Ch. 10:
For the next few weeks the two enjoyed each other's company, they'd take turns cooking breakfast, they'd go on walks and watch movies, they'd talk about the things they loved, they spend time with Gilbert and Antonio usually during lunch, then they'd spend the night together. Francis could never get enough of Matthew, he always needed to touch him, to hold his hands, to kiss him, the Canadian once joked that Francis had become addicted to him. Francis had replied he was right, and for some reason it made Matthew go quiet.
Gilbert told him that exact reason the next day.
"July's almost over," he had told his friend, "Remember? Matthew's leaving at the end of month. And so are we."
Those words had stabbed Francis but he pretended not to notice the time dwindle by, pretended not to notice the sad sigh Matthew released when he thought Francis wasn't looking. But no matter what they did time kept on going, until they had only one day left and there was no way to ignore it.
"We need to celebrate," Francis decided one night, lying over Matthew as they caught their breath.
"Celebrate what," the boy breathed, holding Francis tighter than usual.
"Believe it or not Mathieu but mine meeting you is something to celebrate," Francis replied, burying his face in Matthew's shoulder, "And I know just what to do."
Despite his leaving hanging over him like a dark cloud Matthew couldn't help the bubble of laughter when he saw Francis's 'surprise'.
The old ice skating rink where they spent their first day, it was fitting, if a little tragically ironic.
"Are you sure," Matthew asked as they each pulled on a pair of skates.
"Of course, darling," Francis replied, sounding determined but anxious. "I will not have frozen water make a mockery of me. Besides-" he smiled warmly at Matthew, "This is for you."
Matthew willed the tightness in his throat to go away, he would not ruin his last day with Francis, he would not ruin the last day with the best thing that had ever happened to him.
Stepping out onto the ice, Matthew, as usual, felt right at home. But Francis was holding onto his arm with an iron grip.
"I'll teach you properly this time," Matthew assured, taking both of Francis's hands in his, "Remember falling is part of the learning."
"I'm sure," Francis snorted, "But I think I've fallen enough here."
Matthew chuckled and started to run Francis through the steps, all the while keeping a strong grip on his hands.
"Be sure to shift your weight," Matthew ordered as he noticed Francis wobbling less and less.
"Am I improving," Francis swallowed, looking adorably unsure of himself.
Matthew smiled, "You're doing great."
"You're not just saying that to make me feel better are you," Francis asked.
Matthew laughed softly, "I wouldn't lie to you, Francis."
"W-what are you doing," Francis demanded a few minutes later when Matthew started to slowly slide his hands out of Francis's grip.
"I think you're ready," Matthew said.
"No, no, Mathieu," Francis begged, sounding panicked. "Don't let me go."
Those words squeezed Matthew's chest and he took a shuddering breath before giving Francis an assuring smile, "I have to."
I have to.
He released Francis who shut his eyes tight, waiting for impact, only…it didn't come. Matthew laughed at Francis's shocked look as he didn't slip.
"I did it," he murmured, cautiously sliding across the ice, "I did it!"
Matthew let out a happy whoop as he watched the Frenchman slide across the ice, but despite his happiness for Francis's accomplishment he couldn't help but feel a little hurt that he no longer needed Matthew. Like learning how to skate was the only thing that kept them together…
Suddenly Francis crashed into him, wrapping his arms around Matthew's waist and laughing as they spun around.
"W-what are you doing," Matthew asked, trying to recover from the surprise attack.
"Just because I can make it without you Mathieu doesn't mean I want to," Francis replied, then smiled warmly, "I'd rather fall with you then skate alone."
Why must Francis say something as poetic, and romantic, and sweet as that? Did he want Matthew to burst into tears in front of this entire crowd? He buried his head in Francis's shoulder, refusing to let go when Francis tried to escape his grip.
"Mathieu," he breathed, confused.
"S-sorry," Matthew tried to speak past the lump in his throat, "Just…just let me stand like this for a while."
Francis's arms wrapped around his shoulders, "Of course, darling."
They didn't leave until the rink closed. Matthew held Francis's hand tightly, so scared of letting go.
Francis stopped suddenly, "You're brother is probably wondering where you are."
"M-maybe," Matthew replied, knowing his brother was also spending his last night with Arthur.
"You should go and check on him," Francis replied quietly.
Matthew looked at Francis, his throat tight and feeling rejected after hearing those words, "Come with me."
Francis opened his mouth to reply, but no words came out, he closed his mouth; then sighed, "Mathieu…"
"Please," Matthew begged, holding Francis's hands, this moment felt so final and he realized that he wasn't just asking Francis to return to the hotel with him, "Come with me."
"…I can't," he replied sadly after what felt like an eternity of woeful silence, "I need to return to my friends…we'll be leaving soon too."
Matthew stared desperately at Francis for a moment, until he felt the Frenchman try to subtly slip his hands out of Matthew's grip, Matthew dropped his hands.
"I'm sorry," Francis breathed.
Matthew nodded his eyes on the ground and his chest heavy, "I am too."
He turned and left.