A.N. By surprising popular demand, Chapter 2. Hope you enjoy :D
Still don't own *pines for shirtless Balthier*
The sunlight seemed to glitter as it sneaked through the blinds, bombarding Vaan and ripping away the sleep his jet lag so desperately clung to. He kept his eyes firmly shut in a vain attempt to fall back to sleep, but it was to no avail. After a few minutes of intense war, Vaan finally gave up the losing battle, sitting up and blinking away the last dregs of his slumber. It took a couple of moments for Vaan to realise that, in this unusual climate, going to bed topless was a pretty dire idea.
Whilst scrabbling for a delightfully warm jumper (thanking any higher beings that he packed them), the rather condescending side of his personality pointed out that visiting England wasn't a great idea either. Of course, another part of his psyche – which his jet lag had now, reluctantly, released – reminded him about the gorgeous man named Balthier, who lived in the abysmal England, but was friends with Penelo, the same Penelo Vaan was very close to.
Things seemed stacked in his favour.
As he started to formulate a master plan (Operation: Get Balthier As MINE), his thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door.
Cue panic.
What if it was Balthier coming in to check on him? Vaan stared in horror at his jumper - a gift from Migelo, the being with the worst fashion sense to walk the Earth – and started yanking the gaudy lime and red jumper off, trying to tame his bed head before anyone came in. English weather be damned, he was going to be topless to show Balthier what he could have.
And then the door opened.
And Vaan stared, though he knew he really shouldn't. His Mum did say it was rude to stare.
It slowly became apparent in Vaan's slightly sleep fogged mind that, as Balthier did not possess breasts, and this dark skinned person in the doorway did, it was not Balthier in the doorway. If that wasn't a relief, Vaan didn't know what was.
The woman (Vaan had managed to remind himself it was women and extra fat men who had breasts that protruded) was quite tall, with dark skin and white hair that any hair product model would be jealous of. Vaan would probably have described her as beautiful, if it wasn't for the fact she was glaring at anything and everything. Vaan hoped that she was simply not a morning person.
The woman turned her piercing gaze to Vaan, who managed to stand his ground (which he was rather proud of, considering he'd hide under his bed to escape this scary looking woman), and her eyes soften a small amount. Who wouldn't feel sorry for a topless, shivering young man with a comb lodged firmly in his hair due to tangles?
"I assume you are Vaan, Penelo's friend from America. Am I correct?" The woman's light voice was gentle, and seemed to float across the room to Vaan, shocking him slightly. He, nonetheless, nodded in confirmation to her question. She smiled slightly, which made her seem slightly more gentle to Vaan, "I am Fran, I am one of the owners of The Strahl, along with Balthier. Penelo called to alert us as to your current situation. Do not worry about your staying cost, Balthier and myself have arranged it with Penelo." She ceased speaking, then looked Vaan up and down, with what Vaan could have sworn was a scrutinizing gaze, "Breakfast is available for those dressed appropriately in half an hour." With the poor American boy blushing, Fran turned to leave, but with her fingers atop the door handle, she looked over her shoulder towards him.
"A word of advice."
"Huh?"
"Balthier has been put off sluts, so you are not going to progress far with attracting his affections in this fashion." With which, Fran left, shutting the door on Vaan, who felt he had definitely been knocked down several marks.
Balthier was not, in any way shape or form, a happy bunny about his current stage in life. His morning had been near apocalyptic, regardless of the fact Fran stated in a bored fashion that Balthier was over exaggerating. To begin with, he had tumbled out of bed in a rather undignified manner (completely unsuited for a leading man)whilst trying to shut his nuisance of an alarm clock up. This turn of events resulted in him having a rapidly forming bruise on his ribcage and a throbbing pain on the side of his head where the alarm clock had attacked his poor defenceless skull. Said alarm clock had now been thrown out the window and was probably sinking into the lake. Good riddance. A few minutes later, Balthier was going to indulge in a relaxing shower, only to find out Fran had used all of the hot water. Upon confrontation, she simply smirked and told him he should get up earlier. If she was not his closest friend and business partner, he probably would have throttled her.
That and the fact leading men never hit or throttled women.
Furthermore, the room directly below his own was occupied by a couple who had decided to use his motel for a dirty weekend, and a particularly loud one at that. He tried to block out the screams for 'more', 'harder', 'faster' and 'watch where you're putting your finger!', but to no avail, which now resulted in huge black bags under his eyes. He relished in taking the blushing couple's money and telling the young man to watch where he put his fingers, which caused both to leave in a hurry, much to Balthier's satisfaction.
This still did not help to budge Balthier from the slump he found himself in. He was still in complete shock about how his last relationship with a floozy had ended. He was the one dumped. The floozy had severed their connection. Not Balthier 'The Heartbreaker' Bunansa, Slut Number 24 (or was it 25?). Balthier had had enough of relationships with men after the last disaster – let's not go into that, eh? - and had tried to return to his straight roots. All 24 or 25 attempts had failed, why must women have so much drama?
"Balthier, cease moping and assist me with these pancakes for our guests." Fran continued to glare at Balthier's back, from where he was staring at one of the particularly clean plates on the drying rack. He sighed and turned away from the drying plates and started sorting out utensils for their guests, working silently.
He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder, and turned to Fran's sympathetic gaze. Her eyes were soft, knowing of his still disastrous love life – that, she might stretch to calling apocalyptic – and sympathising with her dear friend. "You will find whoever it is you truly belong with, regardless of their gender. Just be patient Balthier."
He blinked in surprise, then smiled gently his friend. What would he do without her? "You're right Fran. It's unsuitable for a leading man to get down over their love life of all things."
Fran joined her friend in smiling, until they smelt a rather annoying scent.
"The pancakes are burning."
"I had noticed, foolish man."
