My twist on this beautiful romance is that Lacombrade has become a school for both boys and girls. It's basically the same story line, except Gilbert is the new kid. He's still the prostitute we all know and love, though! I think I'll have most of these chapters in Serge's POV, since he is the first to meet this mysterious blonde. Hope you guys like it!
Warning: Maybe somewhat out of context (OOC), and is Rated T for violence, yaoi/gay actions, language, and maybe some lemon or lime later on if the two behave themselves!
Gilbert: Okay, so we did it all through Lost and Found. At least we just kissed so far in the sequel Missing Link!
Me: You better watch what you reveal, Gilbert. I will call in the girls!
Serge: C'mon Marley, give him a break for once!
Me: *sighs heavily* Alright, we'll see.
Gilbert: Did you seriously give up when Serge asked you? You are so in love with him!
Me: *growls softly* Shut the *censored word* up, Gilbert! Don't continue our little conversations from SergexGilbert Music here! It's already bad enough Mallory is still calculating how many times I've cursed off stage!
Gilbert: Whatever, now let's stop stalling and finally get the freaking story!
Chapter 1: New Kid
(Serge's POV)
Here I am, walking down these halls alone. I have friends, but I feel like being alone at times. This is part of my everyday routine at Lacombrade Academy, which has become available for girls now; this was once an all-boys boarding school. As the son of a nobleman, I am a suitable candidate for many girls my age, but I haven't found the one yet...
"Attention students," the teacher Professor Watts silenced our chatter in the classroom. "We have a new student today. His name is Gilbert Cocteau and is the nephew of Auguste Beau, the famous artist. According to him he does not want to be spoken to at the moment, so do not bother him."
He motioned for a boy about my age to enter the room. He had short golden locks, green eyes that shine like emeralds, and skin as pale as the snow. Through his expression she seemed nervous, scared, and most of all suffering. Almost like he were in some torture device like they used to back then. What startled me was how he looked like a girl in a way. Whispers spread throughout the room, both boys and girls.
"Man, is she a beauty!" quietly exclaimed one boy. One of his friends told him Gilbert was a boy, to which he blushed and turned away.
"I wonder why we can't speak to him," said a girl. "He is such a cutie!" Her friend agreed with her.
Gilbert walked to the seats and took one next to me; I have almost forgotten there was an empty seat right there. It was fascinating to watch him move elegantly up close, to see him write in the most beautiful handwriting, to simply observe him as if gazing upon an exotic creature. Now I know he is left-handed.
"I can't spend the rest of the day staying silent," he sighed; I wonder who he was talking to. Himself, maybe. Gilbert tapped my shoulder and held out a hand. "I'm Gilbert, and I will be staying in Room 17 of the B Building," he introduced himself. I held out my own hand and shook his.
"I'm Serge Battour," I said, "and I look forward to rooming with you. You see, I live in that dorm."
He blinked his eyes, which made them hard to not stare at. "So you must be my new roommate. The student superintendent Aryon Rosemarine found out there was no more rooms available, and that only your room is vacant. He told me that you would of course understand."
Rosemarine, the White Prince, yes there is no reason to argue then. He is very strict and leaves an intense feeling in the room wherever he roams. Gilbert's voice snapped me out of my daydream.
"Anyways, you better not be a troublemaker because I plan on not ruining my first day!" He was smiling and held a hand to his mouth so he wouldn't make people stare. The sleeve of his black jacket- boys wear black dress jackets, trousers, blue sweater vests, long-sleeved white dress shirts, red ties, and dress shoes while girls wear black vests over white dress shirts, bright red jackets, black skirts, white knee-socks, black dress shoes, and black ribbon ties- drooped a bit, as did his dress shirt, revealing a piece of his skin. Upon the snowy skin lay a giant red slash mark.
"Gilbert, your arm," I whispered and reached out to examine it closer. With a ruler he smacked my hand away, a cold stare penetrating me. I was startled; just moments before he was acting so warm.
"Don't you dare touch me!" he hissed, and returned to working in his math journal. Gilbert Cocteau, there is a mystery behind those eyes of green, and it must lie beneath the mark I saw on your arm. At first you are kind, but you can become deadly cruel the next moment if disturbed. We shall be roommates, so now I can study you closer. Gilbert Cocteau, what is your secret?
Who is this new student Gilbert Cocteau, and what secret lies from that mark? Why is it he hates being touched? Will Serge learn the truth? Am I asking too many questions? Remember, I don't know much about the 19th Century, so it may be out of context a little. Hope you liked it!