I woke up the next morning, drowsy as usual. I didn't normally get showers in the morning, but my hair was greasy and I needed it. I showered quickly and got out, I pulled on the set of clothes my dad had picked out, and yes, my dad had to pick out my clothes now. I grabbed my glasses off my nightstand and then my brush. I shoved the glasses on my nose and brushed my wet hair, then made my way into the kitchen.

"Daddy!" I called. I could already smell breakfast. "Dad!" He was cooking eggs and bacon.

"I'm in here!" I sighed and felt my toes meet the tile of the dining room. I knew where he was, but I liked to mess with him.

"Dad, where's here?" I asked. There were times when he did actually forget that I couldn't see. I didn't mind most of the time, it almost made me feel normal.

Sorry hun. I'm in the kitchen," he replied. I laughed and felt my way to him. "You know you don't have to wear those thing here," he told me, gently tapping my dark glasses. I shrugged as he hugged me and set me down at the table. "Okay then. Eat up!" I heard a plate land in front of me. "We have fifteen minutes." I grabbed the fork I knew was waiting for me beside the plate and dug in. "So," my dad's voice was right next to me now, "Francis." I nearly choked on my eggs.

"W-what about him?" I asked, swallowing my food and feeling a blush rising to my cheeks.

"Well, you were out all yesterday afternoon with him-" he started but I cut him off.

"It was his friends too!" I cried indignantly. I quickly scarfed down the rest of my food as my dad laughed. I stood and glared in my father's direction. "I'm going to get my bags. Be ready to go when I come back," I told him and hurried out, trying not to knock my head in the process.

I could feel myself blushing and cursed my teenage hormones. I made it to my room with only a stubbed toe and grabbed my back pack and my purse and snatched my scarf and quickly wrapped it around my neck. I felt my way back into the living room and to the door.

"Daddy! Come on!" I yelled. I opened the door and shivered.

"Forgetting something?" my dad asked. I stuck my tongue out as he pressed my coat into my hands. "Come on," he told me. I pulled my thick sweater on and grabbed his arm and he helped me out and into our car. I held my bags in my lap as I waited for my dad to get in the car. "Ready?" he asked, starting the car. I nodded and felt the car back out of our driveway. "You know, it's not a bad thing if you have a crush," he said. I blushed and turned towards the window.

"Who said I had a crush?" I muttered, running my fingers down the window.

"Nobody," my dad said nonchalantly. "I figured since that boy drove you home… you know," he said. I rolled my eyes.

"That boy is Francis, and just because he drove my home doesn't mean squat," I said, drumming my fingers on the consol.

"True, but by the way you were blushing I just figured-"

"Can we please stop taking about this?!" I cried, trying to hide my face in my scarf. I heard him chuckle and felt the car stop. I could hear the muffled shouts and cries of high school students. We were at the school.

"Sure sweetheart, besides I think someone wants to talk to you," I heard the smirk in his voice as I pulled out my walking stick.

"Who?" I asked, opening the car door. My dad laughed.

"You'll see," he said and kissed my cheek. I rolled my eyes, managing to refrain mentioning I wouldn't be seeing anybody. "Love you hun."

"Love you dad. I'll be home late this afternoon, kay?" I told him, shutting the car door and talking through the open window.

"Alright, see ya _ (n/n)," he said. I waved and turned around, tapping my stick along the ground. I heard my dad drive off behind when an arm around looped around my waist.

"Bonjour mon amour," a thick accent whispered in my ear. I yelped slightly at the sudden contact and dropped my walking stick.

"Gosh!" I said, trying to bend down and find it, "don't you know better than to sneak up on blind people?" I asked Francis. He laughed and I felt him reach down.

"I'm sorry ma chѐrie," he told me as he handed me the walking stick, "I couldn't resist seeing your reaction." I couldn't help giggling.

"Yea, yea alright," I said. I shrunk my walking sticking down, seeing as I wouldn't need it once again and shoved it in my purse. "So, did you scare me for nothing or did you want something?" I asked, smiling up at Francis. He grabbed my hand and slipped his fingers through my own. I blushed slightly.

"I just wanted to talk to you before class started." I could practically hear the giddiness in his voice. I grinned and followed as he walked forward.

"Well, what did you want to talk about," I asked. I felt warm air as we walked inside.

"Zis and zat," he replied, "nozing in particular." I laughed and let him blindly lead me around. "Where's your first class?" he asked.

"Mrs. Martin, D Hall," I replied. I felt him stop and I did the same. I could sense him moving around so he was in front of me. What was he doing? He didn't let go of my hand once.

"Ma chѐrie, may I walk you to class?" he asked quietly. I felt something soft brush against my knuckles and I blushed. He'd kissed my hand. Was he bowing?! I couldn't speak for fear of squeaking so I simply nodded, blushing furiously. I prayed that no one was in the hall. Francis stood up and walked back to my side. I held onto his right arm. "Well zen… let's get you to class," he whispered in my ear. If it was even possible I was blushing harder.

He continued walking while I stayed latched onto his arm. I could hear mutters and whispers. They're aimed at me, I thought. It's because I was walking with Francis, it had to be. I was nothing, I still was nothing, but I was clinging onto the arm of one of the most popular boys in school. I could sense the multitude of stares.

"Um… Francis?" I whispered, touching his shoulder with my free hand. He leaned down so I could reach his ear. "Is everybody watching us?" I questioned. I heard him chuckled and then his hands were on my shoulders, pushing me somewhere.

"Not anymore. We're in ze classroom," he told me. I groaned, knowing he was avoiding telling me just how many people had been looking at us. "'Ere, sit down," he said, helping me into a desk. I felt him sit down on the actual desk part in front of me.

"You're absolutely crazy, you know that?" I inquired. I heard him laugh and smiled at the sound.

"Per'aps just a little," he replied. I grinned and reached a hand forward tentatively. "Looking for zis?" he asked and grabbed my hand with his own. I blushed lightly and nodded. We talked for the remaining twenty minutes before the bell. When the five minute warning bell rang, I felt Francis hop off my desk. He leaned forward and kissed my forehead. I blushed crimson and felt him smile.

"See you at lunch, mon amour," he said. My eyes widened and I was about to say something, but I knew he'd hurried out of the room. I listened as everyone came in and settled down. The second bell rang, signaling for class to start. I only half listened as the teacher began the lesson. I daydreamed through most of the class, as well as the ones after. I found out I had two classes with Gilbert, one of which he shared with Antonio, and one with Arthur. I hardly listened to the teachers and just wished my sixth period would end.

"Class dismissed!" the teacher called as the bell finally rang. "No homework!" I tapped desk as I waited for everyone to shuffle out of the classroom. When all the footfalls faded, I grabbed my bags. I tightened my jacket around my waist, I'd taken it off and tied it around my hips earlier, and walked out of the room. I stayed along the wall, not bothering to pull out my walking stick. I knew my way to cafeteria from here.

"_!" A soft voice caught my attention. I turned, hearing hurried footsteps making their way towards me. "Hey _. Mind walking to lunch with me?" It was Matthew. I smiled at the shy teenager.

"I wouldn't mind at all! Would you be my escort then?" I asked, holding my arm out. I could already tell the Canadian was blushing.

"S-sure," he replied, very gingerly taking my arm. "Are you sure you don't mind looking like you're walking with air?" I gently slapped his arm.

"Don't talk like that Matthew!" I chastised. When I had been able to see, I'd actually spotted the boy a few times. I'd always pointed at him and asked who he was, but people claimed they couldn't see him. Mattie was just a lot quieter than most and kept to himself, and he preferred it that way. "Remember what you told me yesterday? Just because you're different doesn't make you bad. Besides," I grinned at him, gripping his arm a little tighter, "I don't think Gilbert minds too much."

"W-what!?" he cried. He stumbled slightly and tripped. He was able to catch himself, but his momentum already had me falling forward. "_-_!" I turned in the air before I hit the floor, landing on my butt. I wasn't hurt or upset though. I was laughing. "_-_?" I continued giggling, not even caring about my notebooks being strewn all over the place. At least my glasses stayed on my nose this time.

"I'm s-sorry… Mattie! I-I couldn't… resist!" I said, gasping for air. I could sense his confusion. I took a few deep breathes, trying to control my laughter. "When I mentioned Gil, I figured you'd react, but not that bad," I explained, holding my stomach with contained giggles. "I-I'm sorry." I felt him kneel next to me and begin grabbing the contents of my bag off the linoleum floor.

"How… how'd you know?" he asked. His tone was curious, but held worry, like I was going to judge him. I grabbed his arm and he stopped moving.

"I could tell by the way you talked about each other yesterday," I said, hoping I was looking at him. He was quiet. I reached up, hoping I would find his face. I felt his nose and giggled again. "Sorry." I gently cupped the side of his face. "It's alright Matthew. It's love and I'm okay with that. You do love him, right?" He nodded under my touch and I felt the smallest of grins appearing on his face. I smiled at the light heat I could feel coming off his cheeks.

"_!" I jumped at my name being yelled. I pulled away from Matthew and turned. "_! Are you alright?" I knew that French accent.

"I'm fine Francis," I said. I heard him walk to us and I reached a hand up blindly, hoping one of them would help me. "I surprised Mattie and he tripped," I said as a strong hand gripped mine. I was about to use the hand as leverage and pull myself up, but the person had other plans. I was yanked to my feet and pulled into a slender, muscular chest. The scent of roses overwhelmed my nose.

"You 'ad me so worried," Francis murmured in my ear. My immediate realization was that my fingers, I had thrown my hands up to catch myself and they'd landed against the Frenchman's chest, were touching skin. I ran my hand down until it finally met satiny cloth. His shirt had a very low collar. It was very open and revealed his smooth skin all the way to the bottom of his rib cage where it tapered. I blushed profusely, feeling the muscle and strength under the skin.

"Like what you feel?" he whispered into my hair. I blushed again and tried to pull away, but he held me tight. My heart was beating rapidly in my chest. "Gilbert was worried ze two of you 'ad been taken somewhere and raped," he was talking to both of us now.

"Francis!" Matthew whined. I knew he was blushing as much as I was by now.

"I'm just telling you what he zought," he replied innocently. I heard footsteps walking away from us.

"I'm gonna go make sure he knows I'm alright, eh. You two hurry up!" he called, running now. I was about to get out of Francis' death grip, but I felt something warm land on my cheek. I reached up and wiped it away. A tear? I heard quiet sniffles coming from right in front of me.

"Francis? Are you alright?" I asked, reaching up and taking his face in my hands. More tears hit my fingers. "Francis?" I said again, extremely worried now. His hands grabbed my wrists and gently removed them from his face. I opened my mouth to respond but suddenly arms were around my waist in a tight hug. I squeaked lightly as the strong arms enveloped my small frame.

"I was so worried about you," Francis said into my throat. "I was so scared zat somezing 'ad 'appened to you." I felt more tears land on my throat and shoulders. I slowly wrapped my arms around his neck and ran my fingers through his soft, shoulder length hair.

"Shh, Francis. Shh, it's alright. I'm right here," I said softly. He took a few shuddering breathes and pulled away. "Are you alright?" I asked. I felt strong, slender fingers hold my face.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his face right in front of mine, "please, don't ever scare me like zat again." I couldn't reply as his lips were pressed somewhat roughly. Before I could respond in kind, he was pulling away. My eyes widened and I touched my mouth.

"Francis?" I asked, trying to find him, seeing as he'd suddenly disappeared.

"Just a moment mon amour," he said. I turned towards his voice and felt as his arm snaked around my waist. "I'm sorry, we can go now," he said, tugging me along. I tried to turn and was about to protest.

"It's alright, I 'ave your stuff," he said soothingly. I sighed and leaned into him.

"Thanks," I said, smiling at him. He quickly kissed my temple and I took that as a 'you're welcome.' We were almost immediately outside. I heard people talking and eating as Francis led me to a table.

"Hey _ (n/n)! What took you two so long?!" I heard Alfred call. I rolled my eyes and couldn't help the heat that rose to my cheeks.

"I accidentally tripped Matthew," I said apologetically. I heard a few snickers as Francis sat me down and then sat down beside me.

"It's alright _," the Canadian replied, right next to me. I smiled and leaned close to him.

"Don't worry," I whispered, making sure the others couldn't hear, "I know about Al and Arthur too." I heard him giggled and I pulled away. I grabbed my bags from Francis and reached in for my lunch.

"Um," I said, my hand still roving my bad, "guys. Who's got my lunch?" I set my bad down, realizing I wouldn't have to watch it with the guys here. Well, unless I was protecting it from them.

"Vat lunchbox?" Gilbert asked. I huffed and crossed my arms.

"Guys!" I whined. If whining didn't work, I knew the perfect trick that would have them giving it back.

"You boys are terrible! Give 'er 'er lunch back," Francis said, mocking in his tone. I slapped his stomach, well, I was aiming for his stomach and got his chest, knowing he was the one who had taken it in the first place.

"We have no idea what you're talking about!" Alfred said in front of me, holding in his laughter. Time to work my magic.

"G-guys," I whimpered. I was so good at playing upset. I could even make myself cry. "Y-you're all s-so mean!" I pretended to sob. I made tears come to my eyes and lifted my hand to wipe them away.

"Señorita!" Antonio said hurriedly.

"No _! Ve're sorry. Ve didn't mean it! Here," Gilbert said hurriedly, shoving my lunch into my hands. I grinned, wiping away the rest of my fake tears.

"Thank guys," I said, smiling and opening the lunch box. "You guys are so gullible."

"You little devil," Arthur said, "I actually though you were upset." I laughed.

"That was the point!" I told him. "I'm hungry sand it," I giggled and dug into my food.

"You…" Gilbert muttered, obviously in awe of how I could trick someone so awesome as he.

"That was very sneaky señorita. Very sneaky and very smart," he said. I laughed again through the food making its way into my mouth and down my throat. I swallowed and continued praising myself and listening to the guys laugh. As they quieted down and talked amongst each other, a pair of lips snuck up to my ear.

"Zat was good, mon amour. You even 'ad me worried," Francis murmured. I giggled as his breath tickled the skin under my ear.

"I told you. I was hungry." He chuckled and continued his conversation with the others. I simply listened and smiled at the random bits of talk I picked up. It wasn't just from the boys at my table either, but at tables a ways from us. Ever since I lost my eyesight. my hearing had gotten a lot better. My eyebrows scrunched together as I overheard a couple of girls talking.

"Tonight's the night, Liz. We're gonna do it," one girl said.

"Deb," the other girl, Liz, replied, "I thought you were going to wait until after you were married." Deb sighed.

"I thought I was, but I just can't wait. I love him so much Lizzy, and he loves me. I know he does…" I continued listening to the two girls argue and was so caught up in them that I didn't even hear the bell ring.

"_?" I jumped as a hand touched my shoulder. "Are you alright?" Francis asked. I blinked and looked up his direction.

"Oh… uh, yeah," I mumbled, blushing slightly. That was one of the most embarrassing conversations I'd ever heard, and yet it had me thinking… No! I've just met him, jeez. I don't even know if he likes me?! But if he doesn't like you then why has he kissed you. I shook the extremely confusing thoughts away as he helped me stand and handed me my bags.

"What your next class and are you sure?" he asked, gently wrapping an arm around my waist. I nodded, shouldering my purse and backpack.

"Hilliard, T48, and yea. I was just uh… listening in on a couple of girls talking," I said as he started walking me to my next class. I heard him say goodbye to his friends before turning back to me.

"Ah, and 'ow can you do zat?" he inquired curiously.

"It's only because I'm blind that I can," I explained as he helped walk up some stairs. "Since I don't have my sight anymore, I have to depend on my other senses, mainly my hearing.

"Oh okay," he said. "so what were zey talking about?" I blushed bright red, becoming suddenly very aware of his arm around my waist and his hand resting on my hip. I wracked my brain for a fake answer. I realized, thankfully, we'd walked into my class

"Um… I'll uh, I'll tell you later alright. I don't want you to be late," I said quickly. I heard him grunt, but sigh in agreement.

"Alright zen, later," he said, "I'll see you after class." He kissed the top of my head and was gone. The bell rang and my literature class started. I actually tried to pay attention because I somewhat enjoyed literature. The teacher lectured for nearly half the class and then stuck in a video about the first pilgrims. I blocked out the noise and simply thought about the girls from lunch. It was nagging at me and I wanted it to stop!

At last the bell rang and I was free for the rest of the day. I smiled as I grabbed my bags and walked out of the door. I smiled at the prospect of spending it with Francis and the guys.

"_! Dude!" I heard Alfred calling from down the hall. It was cheerful enough, but it almost sounded fake.

"Al?" I asked, just making sure. He was running towards me, very much out of breath. "Is everything alright, Al?" I was suddenly worried something had happened to my friends.

"Uh… yea, yea. Everything is fine. I was instructed to come fetch you," he replied, trying to catch his breathe. I could hear the worry lacing his own voice. I decided to lighten the mood. My eyes widened in mock surprise.

"Oh really?" I asked. "Why couldn't Mr. Bonnefoy come and get me personally?" I raised my eyebrows, teasing him. He must have looked up and seen I was playing around.

"He sends his deepest apologies, Miss. _ (l/n). He, Mr. Beilschmidt, and Mr. Carriedo had some business to take care of," he replied in his best southern gentleman voice. I could still tell he was straining though, he was holding something back. I scrunched my eyes brows at his last sentence.

"Business?" I asked, worry and concern filling my voice. I'd heard of The Bad Touch Trio the moment I hit high school and I knew who they were as well. Gilbert, Antonio, and Francis made up this trio and the way Alfred mentioned business made me fret. I heard him sigh shakily.

"If you'd come with me ma'am," he said keeping up the façade and gently taking my arm. I rested my hand in the crook of his arm and let him lead me down the hall.

"Hurry Al," I said, praying we got there before they did anything too stupid.

"Und don't you ever, ever touch him again! Next time you von't get so lucky to get off vith a varning!" Gilbert threatened loudly, heaving as he shouted at the three large jocks now laying half-conscious in front of him. His blood red eyes gleamed evilly as he stared hatefully down at them.

Francis and Antonio had seen the Prussian get mad before. It happened quite often; he was hot-headed, ill-tempered and he let things get to him easily. The only thing that would normally calm him down was Matthew. The boy would simply hold the upset teenager until he calmed down. However, when the only person that could calm Gilbert down was being shoved against a wall and being taken advantage of… You didn't want to be on the receiving end of Gilbert's wrath.

"I svear, next time-" he started but was cut off by a low moan.

"Gil," Matthew whimpered from his slumped position on the ground. The Prussian's head whipped around, following the voice. He glared down at the three boys again, kicking one in the side, before running to Matthew. "G-Gilbert…" the Canadian cried softly. Gilbert knelt by him, brushing dirty blonde hair out of violet eyes. He pulled the shaking boy into his lap.

"Shh, shh, Mattie, shh. I'm right here, everyzing's alright. Did zey…" he began to ask, but Matthew shook his head against the teen's broad chest. He sighed in relief. "Gott sei Dank," he mumbled. He gently, carefully scooped Matthew into his arms and lifted him with ease. "It's alright, I promise." Matthew shivered in the strong arms holding him and clung to the front of Gilbert's shirt, crying softly.

"What do you want to do wiz zem?" Francis asked, eyeing the bloodied boys still lying behind them. Gilbert practically snarled as he looked back at them.

"Leave zem. Someone vill find zem eventually," he growled and continued walking. Francis and Antonio nodded, following suit.

The three jocks had corned poor Mathew as he was coming out of his last class and backed him into one of the only alleys at the school. They'd wanted more than just his lunch money and the shy, frightened Canadian had no idea what to do. He'd yelled desperately for Gilbert, and they knocked him in the jaw. Francis had been walking past, going to get _ when heard the shout. He'd called Gilbert and Antonio for back up and then called Alfred to procure _ from her class for him. He wouldn't let Alfred anywhere near these guys.

The Frenchman instantly jumped in, knowing he'd be too late if he waited for Gil and Toni. He'd watched as Matthew fell in a heap on the ground and the three huge, obvious football players turned towards him. He'd started fighting, going three against one. He managed to land a few good hits, but they over powered him just as Gilbert arrived.

The Prussian had taken in the scene in less than three seconds, and gone from worried to 'so effing pissed off you are going to die' in less than half a second. He took one of them out almost immediately, knocking him out cold with one blow to the back of his head. Francis was able to get loose and help as Antonio got there. The three boys took out the other two with no problem.

Francis was the only fighting at first, so he was pretty beat up. He had a very bloody lip, most likely numerous bruises and at a least a black eye, a few scrapes, and one fairly bad scratch across his forehead. Gilbert had a few scrapes, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle, and Antonio was simply scuffed up a bit. The Frenchman and Prussian were limping slightly.

"Mattie!" Alfred and _ had arrived just as Gilbert was putting the American's brother in his car. Alfred was going to be the only besides Gil allowed anywhere near Matthew right now. Alfred had made a mad dash towards his twin, leaving _ by herself.

"Hello!" she cried. Francis looked over and saw her flailing with her arms out in front of her.

"Mon amour," he said, hurrying to her and trying not to limp. He took her in his arms, hugging her. "I sorry I couldn't get you from class," he said, running his thumb across her cheek. She reached up and quickly brushed something away from her eyes.

"I-it's fine. I just got kinda worried when Alfred mentioned you three," she said, reaching up to touch his face. He flinched away, knowing she would be able to feel his injuries. She furrowed her eyebrows and reached forward again.

"_-_," he stuttered nervously. She shushed him with a finger to his lip. Her fingers probed his face, feeling the bruises and bumps. Her thumb brushed over the gash in his lip, making him wince. Her hand finally made its way to his forehead. He slender fingers ran along the long cut and was smeared with blood.

"Francis," she whispered, "what happened?" Once more, she was dying to see the boy standing in front of her.


French: ma chѐrie - my dear
mon amour - my love

Spanish: Señorita - Miss

German: Gott sei Dank - Thank God