown affectionate for the Brit but he would never admit this out loud. The truth was that these past several months had been among the best for the Frenchman and it was all due to the strangest of situations that the two had gotten themselves into.
~Flashback~
"Stupid bitch." Francois muttered as he lit a cigarette. He looked down at blonde girl who he had just stabbed and was now lying on the ground with a pool of blood next to her. "They always want it the hard way."
Francois hadn't paid his monthly rent again and had gone to talk to the landlady in hopes to work out some arrangement. Obviously it didn't end well.
"All I wanted was one more week but no, you had to complicate things and bitch about how I haven't paid in over five months. Bullshit." Francois ranted as he let out a puff of smoke. "But that guy Alfred who lives on the floor above me never pays shit but yet you still let him live here just because he does you special 'favors'. Or at least did. Oh well at least I did him the favor of getting rid of another whore for him."
Francois sat down on the desk and looked out the window.
"It won't be long before the police find out about you. Damn it just one more problem for me, just my fucking luck. When am I going to get something good in my damn-"
"Mrs. Alice I wanted to-"
Francois turned towards the door as he heard another voice entered the room; it was then when he saw Oliver for the very first time. The Brit stopped at mid-sentence as soon as his eyes met with lifeless, bloody, body. He stayed silent.
The Frenchman gave the British man a cold glare and then slowly stood up. He finished his cigarette then threw it out the window before walking towards the Brit. He reached into his pocket for his long, sharp, knife.
"I'm afraid Mrs. Alice will no longer be available. Now go home unless you want trouble."
Yet the Brit had a very different expression from the one Francois expected. It was neither filled with neither terror nor fear but rather awe. His lips turned into a soft smile and his blue eyes turned teary.
"...You..."
Francois looked at him with an indifferent look.
"What?"
"At last I found you Francis...I can't believe it!" He ran towards Francois and threw his arms pulling the Frenchman into a tight hug.
Francois stared at the ginger head dumbfounded by his actions. How was he not afraid of him? What was he even talking about? And most importantly who the hell was Francis?
"What the hell are you talking about?! Is this a fucking joke?!" Francois said as he roughly pushed away the Brit. "Do you see this? This is a fucking murder weapon that I can easily use against you! Do you understand?"
The Brit stayed silent then looked down and giggled.
"Silly me! I suppose you don't remember just yet..." The Brit looked up and smiled. "I understand you're threatening me but I know you won't hurt me dear."
"Oh really?" Francois then grabbed him by his collar and pressed him against the wall, putting the knife at his throat. "What makes you so damn sure that I won't?"
"Well one you wouldn't want to commit two crimes in a row now would you? Because if you would that would be twice the evidence against you and twice the years you'll spend in prison."
Francois chuckled.
"I never get caught."
"And what makes you so sure dear? There's no such thing as the perfect crime you know."
"Tch I don't need your-"
Suddenly red and blue lights flashed and the sound of distant sirens was heard.
"Shit. They are coming!" Francois was about to run out when he stopped realizing something. He turned back and grabbed the Brit forcefully pulling him as he ran out the building. "You're coming with me. The last thing I need is a witness at the scene ready to rat me out."
"But I wouldn't have given you out Francis."
"Bullshit. And my name is not Francis."
"Oh right...then what is it dear?"
"Like hell I would tell you."
"If you tell me yours, I'll tell you mine!"
Francois stopped as he peered around the corner of the wall to see if anyone was in the streets.
"And why the hell would I want to know that?"
"Well in case I tell anyone, which I won't, you can track me down."
Francois looked at him and pondered for a moment.
"It's Francois. Now come on I hear the sirens getting closer and we need to get to my apartment before they get here!"
"Francois...that's a nice name. My name is..." He took in a deep breath before continuing then answered. "My name is Oliver!"
Finally after sneaking around corners and alleyways, they finally reached the apartment. Francois closed the door then locked it.
"Wow you have a really nice apartment Francois."
"Shut up idiot! This is no time for bullshit! I just committed a damn murder and you're completely calm about it?! What the hell is wrong with you?!"
"First off you need to stop using such ugly language! Secondly didn't you say you never get caught? Why are you no longer so confident?"
"Shut up! The only reason I'm stressing out it's because of you! As long as you're a living witness I won't be calm!"
"So you plan to kill me dear? You know you can't solve all your problems by simply just stabbing them."
"And that's another thing! Don't call me dear or any other stupid pet name! I'm damn murderer!"
"Then what shall I call you dear?"
"Ugh! I knew I should have just killed you when I had that chance..."
"I thought we had already agreed that was a bad idea."
"Tch..." Francois gave a menacing stare at Oliver then stood in front of him, towering over him. "Then what do you suggest I do with you huh?!"
"Well" Oliver slowly contemplated. "You could keep me here and not let me go. It would be the best way to keep an eye on what I do!"
Francois gave the British man a confused look. The more the Briton spoke, the less his words made sense.
"You are the strangest person I know. Who the hell suggests such a ridiculous thing as that to a damn killer?!"
The Briton giggled.
"I suppose I do."
Francois pondered on the suggestion however.
"Hmm...if I keep you here...then that means you have to do what I tell you then..."
"Well it is your home..."
"Maybe the whole idea isn't as ridiculous as I originally thought. In fact it would be rather helpful. It would be the like having a personal servant but without actually paying them..." Francois smirked and looked at the ginger head. "Tell me can you cook?"
"Oh um yes I can! In fact I love to cook!"
"Do you have any relatives or close acquaintances who would actually question if you just simply vanished...?"
The Briton stayed quiet.
"...None at all."
"Hmm..." The Frenchman looked at the Briton as he finally made up his mind. "Very well then I'll take your deal. Starting from today you are not allowed to leave my apartment unless I tell you otherwise. You will do what I say without question or else you'll end up as lifeless as that stupid bitch."
"Okay then. But you should really work on using such dreadful words."
"Get used to it. This is my house and what I say goes."
"Hmmph. I still think otherwise dear."
~End of Flashbacks~
For the first few days, Francois would not interact with his new guest and would only speak to him if necessary. The first impression of Oliver to Francois was simply another burden for him to bear; just another bother in his life. Yet chore after chore, the Briton would kindly smile and do the task at hand in the happiest of manners with no resistance whatsoever. If anything, the only bother that the British man provided Francois was friendly company. Eventually as the days passed, the two began to know each other little by little, learning every flaw and quirk about one another. Oliver began to adore the harsh scowls and empty stares of the Frenchman while Francois became mesmerized by the gentle smiles and the longing loving looks. It was then when finally, despite their differences, they both grew fond of one another. Yet there was no established relationship; the reality was it seemed to be one-side on Oliver's part. This was mainly the fault of a certain Frenchman who was too stubborn to admit his affection for Oliver. The truth was, Francois had no experience with love or even knew what the word actually meant. To him, love was as foreign as the bottom of the ocean.
Oliver began to stir and slowly opened his eyes. Immediately the Frenchman replaced his smile with the usual frown he often wore and looked down to meet a bright pair of innocent eyes.
"Good morning love..." Oliver said smiling, rubbing one eye. "Did you sleep well?"
"Oui. I did."
"That's good to hear dear..." The ginger head murmured as he snuggled closer into Francoise's chest. "I like being like this. I never want to get up."
"Neither do I..." Francois felt the ends of his mouth twitch into a smile. He then cleared his throat realizing he was getting rather too comfortable. "But we have to get up and I'm hungry."
"Oh Francois! Always thinking about your stomach!" Oliver giggled then with his finger drew imaginary circles on the Frenchman's chest. "What would you like for breakfast today dear?"
"Whatever you feel like making. I'm not feeling particularly picky today."
"Very well love."
Oliver slowly sat up, cringing as he felt the pain from his lower half. He looked over at Francois with slightly tinted pink cheeks and bashfully pulled the covers closer to his chest.
"...Could you please be less rough next time...?"
Francois chuckled.
"Non. This is my home remember? Which means that can I do as I like."
"I knew you were going to say that..." Oliver pouted..
He sat at the end of the bed and slowly stood up, supporting himself with the bed. He felt his knees weak and his legs wobbly but eventually he was able to stand up by himself. Once he was able to stand on his two own feet he then grabbed his clothes that were scattered on the floor and began to dress himself. As the Brit began dress, Francois could not help but watch him clothe his bruised body. Oliver noticed this and began to change more quickly, bashfully looking down on the ground causing the Frenchman to chuckle.
"...Breakfast will be ready soon love." Oliver said with a timid smile as he looked over at Francois one more time before walking out of the bedroom.
Francois sighed and reluctantly got up from his bed. This was his least favorite part of the day: getting up from bed. But then again who does enjoy that? Francois didn't bother dressing himself and instead grabbed a robe to put on. The Frenchman walked into the bathroom and turned on the faucet then splashed his sleepy face with cold water. As he looked up he came face to face with his own dark reflection. Francoise had steel, dull stare, outlined by dark circles caused by a lifetime of sleep deprivation. His pale, stoic face, which always seemed to hold a somber expression, was framed by long blond locks. The robe he wore was slightly opened, teasingly showing his lean, yet toned figure.
"Terrible as always Francois." He muttered at the mirror then grabbed the ribbon lying next to the sink and used it to tie back his messy locks. "How the hell he stands to be with someone like you I'll never understand."
The Frenchman sighed and looked down.
Ever since that damn Brit came in my life, things have been different. Not the bad different but that good kind.
Francois shut his eyes and took a deep breath.
What the hell am I doing with my life?! I need to stop. I know that this can't last forever no matter how much I want it to...
He let out a sigh and walked towards the bath, hoping that a cold shower would help him clear his mind.
...
After breakfast the two went on with their usual routines which meant Oliver was busying himself with the large pile of dirty dishes while Francois was sitting on his leather throne watching television. Finally, once Oliver had finished, he walked over towards the Frenchman.
"I finished washing the dishes dear." The Briton smiled sweetly. "Is there anything else you want me to do?"
"Non." Francois looked up. "Actually I was waiting for you to finish. Get your coat; we are going out."
"Oh really?" Oliver said excitedly. It had been a while since the last time he had left the apartment. Not to mention the extreme rarity of joining Francois with his trips to the outside was an exciting idea all on its own. "Where are we going?"
"Just to the market across town to run some errands. Nothing special."
"Alright dear. I'll go get ready!" Oliver said as he made his way towards the bedroom to get his things.
Francois let out sigh and stood up, walking over to the window to look out into the city. The truth was he didn't just want to go out to do errands but rather escape the stress of his problems and maybe at last solve part of his worries.
It won't be long before all of my problems finally catch up to me. Francois thought he watch the city being showered with gentle rain. I should have known this happiness wouldn't last but it was great while it lasted.
Francois smiled remembering all the wonderful moments he had spent with his beloved Oliver. He remembered every dessert he'd ever made for the Frenchman, every act of kindness and affection, every sweet smile, and every passionate kiss they had ever shared.
If only it had lasted a bit longer then maybe I wouldn't be as bitter. He closed his eyes wanting to keep in any emotion from spilling out. At least Oliver will finally be free. He'll finally get to go back to his normal life instead of staying here in this hellhole.
"I'm ready love!" Oliver chirped snapping Francois out of his thoughts. "Oh my! It's really raining hard out there. Maybe we should just stay inside instead-"
"No." Francois turned towards the Brit and gave him a serious look. "We need to go right now. It's really important what I have to go get..."
"Alright love." The Brit said with a tender smile. "If you say we need to go right now then we'll go right now."
"I'll just go get an umbrella..."
Francois headed to the closet and opened it. He immediately spotted the umbrella but yet his eyes continued to scan the closet. Finally his eyes stopped searching as soon as they came across a loaded handgun that was cleverly hidden behind stacked up boxes. He reached for it carefully trying his best not to make a sound.
I don't want to take it but if something happensI need to be prepared.
He grabbed it and hid it in one of the inside pockets of his coat then took the umbrella before leaving the closet.
"Alright let's go Oliver."
...
As the pair made their way to the store under the shelter of the umbrella, they had come to realize how awfully quiet the usually busy streets were. Instead of the sound of chitter chatter and busy honking traffic the only sounds heard was the pitter patter of the rain and the sudden swish of a car passing by.
"So," Oliver said finally breaking the thick silence. "What is it that you need to get poppet?"
"Just some things." Francois answered rather quickly.
"Oh." Oliver said sounding completely unsatisfied by Francois's vague response. "Alright..."
But why do we need to go all the way across town? It's rather far isn't it? The ginger head quietly thought. Not to mention, most people wouldn't be outside selling in this harsh rain right?
Surprisingly when the duo arrived, they found the street market busy and filled as ever. Most had already set up their tents and shelters, ready to persuade any prominent customer to buy anything and everything they had to offer; business was business even on a rainy day. Oliver looked around with awe at the ever so hardworking, greedy merchants. After being locked up in the small apartment for so long, everything seemed to amaze the Briton.
"I didn't know the market would be so busy on a day like this." Oliver said with an optimistic tone.
"Yeah..." Francois said as he instinctively grabbing the Brit's wrist then led him through the shouting and chattering of the market people. After several twists and turns, Francois stopped and looked at the ginger head.
"I need to go somewhere...alone." Francois said hesitantly. "I need for you to...wait here for me."
"Oh. Can't I just go with you-"
"No!" Francois said raising his voice to cause delicate Oliver to flinch but not enough to catch the rest of the busy crowd's attention. The French blonde sighed and ran his fingers through his hair then spoke with a more gentle tone. "No...I need you to wait here for me. I need to do this on my own."
"But" Oliver said looking up with large, pleading eyes. "...You'll be back soon right...?"
"Y-Yes..." Francois answered looking away. "I'll be back before you know it."
"Okay..."
Francois then leaned in and placed his lips softly against Oliver's forehead, as he gave over the umbrella to the Brit.
"I'll be back..." ...one day when everything is much better..."I promise..."
Oliver's cheeks flushed from the suddenly display of affection. He looked up to meet Francois's eyes.
"Okay. I trust you."
Francois let out a long sigh before turning around and walking away. He shut his eyes and tighten his fists.
You're doing this for his good. He'll be happier this way and he won't have to deal with you and your pathetic problems.
Oliver watched him walk away with fearful eyes.
He promised he would be back. Oliver thought, trying to reassure himself as he gripped the umbrella's handle.He would never break a promise.
...
Francois walked grudgingly along the sidewalk. The rain had begun to pour and seemed to hit harder and harder with every passing moment, but not even the harsh rain would stop the Frenchman for he would complete the goal he had in mind.
I need to get home fast and get everything I need before Oliver realizes that I'm gone. He sighed loudly.I also need to hurry...I have to go meet up with him too...
As Francois continued to push through the rain, he stopped and felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand. There was an unnerving feeling in the air; it was as if someone had watching his every movement all along. He took a look around but saw no one in sight; the streets were still as empty as before. Yet the Frenchman was still unconvinced that the streets were as they appeared. He stood still waiting and watching for any little and subtle movement that could occur at any moment. Then it happened.
Bang!
The Frenchman dove down as he took cover behind a large vehicle. Several loud gunshots were fired before Francois had the opportunity to take out his own weapon and fire back. Finally after shooting three times, the Frenchman's opponent stopped. He took a quick peek and saw the man talking on the phone. After a few moments of discussing, the man nodded then quickly ran down the road with a new set of instructions. Francois took this opportunity to shoot while the man was out in the open when he realized it.
Oliver.
Without a second thought he bolted back towards the market. His heartbeat pounded as he heard the distinct sound of gunshots and hysteric screaming. He pushed against the multitude of people running away from the market. The closer he got the more he hoped that would find within the crowd a glimpse of the sweet freckled-face, ginger head but he didn't.
God. Please protect him because if you don't I will make a blood bath from any bastard who dares to hurt him.
...
Oh dear. What's taking Francois so long? It's already been a few minutes and he's not back yet... Oliver thought as he looked at the sellman's items for nth time. Maybe if I walk around a bit time shall fly by faster!
With that thought in mind he began to walk, lingering around at each shop then moving on hoping he'd eventually bump into Francois. Suddenly a loud shriek, followed by several gunshots, caused the whole market place to freeze. Oliver stared in the direction of the shriek and grew pale as his mind was consumed by one thought:Francois. He dropped the umbrellas then was carried off by his feet. However, the small Brit was easily pushed aside by the large panicked crowd but once he regain his balance he became as unstoppable as a bullet.
Oliver sprinted through all the empty aisle, ignoring any shots that were being fired.
"Francois! Francois! Francois!" He yelled out desperately as his eyes became teary. "Fran-"
"-liver! Where are you damn it?!"
Oliver froze then became overwhelmed by an immense feeling of happiness as he turned to see his beloved Francois, standing at the end of the aisle, only a few feet away from him.
"Francois-!"
But he froze again as he saw a gleaming pistol pointed, dead center between Francois's forehead. The rain stood still; the world stopped spinning. The man holding the pistol held a sly smirk as he spoke with slow, cruel words. Oliver felt his heart crack as he caught a glimpse of Francois's defeated eyes.
He can't give up. He can't. He promised-
The man slowly pulled his finger on the trigger as Francois's eyes stared at Oliver's eyes for one final time.
"Oliver." Francois said. "Run and don't look back."
No.
"Oi didn't you hear him ginger? Run before I decide to blow your brains out too."
No.
"It's going to be okay Oliver. I promise."
No. No. No. Why are you lying?!You're not suppose to- No. No-
"NO!" Oliver yelled out enraged with deadly bloodshot eyes.
The man chuckled.
"Having a little tantrum won't help. Neither tears nor screams will make this gun move away." He looked back at the Frenchman. "I'll count to three and by then you'd best have scampered off like a good boy while your friend here takes a very long bloody nap."
But he can't-! He can't do that!
"One..."
He promised. He promised he'd be with me! We're suppose to be together forever!
"Two..."
He promised.
"Thr-"
The man could not and would never finish his word. In an instant flash of silver blade and bloody red passed before Francois's eyes. He continued staring straight ahead, unable to process the quick actions that had just avoided his death from happening. The Frenchman slowly turned his head to see the most shocking sight of his life. His muscles tensed up as he saw the shining, red-dripping dagger gripped by fragile, thin fingers. The corpse was now lying down on the ground deadly still with a deep, bloody slash that appeared to have ripped his throat in half.
Francoise gulped as he dared to look into the violent eyes of the murder. Those gentle sapphire eyes no longer shined with the same happy spirit from before but rather gleamed with a lusting desire of bloody revenge and brutal violence. All the sweetness and innocence had been drained out from this being and was replaced with a darker and more cruel expression. Bright freckles disappeared and mixed in behind the blood droplets that had fallen against his cheeks. This person was not the Oliver Kirkland that Francois had once known from before. It wasn't and it couldn't be. Oliver, the sweet freckled idiot that flinched at any cuss word, was not the same killer who was standing before Francois. No, it couldn't possibly be the same person. This was a stranger posing as Oliver Kirkland; it just had to be a stranger.
Francois opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something but all words escaped his mouth. The Brit said nothing and leaned down to reached for the victim's weapon, holding it with his free hand then held it up towards Francois. The Frenchman paled as fear slowly spread through his expression.
"Oliver." He said calmly as he raised his hands. "I-"
"Get down." Oliver ordered in an unusual cold, monotonous voice that had been drained of any existing sugary sweetness of the previous Brit.
"Wait Oliver-!"
He went down then heard another loud gunshot followed by loud yell and a sharp slashing blade. Francois turned quick enough to see another victim meet his bitter end. Oliver moved quickly, stabbing violently at anyone who dared to come close. The market soon became painted with splattered red and deathly silence. Soon enough the men who had been pursuing Francois fled quickly; there were five men dead at the scene. Francois stared in horror at the slaughtered house the market place had become. But it was not the gore that shocked him but the person had committed this crime. He looked up at the murder who was still furiously slashing at one of the men on the ground yelling incomprehensible words that sounded almost like "Die! Die! Die!"
Once the Brit was satisfied he dropped one of his weapons and looked back at the Frenchman who was still crouched down, endlessly staring.
This can't be Oliver. He wouldn't. He can't. He's an innocent idiot who just loves to bake and do sweet things for people. He can't be a damn-
Oliver slowly began to approach the blonde, still having a tight grip on the dagger then stopped right in front of Francois. Francois tensed up as he dared to look at the blood lusting, merciless eyes. It seemed that at any moment that blade would come down but it never did.
Instead the Brit knelled down, dropping the knife as he wrapped his arms around the Frenchman's neck.
"Francois!" He wailed as he tears began to roll down his freckled cheeks.
Francois stood still unable to react to the situation.
"I'm sorry! I just-" Oliver sniffled, burying his face onto the nape of the other. "A-Are you okay...?"
"I...I"
What do I say?
"Oliver...I'm fine." Francois finally said after a long time. He draped his arm carefully around the small ginger head. "Are you okay...?" He cautiously asked.
"I -I was scared! I thought that bad man was going to-! I had to stop him! I couldn't let him break the promise-!"
Promise...?
Francois let out a soft sigh.
"Shh it's okay. I forgive you..."
I knew Oliver wasn't a cold blooded killer. He was scared and just wanted to help. It was probably all the damn stress that must have caused him to act like that. Definitely. He wouldn't kill for...pleasure.
"I'm happy." Oliver whispered. He raised his head, allowing Francois to see his face. It was stained with blood and tears along with the raindrops that slowly washed the blood away. His eyelids were half closed but showed a glimpse of the bright, shining sapphires once again but held an odd glint of violent rage. His soft lips curved into a gentle cruel smile that showed a tremendous amount of eerie satisfaction.
"Those bad men won't hurt you anymore. I'm glad they're all gone."
Francois shivered at the overly sweet, sugary voice; it sounded unusual and very cruel. The Brit moved a hand then gently stroked the Frenchman's cheek with it.
"Erm Oliver-" The blonde said, uncomfortably shifting in his spot. Suddenly his face grew hot as the Briton moved in closer.
"I'm glad you're mine..." He muttered before surprising Francois with a sweet, sickly kiss. The Frenchman stared with wide open eyes. This new side to Oliver amazed him that it completely frighten him but he did not realize this it yet. He became lost in a thousand thoughts.
The rain stopped.
Oliver slowly pulled away bashfully.
"W-We I think we should leave..." He said quietly.
The sound of sirens brought Francois back to reality.
"Shit. Get up we have to start running."
As the sky began to clear up, it shattered any remaining peace that still existed in this harsh and cruel world.
...
Well I hope you've enjoyed this story. Please review/vote this story if you liked or just comment. Also feel free to correct on any possible mistakes I might have left.
High key think this story is better than my last 2P FrUK fic so ye~
- Aoi