Chapter Six

First Impressions

Arthur stormed into the house angrily. He didn't feel like repressing his paranoia tonight, and now Francis arranged dinner with Feliks and Toris. True, Toris was their friend, but Francis should've at least asked him before he went inviting them into his home.

"What the hell was that?" Arthur demanded, blocking his husband from entering the kitchen.

Francis crossed his arms. "All I did was invite them to dinner."

Arthur crossed his arms as well. "You could've at least asked."

Francis shrugged. "I did, and they said yes."

"Not them," Arthur argued, "you could've asked me."

Francis let out a long sigh and tried to push his way past Arthur, who didn't budge. "Arthur, you're being paranoid."

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "You say that like I don't realize it. I know I'm being paranoid!"

"Then stop it." Francis stated like it was simple, and turned around, heading for the bathroom.

Arthur dropped his hands to his sides, clenching his fists in anger. "It's not that simple." He growled, following his Frenchman.

Francis glanced over his shoulder. "Listen, Arthur, you trust Toris, oui?"

"Yes."

"And you trust his judgement?" Francis added.

Arthur rolled his eyes, already knowing where Francis was headed with his argument. "Yes, and I know what you're going to say."

Francis turned around with a smile. "Do you now?"

"Yes," Arthur began, "you're going to remind me how well Toris can read people, and you will remind me on how much I trust Toris and his judgement, then you're going to tell me that I have nothing to worry about because of my trust in Toris and his decisions."

Francis stared at Arthur for a moment. "We've had this talk too many times,, haven't we?"

Arthur nodded. "Yes, Francis."

"Alright, I'll go in a different direction." The blonde haired Frenchman started, "Why are you paranoid about Feliks?"

Arthur sighed heavily. "You ask that like there's an easy answer." He groaned, "Francis, I don't know why I'm paranoid about him, I just am."

"There has to be a reason-"

"For someone who has paranoia, no there doesn't." Arthur interrupted, raising his eyebrows and crossing his arms to emphasize his point.

"What do you mean there's no reason?" Francis exclaimed, "This paranoia must've come from somewhere."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "I don't know where my paranoia sparked from."

"The war?"

Arthur shrugged. "If so, I don't know why. I trusted everyone in our regiment without even knowing them, just because we were all fighting a common enemy."

"Even Alistair?" Francis asked.

Arthur blinked. "He's my brother, I can only trust him so much, but yes, I did."

Francis hummed in thought. "Maybe it developed from your childhood. You said you and your brothers never got along, so you couldn't really trust them. You said your father was strict, so you didn't along with him, so you couldn't trust him. The only person you could've really trusted was your mother."

Arthur shook his head. "Although my brothers and I never got along, I still trusted them, especially in teenage years when we all matured. My father was strict, but I knew I could trust him with anything, and I could trust my mum with anything as well."

Francis narrowed his eyebrows. "If you could trust your parents with basically anything, why are we here instead of England?"

"Because of you," Arthur began, "my parents are trusting, and pretty accepting, but not this accepting. I don't think Mum and Dad would like it if I came home with another man."

Francis shrugged. "Good point."

"Anyway," Arthur said, drawing Francis back on topic, "helping me find the source of my paranoia won't help me right now."

Francis glanced away for a moment before he looked back to Arthur. "Then what will?"

Arthur looked away from Francis, thinking hard. He never tried to figure out what would help his paranoid thoughts, he just always repressed them until he finally realized that there was no need to worry. He began to analyze the situation. He never really liked things being too spontaneous, which was exactly what this was; a spontaneous decision to invite Toris and Feliks over.

Arthur sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "Maybe next time plan it out with me? I mean, you have to agree, this was pretty spontaneous."

"Okay-"

"And give me some time in advance to think about it?" Arthur added.

"How much time?" Francis asked.

Arthur shrugged. "A day or so?"

"A day in advance." Francis echoed, "See, we can work with this."

"I know, Francis. We've been working with it for five years." Arthur groaned.

Francis gingerly brushed Arthur's bangs out of his face. "No, we've been living around it. You just need to stop worrying so much."

Arthur closed his eyes. He wanted to rant to Francis on how he can't stop himself from worrying, but he wasn't in the mood for it. Besides, he had to wash up and straighten up the house, first impressions are everything, after all.

.

Feliks was unsure how to think about tonight. First impressions were everything, and he didn't want to mess up. He stood in his bedroom, deciding whether or not the shirt he was wearing was too formal, which he wanted to look both formal and casual.

Feliks groaned, "You're stressing about this way too much." He told himself, "It's not like this is a wedding you're going to, it's just dinner."

Although his attempt to reassure his nerves, it didn't work. He sighed, finished buttoning up his red shirt, slipped on a pair of pants followed by shoes, and exited his room. He's never been an easily-stressed-out-guy, but he's always been awkward and shy around strangers, which he wanted to pretend that he wasn't. Feliks walked into the restroom, and ran a brush through his hair.

Once again, Feliks felt like a worried young teenage girl going on her first date, desperately trying to make sure she looked nice, but not too nice. He set the brush on the counter and stared at himself for a moment, his eyes traveling down to his covered left arm. He pulled up his sleeve, staring at the two numbers that he allowed his sleeve show, the sounds of Toris moving in his room muffling and fading out of mind.

There was a knock on the bathroom door. "Feliks?"

Feliks jumped, throwing down his sleeve and flinging the door open with wide eyes. He opened his mouth so he could speak, but he instead cleared his throat and cocked his head to the side, staring Toris in the eye. "Yes?" He asked, trying to act calm and casual, but it didn't work.

"Are you alright? I called your name a couple times." Toris explained.

Feliks waived his right hand in dismissal. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine Toris," he reassured, "I just wasn't paying attention, I didn't notice that you called my name. I'm sorry if I worried you."

Toris shook his head. "It's fine, Feliks."

Feliks slipped out of the restroom, squeezing through the small space between Toris and the doorframe. "I'll just let you have the restroom now."

"I would've moved out of your way." Toris replied after Feliks successfully squeezed by him.

"Nope, you're fine." He said, turning and walking awkwardly down the hall, begging that Toris wasn't suspicious of his sudden strange behavior. But then again, Feliks had noticed that Toris was often confused by Feliks' behavior or jokes, and yet he does not question.

Feliks then realized that he was standing in the kitchen, aimlessly staring at the oven. He let out a long sigh, trying to figure out why he entered the room. But his mind was jumbled today, and he wondered how that would later affect his dinner with the strange family of four that lived across the street. He turned around and paced to the dinner table, sitting in front of the chicken and potatoes he and Toris prepared to bring over.

"Are you alright?" Toris asked from the entrance to the hallway.

Feliks nodded.

"Are you sure?"

Feliks nodded again. "I'm just nervous."

"There's no reason to be nervous, Feliks," Toris reassured, "Francis and Arthur are very kind people. Arthur is just a little paranoid and protective."

Feliks leaned back in his chair, looking at Toris over his shoulder. "Thank you for the reassurance."

Toris shrugged. "You're welcome." Toris paused, "Are you ready to go?"

Feliks stood up, grabbing the plate of potatoes. "Yes."

"Then let's go." The Lithuanian replied, taking the plate of chicken.

Feliks followed Toris out of the house and across the street. He watched Toris knock on the door, and without hesitation, open it and walk in. Feliks then understood what kind of friendship Toris, Francis, and Arthur actually had, the three of them letting each other just walk into their houses unannounced.

"Let me help you with that, Toris." Arthur said, walking up.

"No, Arthur, it's fine, I got it." Toris insisted.

Arthur turned to Feliks. "Need any help?"

Feliks shook his head. "I'm pretty sure I got it, but thank you."

Arthur shrugged. "No problem. How are you two tonight?"

"I'm well, Arthur." Toris answered.

Feliks smiled. "I'm pretty fabulous right now, how are you?"

Arthur drew his eyebrows together. "You're…?" He shook his head, "nevermind, I'm well, Feliks."

Feliks chuckled, setting the plate down on the table, directly next to the chicken that Toris had previously set down. He noticed that Toris had walked off into the kitchen to talk with Francis, so he decided to stay in the dining room with Arthur.

"Where are your sons?" Feliks asked as he noticed they weren't in sight.

"Francis' sons are in their room studying." Arthur replied.

"Studying what?"

Arthur glanced to the kitchen. "Polish and English."

"They're learning two languages at once? That has to be hard." Feliks commented.

Arthur shrugged. "They seem to be doing fine with it. Today I told them to study Polish."

Feliks cocked his head to the side. "What's their first language?"

"French." Arthur answered without hesitation.

"Do you speak French?"

Arthur nodded.

"How many languages do you know?" Feliks asked.

Arthur glanced at him. "English, French, Polish, Norwegian, and some Romanian."

"How'd you learn Norwegian and Romanian?"

Arthur closed his eyes and paused for a long moment. "My friends."

"Are they-"

"I'm going to go get the boys, dinner's ready." Arthur interrupted, walking down the hall quickly.

Feliks stared after him. Dammit! He thought, I already got on his bad side, somehow… He looked to the kitchen and saw Francis and Toris walking out and sitting down at the table. Feliks followed their actions, sitting down next to Toris, and across from Francis.

"How are you, Feliks?" Francis asked almost immediately.

"Fabulous, how are you?" He replied.

Francis chuckled. "Beautiful as ever!"

Feliks got the feeling that he and Francis would get along very well. "Well that's good."

"I know, I don't know what I would do if I wasn't beautiful anymore!" Francis exclaimed.

"Oh, God, I don't want to know how you'll react when you're old and wrinkled." Arthur commented, walking up to the table with his sons.

"I will never be old and wrinkled!" Francis countered, "I'll be young and beautiful forever!"

"Really? Did you drink from the fountain of youth?" Arthur replied sarcastically.

"Why, yes I did."

Feliks saw Arthur walk around the table and behind Francis. "Then what's with this grey hair?" He asked, holding a thin strand of hair that Feliks thought was blonde.

"What?" Francis yelled.

Arthur laughed, sitting down beside him. "You're so gullible."

"I am not gullible!" Francis argued.

"Yeah you are." Alfred added, sitting down, Matthew sitting beside him.

Feliks laughed. "I'd say you're gullible, Francis, I mean, if your son can tell…"

Francis narrowed his eyes. "So I can see that Arthur already convinced you to stay on his side. How'd he manage that?"

Feliks shrugged, hoping that he sensed Francis' joke correctly. "He bribed me."

Francis looked from Feliks to Arthur. "You bribed him! With what money?"

Arthur shrugged. "The money I've been hiding from you for five years."

"Where?" Alfred asked jokingly.

Arthur turned his attention to Alfred. "Well, if I'm hiding it, then why would I tell you?"

"Because I'm not Papa, and Mattie and I can keep a secret." Alfred answered, "Especially Matthew."

Feliks turned to Matthew, seeing an offended expression form on his face.

Arthur glanced from person to person, narrowing his eyes. "I'll tell you later." He whispered.

Alfred pumped his fist. "Yes."

"Feliks, can I have your plate?" Toris asked.

Feliks turned to the sound of his name. "Oh, sure thing." He handed over the plain white plate, and Toris served him some chicken and potatoes.

"So, Feliks," Francis began, serving himself food, "how long have you been a tailor?"

Feliks paused to think. "I've been tailoring since I was a teenager, but I've owned my current shop for about four years."

"What about before your current shop?" Toris asked kindly.

Feliks swallowed hard, I was dying from hypothermia, he thought. "I had one for about a year, but it was destroyed in the war." He took a bite of food, giving Arthur and Francis a discretely nervous glance. He saw Arthur's eyes narrow slightly, sensing his lie. "What about you four? How long have you been working on Tim's ranch?"

Arthur paused for a moment, staring into Feliks' eyes suspiciously. "We've been working for Tim for five years now."

Feliks blinked. "All four of you?"

"We need the money, so, yes." Francis answered, Feliks noticing that he was giving Arthur a look. Arthur glanced back to Francis without a word.

"So, you've had your shop for four years," Arthur recalled, "and it's already very popular in the town." He added.

Feliks shrugged. "Like I said, I did some tailoring before the war, and I worked for a tailor as a teenager, after, of course, I moved off my parents' farm."

"You're parents were farmers?" Toris asked.

"Yes, wheat farmers." Feliks answered.

"After the war," Arthur began, pulling Feliks back onto the uncomfortable topic of the war, "how'd you get the money for your current shop?"

Feliks sighed. "I did some work for Tim on his ranch, actually," he said in a matter-of-fact tone, "raised some money for myself, found the shop all old and broken down, so I fixed it up, and now here we are."

Arthur gave him a suspicious stare before he continued eating his dinner.

"Well I'm glad you were able to raise the money for yourself." Francis replied, nudging Arthur, who gave him a slight glare.

Feliks wondered if Arthur's hostility towards Francis was because of him, or because of some family dispute. He hoped Francis and Arthur weren't having any relationship problems, or anything of that sort.

Arthur turned to Toris, "How was work, Toris?" he said, Feliks sighing in relief at the change of subject.

Toris smiled. "Work was normal today."

"So you weren't locked in this time?" Francis questioned, making himself, Arthur and Alfred laugh.

Toris chuckled. "No, no, not this time."

Feliks was sure that he was missing information. "This time?" He asked.

Toris groaned, rubbing his eyes. "This one time, I was cleaning an older woman's house, and she locked me in. I didn't notice until I was finished with the room, though."

Feliks narrowed his eyes. "What did you do?"

"I... climbed out the window." Toris said awkwardly.

Feliks laughed. "Some old woman locked you in her house?"

Toris nodded. "Yes, I know it's hard to believe, but it happened." He shrugged, "I wasn't hurt or anything, but I never went back there."

"People are crazy." Feliks concluded.

Arthur groaned. "Trust me, I know." He looked at Francis, narrowing his eyes.

Francis laughed. "Je sais que tu m'aimes."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "No, I put up with you."

Toris and Alfred laughed, while a hurt expression appeared on Francis' face. "You're cruel with your words." He said.

Arthur rolled his eyes again, crossing his arms, although a small smirk appeared on his face. Feliks raised an eyebrow, but decided not to ask about whatever joke Francis and Arthur had made.

Most of the night continued like this, Francis and Arthur playfully bantering back and forth, Feliks, Toris, and Alfred joining in with it, laughing and having fun all night. Feliks noticed multiple times that Matthew would playfully glare at a rude comment from Alfred, or grin while everyone else was laughing and joking. Once, Matthew even gave Alfred a playful kick in the shin, earning a snort of laughter from his parents.

Feliks listened to a couple of humorous war stories from Francis, Arthur, and even one from Toris. He learned that both Arthur and Francis had three brothers, but neither one of them were sure where they were anymore. Feliks told them about his German cousins, earning another suspicious look from Arthur, so he quickly dropped the subject.

But, even with the occasional suspicious glances from Arthur, Feliks had a fun night, and he felt more accepted in the neighborhood. He had began to make friends with Toris' friends, although they were still a bit weary of him.

Feliks laid in his bed, in a completely dark room, the only light coming from the window. He knew that eventually he would have to tell Toris, Francis, Arthur, Alfred and Matthew of his sad, tragic past, for there was only so long that he could keep it in. He sighed and rolled over. For some reason he couldn't get comfortable, so he knew that he'd get little sleep tonight.

"You'll tell Toris soon, Feliks, just… wait a little." He told himself as he repositioned in his bed, closing his eyes.


Translations:

Je sais que tu m'aimes (French)- I know that you love me.

I am so, so, so, so, so sorry that I took so long to update DX! This chapter was a last-minute decision on my part, originally this dinner scene was going to take place a few chapters from now, so I didn't have it completely planned out when I decided to move it forward.

Anywho, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, although I believe this came out choppy and rushed (although it took me so long to make it), so I apologise. Here you get a bit more into Arthur's mind and his paranoia, along with Feliks finally getting to know Francis, Arthur, Alfred and Matthew better! Yay!

Once again, I apologise deeply about the horrifically-long wait, but I finally finished! I hope you enjoy this chapter!

~Feliks Out (^J^)