Numero uno
It's often said that when your routine is upset, it throws your system into wacko mode…
I, being a prince, of course, laugh at this.
Take now, for example. Fran hasn't been bumbling around in his room next door like usual, yet I'm sleeping just fine.
…Or not, whatever.
As it goes, the curtains have sixteen folds in them combined, the bed sheets have 56 little stars and 32 big stars, I have made 23 scratches on the left bed post with my knives, I have 786+ strands of hair in my eyes at the moment (I got bored of counting after awhile) and it is definitely a freckle, not a mole, scratch, bite or lump of fungus on the back of Fran's neck.
I am that bored.
Not to mention Froggy dearest has decided to swipe my hand away. Cheeky. Now how am I meant to count frog-hairs when he gets all twitchy?
I guess I could rip it out….
But I would rather count all of it, and bald froggy is a no-no.
Ugh. I know you're supposed to count sheep when you're tired, but princes don't look at dirty things like sheep, so I have nothing to count. Knives? I know them back to front, all 56 of them, that would be too boring (although surely that's the point?).
Even so. Maybe counting things just isn't going to work for me.
I stare up at the canopy above me, finding myself subconsciously counting the rows. It was weird looking up from one side of the bed. I'm not used to sharing my bed with people.
I'm not even sure how this all happened or when, just that it did and I don't regret a single thing. Fran went from annoying, doll-like, irritating, juvenile, annoying frog boy to cute, enigmatic, quiet, attractive, dry-humoured frog boy without me even noticing. And his mask isn't nearly as good as he likes to think it is…
That or I'm just getting better at reading him.
I can tell when you're scared. I can tell when you're pissed at me, when you're upset and when expecting things to go just that little bit further… I just can't quite tell yet when you're happy.
I'll have to work hard on making you happy…
…
God I wish Fran would wake up.
Poor little frog's all tired out though (ushishi, my bad~ sorry froggy!), and fun as he is to torment, I don't really fancy dealing with a tired froggy thank you very much.
I rolled onto my side and snuggled up to Fran, deciding spooning was a very good idea right at this moment in time (I can be very cuddly when I want to be…). I wrapped my arms around the skinny froggy (seriously, eat some food dude), who was officially mine as of 12.30 this evening/morning (Jesus, it's 3 am already?!). I buried my face into his hair- it's so soft-, inhaling deeply. He always smells nice, him with his girly shampoo. I dunno what it's called, probably eau de frog or something… Heh… Either way, it smells good. It smells like him. Or he smells of it. That probably makes more sense. Am I seriously having a debate about shampoo?
I get that flippy feeling in my stomach when I smell this though, the same kind I get when he touches me, smiles at me, kisses me, hell even looks in my vague direction. Lussuria's convinced that it's love, but princes don't fall in love… Especially not with peasant frogs. He's just… nice company. A friendly face. Good kisser. Better lay. I don't know who I'm trying to fool with this.
He didn't look at me a lot when we had sex, but that's okay. He probably thinks I don't know about his failure of a mask, ushishi~. I'll let his dream live on for now~ even if, every time I looked at him (all sneaky like, go me~) his 'mask' had fallen so far, lying forgotten on the floor amidst the dust (and clothes). My throat feels tight again, and all I can hear is the blood rushing through my ears (it's everywhere else too, just I only hear with my ears). 'Thinking about the frog' should be class A level of dangerous… or maybe B, I wouldn't wanna go to jail for it… But surely you go to jail for class B drugs too… or is it just a fine?… Fran's fine…
Wow, my thoughts really loop well together.
In front of me, Fran's snuggling up closer. I feel sick, my face is going to explode (which would mean lots of blood everywhere, my blood… hmm, not a bad idea… mm, blood…), but no, no, remember what the gay man says (am I really in a position to label him that way?)- it's a sick feeling, yes, but a good one… Nah, never made sense to me either.
I've been inhaling Fran's scent for too long now, I'm going dizzy. I would rather not die from suffocation, butt- naked and with no blood loss what-so-ever. It's just not cool enough for a prince.
I remember something I overheard Lussuria saying to the stupid shark- something about 'intoxication'. How someone can completely take over your mind, invade your senses and possess your soul. All sounds a bit morbid if you ask me, yet lying here with the little frog (who looks really quite good without the hat on, I'll have to 'accidentally' lose it so he never wears it again~), it's the only word that makes sense. I could happily stay this way for just about ever, and I don't wanna be a possessive bastard, but the thought of being without him angers me far too much. Scrap that, it terrifies me. And it scares me how the only possible way I can know he feels even a fraction of what I do is that he says it (like afterwards, when he was all sweaty and panting and oh so lovely. Grr, I could just eat him all up…). He hadn't bothered with his mask then… That couldn't possibly mean he trusts me, could it? It's the general rule I use with my eyes (which he's seen, lucky froggy), but I can't just assume.. I can hope though…
Princes don't fall in love…
But I love you so much, Fran…
Light was pouring into my eyes. What a pain. It's not meant to be light this late…
I grumbled to myself, brushing the limited amount of hair in my eyes away. I guess I didn't close the curtains, but hey, can you blame me? I was a little preoccupied, ushishishi…
All ready to go and close the nuisance curtains (I can only assume a car had parked outside with it's lights on full blown, damn that Levi) , yet when I opened my eyes I was met with the sight of Fran staring at me, hair all splayed out behind him on the pillow, brushing my hair aside (aka STROKING it). Smiling. That God damn smile that I'm pretty sure would be the death of me (even if heart attack is also not cool enough for a prince…). He was bathed in sunlight, and my first thought was 'angel' until I realised how girly I sounded. Wait, sunlight? I glanced over his head to see the clock, red LED numbers showing that it was 10 am. I looked back at my frog (mine, oh yeah.) and smiled an unnatural (for me), genuine smile.
"Ushishishi. Good morning, Fran."