Francis grabbed the hand that was cupping his face and kissed her palm.
"I'll explain, I promise, but right now we just need to get Matzew home," he said. He grabbed _ around the waist and helped her over to the group. Arthur had arrived and was standing next to Antonio watching Gilbert and Alfred fret over Matthew.
"We could just take him to the house. Our dad won't be home yet," Alfred said, looking at Gilbert. The Prussian looked pained for a moment, but nodded.
"Alvight, yes, but vill you drive?" he asked, looking at Matthew and cupping his check tenderly. The poor teenager was still shivering and was curled into a ball with his eyes closed tight. Alfred nodded and stood up.
"We're goin' to my place, y'all comin'?" he asked, heading for the driver's seat. The three boys nodded and hurried to their own vehicles. "Artie, would you drive my car?" he asked Arthur. The Brit nodded and grabbed Alfred's car keys. "See you soon," he murmured, kissing Arthur quickly.
"I'll see you there love," he replied and jogged to the American's car. They all got in, started their cars, and rushed to Alfred's house.
I sighed heavily as Francis explained what had happened. I buried my face in my hands, praying that Matthew would be alright.
"Okay, I get all that, but why did Al come and get me instead of coming to help you guys?" I asked, still curious since it was his brother. I heard Francis chuckle lightly.
"If we had let Alfred come and take care of zem, zey wouldn't be breazing." My eyes widened and I turned towards him. Alfred didn't seem like the kind of guy to get worked up over much. "If Alfred would 'ave come, what we did would 'ave seemed kind. He doesn't 'ave much anymore. We're 'is friends, oui, but Matzew is 'is brozer. 'Im, 'is father and Arzur are what keep 'im going. Zat is why Alfred grabbed your 'and so roughly yesterday."
He told me that even though the boys were twins; their parents had divorced when they were little. Their father had gotten Alfred, who stayed in America, and their mother took Matthew and they moved up to Canada. The brothers grew up separately, but kept in touch with each other. They talked on the phone and over the computer; they even got to visit one another every now and then. They were still brothers and were determined not to let anything get in the way of that.
The boys were in middle school when their mother passed away. Her new husband hadn't wanted to take of Matthew so he sent the quiet teenager to live with his brother and father. He didn't mind too much. As much as he would miss Canada, he knew there was no point in staying anymore, and he wanted to go live with his brother and father.
He arrived in less than two days and was met by and extremely excited Alfred. The American hadn't really known his mother all that well, but he understood the bond between parent and child. He couldn't imagine what he would do without his father, so he helped Matthew with the loss of their mother. Even though he'd moved, he also preferred to keep his mama's last name, Williams, instead of changing it to Jones.
Eventually, they were totally inseparable; they never left each other's side. They did everything together, or tried their darndest anyway. Matthew did hockey in high school while Alfred did football. They always went to each other's games and always hung out when they could and they had almost all the same classes.
Matthew had been rather hesitant to let Arthur in and interrupt their comfortable routine, scared that he would change everything and take Alfred away from him. They got to know one another however and were now good friends. While in high school they met Francis, Antonio and Gilbert. They'd all been rather weary about the others at first, but eventually the Bad Touch Trio decided to mess with the three boys and well… here they were. You don't want the details, trust me. Francis wouldn't tell me anyway.
I realized that Francis had been talking for a good ten to fifteen minutes at least. I nodded as he finished, taking in everything that he had told me about the twins. They'd been through so much, it was absolutely crazy. I tried to set aside some of the information and let my brain take a rest and I asked why we'd been driving for so long.
"Matzew, Alfred, and zeir father live on a ranch a good ways out. It takes about twenty minutes to get zere," he told me. I felt as he turned off of the smooth asphalt onto bumpy dirt road.
"And guessing were almost there," I said, listening to the rocks and sticks hit the undercarriage of the car.
"Oui," was his simple reply. I heard the four cars pull up and the crunch of feet on the ground. "Come on ma chérie," Francis had opened my door and was helping me out. I grabbed his hand and followed him inside. I didn't say anything, but I could feel Francis limping as he helped me around. I could tell that the house was big by the large echoy sound it had when we walked in. I heard the shuffle of all our feet and then I was being led upstairs.
"In here." I heard Alfred say. I realized we were going into a room. "Just lay him on the bed Gil. I'll get the first aid kit."
"How bad is it?" I asked softly.
"It could be worse," Antonio answered. "He has a few scrapes and most likely a knot on his head, but other than that he should be fine. I think he's just more shaken up that anything." I nodded and pried Francis' fingers off my arms. I knew Gilbert would still be near Matthew.
"Ma chérie?" I held a finger to my lips. I walked forward slowly, trying not to trip on anything in the room.
"Gil," I whispered, reaching out in front of me, just barely brushing his shoulder. I heard him snarl and I was glad I couldn't see the look on his face. "Please let me look at him. My mother was a nurse before she died. I may have been young but I still remember some of the stuff she told me." I slowly reached up. I held his face in my hands and I was surprised to feel tears running down his cheeks. He was scared and frightened for Matthew. I could tell just by how badly he was shaking. "Please Gil," I said. He nodded and led me next to him.'
"Is he… going to be alvight?" he asked. I sat next to the Canadian on the bed, ignoring Gilbert for the moment. I felt slowly up his chest to his throat and face. I could feel a few scraps and bumps, but nothing real major. I held his face in my hands and rubbed slow circles into his temples.
"Mattie," I said softly. "Matthew." I felt his eyes flutter open. "Matthew, are you alright?" I asked. He groaned slightly and I heard movement behind and beside me. I stuck one of my hands out, signaling for them to stop. "Mattie."
"_," the teenager moaned. "I can't see." I quirked an eyebrow. He couldn't see?
"I'll get his extra pair of glasses. Hang on just a sec," Al said quickly. I heard him dart out.
"_," Matthew mumbled. I gently lowered a hand to his collar bone.
"Are you alright?" I asked again. He nodded but I could feel him wincing. "Where's it hurt?"
"My… my stomach… they hit me a couple of times," he muttered, clenching his teeth. "They… hit my jaw, too." I looked over my shoulder and felt my glasses slid down my nose.
"Antonio, go get an ice pack for his mouth. I don't want it to swell." I said, running a hand down his shirt. I listened as the Spaniard hurried out of the room. I groaned loudly as I felt buttons down the Canadians shirt. I fumbled with them for a moment before cursing under my breath. I heard Matthew chuckle softly and I couldn't help but grin.
"Dang it! Somebody undo these for me!" I said, removing my fingers frustratedly. Someone came up behind me and began undoing the small buttons. Whoever it was smelled like rainwater and tea.
"Here love," Arthur said. He grabbed my wrist and placed them back on Matthew chest. The Canadian felt small in stature, and probably looked that way to most people, but he was anything but. He was lithe and muscular. He had gained all that muscle from hockey, but didn't know how to use it to fight.
"Thank you," I replied. Arthur helped me shrug him out of the shirt and I felt for the hem of his tank top. I could feel how cool my fingers were against his abdomen. "Tell me if it hurts," I instructed. I gingerly kneaded my fingers into his sides and abdomen. I felt him flinch.
"There," he grunted. I nodded and called over my shoulder, not once removing my fingers.
"Francis," I said, "come here. Arthur, go find Al and Toni." I heard footsteps hurrying out of the room.
"Oui _?" I heard Francis behind me.
"Where my fingers are, is there any discoloration?" I asked. He contemplated a moment before answer.
"Oui, zere are bruises, but it doesn't look like anyzing too bad," he replied. I sighed in relief.
"There's no red or purple?" I inquired, just to make sure.
"Non, just bluish brown." I nodded. That was good, there was no internal bleeding. I hadn't expected any. From what I'd been told, there wasn't much to worry about, but I figured I might as well check. I heard scuffling behind me and the announcement of Alfred with his brother's glasses and Antonio with the ice pack. I went to push away from Matthew and accidently pushed on his stomach.
"Ow ow ow!" Matthew cried. I gasped as I was gripped at the shoulder and shoved back. I nearly tumbled to the floor but thankfully Francis caught me.
"Gilbert!" he reprimanded, "she didn't mean it." He pulled me to my feet and held me close. I heard the Prussian murmuring softly to Matthew as I buried my face in Francis' chest.
"I-I'm sorry," I mumbled, "I didn't mean to hurt him." I heard a gentle sigh and soothing sounds.
"It's alright _. Gilbert knows that, he just over reacts sometimes," Matthew told me. I nodded and looked up randomly.
"Antonio, do you have the ice?" I asked
"Sí señorita. He already has it," he told me. I nodded and leaned into Francis. We were all quiet for a minute before Matthew said he wanted to talk to Alfred. Gilbert was hesitant but finally agreed. We all filed out and left the twins to talk. I could tell they needed it, even if I couldn't see, I could tell. Francis wrapped an arm around me as we left the brothers to talk by themselves for a while.
Francis helped _ down the stairs and the small group entered a small library and sat down.
"Where's their dad?" _ asked as Francis sat them down on a plush sofa.
"He usually works late," Arthur explained as he sat to their left on an arm chair. "He helps manufacture mechanical parts for different airplane companies." _ nodded, rubbing her head.
"Alright," she said, leaning into Francis and resting her head on his shoulder. They all sat quietly before Gilbert spoke up.
"I'm sorry for shoving you _," he said. "I just… I…" he trailed off, not knowing what to say. She smiled knowingly.
"It's alright. I understand," she told him. "I know how you feel." She blushed as she thought about how worried she'd been about Francis when Alfred had come to get her. They listened as footsteps made their way downstairs and into the room we were in.
"Is he asleep amigo?" Antonio asked from his spot on the short couch across from Francis and _.
"Yea, for now," Alfred replied. He walked over and sat down heavily on the floor. He set down in front of Arthur and let the Brit play absentmindedly with his hair. "He's just really tired and shaken up. He said his stomach hurts but besides that he was alright."
"If you give him some ibuprofen it should help the pain and any swelling in his jaw," _ supplied helpfully. Alfred looked at her and nodded his head.
"Thank ya. I'll be sure to take him some," the American said softly, leaning back against Arthur's legs. They were quiet for a little while, everyone not sure really what to say. Eventually, Antonio broke the silence and spoke up.
"Well, mi amigos, I had best be going. I have to get home. I don't want mi padre to have to deal with Lovi and Feliciano by himself," he told the group. _ looked up.
"Who?" she asked curiously. Antonio stood up chuckling.
"Lovino and Feliciano Vargas. They're my cousins from Italy. They've come to visit for the week. Tomorrow we'll go to my place and you can meet them," he told her. Gilbert and Arthur snorted.
"I'm not sure you want to meet them love," the Englishman said sarcastically. _ giggled and looked at him.
"They can't be that bad," she said. Francis laughed and kissed her cheek.
"Zey're pretty bad," he replied. Antonio laughed and walked towards the door.
"Hasta luego mi amigos. Mi casa mañana," he said and walked out the door. They all laughed lightly and then Alfred looked up suddenly at _.
"I'm so sorry _. I haven't been a proper host. Do you want anything?" he asked, starting to get up. She shook her head quickly.
"No, no. I'm good, thank you though," she replied. She didn't want Alfred to do more than he had to. "I might later, but I'm good for right now." The teenager sat back down and laid against Arthur's shins.
They sat and talked quietly for a little while before light footsteps caught their attention. They all looked up and saw Matthew stumbling down the stairs.
"Matzew!" Gilbert cried. He immediately jumped up, followed closely by Alfred and rushed to the Canadian's side.
"I'm fine guys, honestly," he protested softly. They wouldn't hear it though and walked him back upstairs.
"I'm guessing we should probably go," _ said, standing up shakily and Francis followed suit. Arthur sighed but stood as well.
"You don't have to, but they'll be rather preoccupied with Matthew," he said. _ nodded and Francis wrapped an arm around her.
"Thank you for everything, and don't let Alfred forget about the ibuprofen," she told him. "We'll see you guys tomorrow." She waved and Francis led them out of the house.
I sighed, closing my eyes and let Francis help me out of the car. I rubbed my shoulder where Gilbert had grabbed me and shoved me backwards. Poor Gil, he must've been so worried. I rolled my shoulder and winced slightly.
"Are you alright ma chérie?" Francis asked as he walked me to my door. I nodded and tried the door knob. It was locked.
"Yea, my shoulder's kinda sore," I told him as I fumbled with my purse. I dug my hand around trying to find my keys. "Gilbert's got one heck of a grip," I said as I pulled out my house key. "Would you open the door?" I asked, holding out my key.
"Of course l'amour," he said and I heard him put the key in the lock and open the front door. "Would you mind letting me look at your shoulder?" he asked as I walked in, keeping close the wall. I dropped my bag in the sofa and listened to my stomach grumble.
"No I don't mind. Hang on a sec though," I said. It was a little too quiet and usually my dad left the door unlocked. I made my way into the kitchen and felt for the refrigerator. "Hey Francis, come here!" I called, pulling a piece of paper off the fridge door.
"Oui mon amour?" he asked, walking into the kitchen. I turned, holding out the paper.
"Does this say anything?" I inquired. He took the paper and read what it said.
"'I'll be 'ome real late. Food's in ze microwave," he said. I grinned and stumbled towards the microwave. "Is it like zis a lot?" Francis asked as I popped open the door and pulled out a McDonald's bag. I knew what it was by the smell.
"Yea," I replied, "when he knows he's gonna be late he'll leave a piece of paper on the fridge or leave a message on the answering machine." I unwrapped a hamburger and bit into it. "You get used to it," I said, swallowing my food. I continued eating until the Frenchman spoke up."
"It must by lonely," he said softly. I smiled, reaching out my hand as I set the wrappers of my now eaten food down. He grabbed it and I walked forward.
"It was, but then you decided to help me and now. Well, I'm not lonely anymore," I murmured, wrapping my arms around his waist and resting my head on his chest. "Thank you." His arms encircled my small frame and he kissed my forehead.
"You're welcome l'amour," he whispered. I smiled and reached up, gently touching his face. I leaned up and kissed his cheek. I smiled and pulled away to open the refrigerator. I grabbed a jug at random and unscrewed the cap. I took a strong whiff; it was orange juice. I took a long pull from the container before putting the cap back on and setting it back in the fridge.
"Why did you…" he started, but trailed off slowly.
"I smell it so I can know what's in it. My sense of smell's a lot stronger now so I put it to good use," I told him grinning. I reached out for him again, brushing his arm gently. "Here, come with me," I said, tugging gently on his arm. I led him through the kitchen and living room, down the hall to my room. I could tell he was impressed that I could do this without my sight. I smiled at the warmth of my room as I opened the door. Winter was coming on and it got cold real quick where I lived. I always kept the heater running in my room because I hated the cold. I pulled my glasses off and set them on my dresser. I found my bed and told Francis to sit down. He did as he was told and I walked back out of my room across the hall.
"_!" Francis called.
"Stay put! I'm coming back," I said, walking into hall bathroom. I fumbled around a bit before I finally found what I was looking at. I grabbed it and walked back to my room.
"What's that for?" Francis asked as I sat down beside him. I rolled my eyes and opened the first aid kit.
"You, of course," I replied. "I'm not going to leave you a bloody mess." I felt around the box as tried to find antiseptic wipes. I felt tears prick at my eyes because I couldn't. I couldn't see and I was no use, once again. I sighed and felt something pressed into my hand.
"'Ere l'amour," he said. I reached up and gently felt for his forehead. I knew that the worst scratch was there. I felt dried blood under my fingers and lightly began rubbing with the wipe. He flinched as it stung slightly but besides that he stayed still. I finished cleaning the gash and carefully wiped down the rest of his face.
"Merci," Francis said. He reached up and cupped my cheek. I smiled and ran my fingers over his lip thoughtfully, feeling the gash in it.
"I'm sorry I can't do anything about your lip," I said, feeling tears at my eyes again. He leaned forward and kissed my cheek.
"You 'ave already done enough mon amour," he murmured. I felt him wrap an arm around my waist and start gently moving me. I lifted myself up and carefully moved the way he wanted me too. I finally realized I was sitting between his legs with my back pressed up against his chest. The contact was warm and comforting. I sighed as he nuzzled his nose against my neck.
"I just wish I could do more," I said, swallowing as he began kissing along my ear and throat. I felt him smile against my skin and he rubbed his hands up and down my arms. I went to open my mouth but he finally rested his hands on my shoulders and I jerked away from the contact. My shoulder ached again.
"Mmm mon amour, let me look at your shoulder now," Francis murmured, gently tugging at the sleeve of my T-shirt. I nodded and grabbed the hem of my shirt and started to pull it off. "M-mon Dieu! W-what are you doing?!" he asked hurriedly. I turned slightly so I was facing him and quirked an eyebrow.
"You wanted to see my shoulder, right?" I asked. I wasn't shy by any means. After having to go to numerous exams and check-ups, psh this was nothing and it's not like I could see anything anyways. Francis was also the last person I expected to be embarrassed.
"O-oh yes, r-right?" he stumbled over his words. I smirked and reached back down for my shirt. I pulled it off, my shoulder chastising me mildly as I lifted my arms above my head. I was still wearing my sports bra so there wasn't much to see, just the lower half of my back and if I turned around my stomach. I heard a slight intake of breath and turned my head.
"Everything alright?" I asked as I tossed my shirt aside. He must have nodded because he gently ran his fingers across my shoulder. His long fingers were cool against my back. I waited a few minutes and he rubbed pleasant circles along my shoulders blades and back. "Is it bruised?" I asked.
"Oui," he replied, "zere are a few light bluish spots, but zey're not too bad. He didn't grab you too hard." I shook my head, agreeing with his statement. I leaned forward slightly, not really even caring about my shoulder anymore. Francis was rubbing my back and was releasing enormous amount of stress and tension from the tight muscles. I hummed lightly and heard him laugh.
"So," he started," you never got to tell me what zose girls were talking about," Francis said, changing the subject as he made his was back up to my shoulder to relieve some of the aching. I tensed, however, at the mention of the two girls, blood rushing to fill my cheeks.
"W-well," I stuttered nervously, sitting up and turning bodily towards the Frenchman, "they um… they were talking about… uh…" I wasn't exactly sure how to word it. "They were arguing," I managed. Francis chuckled, and it hit me. "You already know, don't you?" I said, crossing my arms and lifting my head to try and glare at him. I could glare pretty well when I had eyesight and being blind just made it more unsettling.
"Per'aps, mon amour," he whispered, running his fingers along my arms and down to my hands. I shivered as his breath landed on my face and throat.
"Um… C-can I tell you something?" I stammered. I felt his nose rub against mine I inhaled sharply.
"Oui ma chérie?" he said, running his other hand along my jaw and throat.
"T-that kiss, last night," I mumbled, more blood coming to flood my already over-heated cheeks, "it was my first." I could smell the rose perfume that he wore; I could sense how close he was. I looked down, taking a shaky breath.
"Did you like it?" he asked, lifting my face back up. I nodded, taking my hand and playing idly with his shirt. I never got this fidgety. "May I kiss you again?" I hadn't expected him to ask my permission, but I was kind of glad he did, and I did. I wanted him to kiss me again. I swallowed and nodded again. Almost immediately, his lips were on mine. I sighed at the contact and shyly wrapped my arms around his neck.
My heart raced in my chest as we kissed over and over. I had never been this close with anyone, and this kiss was nothing compared to last night. Fire danced along my lips and skin as we pressed against each other. I was trembling slightly as he ran a few fingers down my bare back. I sighed heavily and hugged him even closer. All my senses were hyperactive because I couldn't see anything. I could feel every hair that ran through my fingers; I could smell Francis' own sweet, yet musky scent under the layer or rose perfume. I was hyperaware of his hand resting lightly on my bare waist. I eventually had to pull back, but just enough to rest my forehead against his. I was gasping for air in the small between us.
"Whoa…" I mumbled, trying to fix the snapped synapses in my brain as I played with stray strands of hair near the base of the Frenchman's neck. I heard him chuckled and he pushed some of my hair behind my ear. "So," I thought a moment, looking down and gripping gently at his shirt, "are we… dating now?" He laughed, lifting my chin and kissed my nose.
"Do you want to be dating?" he asked. I blinked, unable to see anything and hating every second. I wanted to see his eyes, to see if he was simply playing with me or if he actually meant it. I nodded, but frowned a little.
"Why? Why would you want to go out with a handicap? I'm absolutely helpless and I'm not very pretty." I said, sighing tiredly. I was surprised as lips were pressed against mine again.
"'Ush! You are beautiful and amazing! You've led me around your 'ouse and you obviously know 'ow to make it to all your classes in school. I 'ave no doubt in my mind zat you could kick some serious butt if need be wiz your walking stick. I 'ave also never seen anyone as dazzling as you. You stand out amazingly well against ze dull background of people I've seen. You are very able and very, very pretty," he said, cupping my face with his hands. I blushed and blinked back tears.
"You… you mean that?" I asked softly. He leaned forward and kissed my forehead.
"Oui mon amour, every word," he said. I smiled and hugged him. "So, we're dating?" he said. I nodded, pulling back to jump off the bed.
"Yep! I would definitely say so!" I grinned. "I didn't think I'd ever find my prince charming, I guess I just had to let him find me," I said, giggling as I searched for my shirt. Francis laughed too and asked what I was doing. "I kinda need my shirt. I wanna move this into the living room in case my dad comes home."
"Oh yea. Zat might be a good idea," he said. I could tell he was blushing at the thought of my father coming home and catching us. I found my shirt and led him back to the living room. I told him to pick a movie from the stack we kept by the TV as I plopped down on the sofa. He put one in and made his way back to me. And that's all we did until my dad came home. We watched movies, well I listened, and we talked. We did a bit of kissing, which personally, I thoroughly enjoyed. I eventually fell asleep against Francis, his arm wrapped protectively against me.
"_, I'm home," my dad said as he walked in the door. He looked around and saw me fast asleep in Francis' arms. "Well hello there. Is she out?" he asked; only half surprised to see the Frenchman.
"Oui monsieur," he replied, "she just fell asleep while we were watching movies." My daddy nodded and dropped his bags in an arm chair.
"That's what usually happens when I come home late. She's asleep on the sofa with the television still going." He walked over, a smirk tugging on his lips. "Would you mind getting her to her room?" he asked, tuning to shut the television off. Francis nodded, carefully detaching himself from my grip. He stood up and picked me up bridal style. He carried me to my room and laid me on my bed. He bent down, pressed a tender kiss to my forehead and walked out, turning the light out as he went.
"So you two official yet?" my father asked as Francis walked back into the living room. A teasing smile graced his features and the Frenchman grinned and nodded in reply.
"Yes sir. I 'ope zat's alright wiz you," he said as my father motioned for him to follow him into the kitchen.
"It's perfectly fine by me, as long as you treat her right. She's special and she may not look or act like it, but she's fragile. She needs a man who's gonna stay by her no matter what and will care for her. I know she thought she didn't have a hope of having a future after losing her eye sight, but you just happen to stumble in. She's been happier these past two days then I've seen her in months. You've brought light and happiness back into her life. Thank you," my father said, smiling at Francis. His speech though the teenager and he thought about what he'd said.
"I can do zat, and I swear I would never do anyzing to 'urt 'er. She is sweet and talented and amazing. I 'ave never met anyone like 'er," he told my father. The man smiled and patted Francis' shoulder.
"I trust you. Thank you for everything," he said. Francis smiled and shook my father's hand.
"De rien. Zank you for allowing me to date _," he replied as he was led back to the living room.
"No problem. I guess I'll be seeing you tomorrow afternoon too then?" my dad said, opening the front door.
"I believe so, yes sir," Francis said. My daddy grinned and nodded his head.
"Alright then, I look forward to seeing you. Good night Francis."
"Bonne nuit Mr. _ (l/n) See you tomorrow," he said and walked out of my house to his car. He sighed happily as he jumped in. Best night ever!