Forever yours
By: Emilio Burnfeild
Matthew didn't know what had woken him. Maybe it was the unfamiliar sounds of the road outside or the absence of his brothers snoring. He didn't know. As his eyes opened slightly he took a deep breath and felt the scent of newly washed sheets. Blue darkness and a small light tingled his iris. He closed them again and sighed deeply. He was tired and could go back to sleep at any moment. However, he felt something strange. A feeling of tenseness in the air. Like when you enter a room with two people fighting. He couldn't shake the feeling of. As he opened his eyes again he saw a figure sitting by the window. It was Francis. Matthew could tell even though he didn't have his glasses. The posture was more then familiar to him. The way Francis always crossed his legs and rested his head in his hand. Though there was something different. He didn't seem to relax. Francis back curled and he didn't move from his spot by the window.
"Francis?" Matthew voice wasn't ready to speak at this hour. It had a rough undertone and a weak sound. The boy sat up and got his glasses. Francis didn't move. He didn't even look at Matthew. His face was turned to the window. Like he was focusing on something. Matthew grabbed his sheet and put it around him as he rose from his bed. The floor was cold against his bare feet as he made his way over to the Frenchman. "Francis, why are you up? It's in the middle of the night." He didn't answer. Matthew blinked and looked closer. Was Francis sleeping sitting up? He wasn't. Though his deep breath made it seem so. His eyes followed a car crossing on the street outside.
"Sit down." Francis whispered his words in a tone Matthew couldn't comprehend. They were filled with emotion but he couldn't tell which one. The boy took the seat opposite of Francis, tucking his sheet around him. He was expecting Francis to say something. Matthew looked at him for what felt like ten minutes. He just sat silent in the pale street light, breathing deeply and looking at the streets.
"Francis, aren't you tired?" Matthew saw Francis flinch as he spoke. However, his eyes were still locked to the outside.
"Aren't you afraid of me?" Francis words hard and cold. Matthew's chest crunched as Francis' eyes met his. His vicious stare burned of hate. Matthew didn't know what to do so he just turned his face away. He didn't even have time to say or think before Francis voice cut through the air between them. "Look at me." Matthew wanted to turn his head up, but he couldn't. He wasn't afraid, he just didn't want to see those eyes. Why was Francis angry? Matthew had never seen him like this, not even when he bested Billy. Worry and confusion clung onto Matthew and his gut twisted. What was going on?
Slowly, carefully, Matthew looked up. Francis eyes had softened, but they were still far from calm. "Matthew, you know who I am. You know what I've done, so why aren't you saying anything?"
Matthew pressed his lips together and closed his hands to fists underneath the table. His mind was spinning and his pulse running. He had to say something. "I..." Matthew paused, not knowing how to continue. "I don't..." The boy felt his knees starting to tremble. He couldn't continue speaking as Francis frowned.
"Do you have any idea of what you have given yourself into?" His eyes looked judging and his words were filled with disappointment. Francis looked down on Matthew just like Arthur did the night before. Suddenly, Matthew only saw Arthur's character in Francis. This isn't what he wanted. This is nothing like Matthew had imagined. He didn't want Francis to be angry. He wanted to smile like he always did. Matthew clenched his jaw and swallowed.
"Yes." He felt stupid for admitting it. But he had to. This was insane, Matthew knew that. He straightened his back and locked his eyes with Francis'. "Yes, I do."
"No you don't!" The Frenchman roared and smashed his open hand into the table. It shook Matthew and he lost his breath for a second as Francis continued. "Matthew, you have no idea what I have done!" He growled and gritted his teeth. "You wouldn't be sitting here next to me if you knew, Matthew." Francis presence burned as if he was set aflame. He was panting, his chest and shoulders rising and falling underneath his blazing gaze. "How can you act like nothing happened? Like everything is fine?" For just a moment, Francis voice lost its power. A small vulnerability that made Matthew lose it. He saw Francis was just as insecure as he was, and yet he was screaming, as if to scare Matthew away.
"Then what should I do?!" Matthew was shaking. He felt his whole body loose stability. It was if it was about to collapse. "I-I don't know how t-to handle this okay? I just..." Matthew sighed and placed his face in his hands. He tried desperately to cover up the fact that his eyes were watering. He wasn't sad. He was angry, overwhelmed. Why was this happening to him? He bit his inner cheek because he didn't want Francis to see him drying his tears. Matthew wanted to look strong. He wanted to have control over the situation. He wanted to make everything right.
Before Matthew had time to gather himself, Francis grasped tightly around his wrists and shoved them aside with brutal force. Their gazes met and Francis spoke loudly. "The last time I saw you I held you at gunpoint! I could have shotyou right then and there! Why are you persistent in seeing me?!"
"Because I knew you wouldn't!" Matthew yelled back and looked directly at Francis. "I know you never would." The boy took an unsteady breath as Francis loosened his grip around his wrists. "I'm not scared of you, Francis." Matthew didn't manage to speak without his chest twisting in pain. It felt as if something was compressing his torso, making him unable to speak or breathe. Though Matthew's words were weak, Francis eyes shot up and his mouth opened slightly. He didn't look surprised, more like he realized something. Francis hands let go of Matthew and landed softly on the table. He didn't say anything as he looked to the outside again.
Matthew wanted him to say something. He didn't want to look at him while he was thinking. He wanted to know what Francis thought. What he thought of him. What he thought of them. Why wasn't he asking anything? Matthew frustration made him shiver even more. He just wanted to have some answers, but he didn't dare to ask. Because deep down inside he didn't really want to know. He was afraid that he couldn't handle the truth.
"Why did you go after me, Matthew?" Francis whispered, his voice low and filled with that emotion again.
Matthew looked down to kept his face somewhat hidden. He felt it redden. His heart was pounding like it was about to pop out of his chest because he knew what he wanted to say. The words were at the tip of his tongue and the end of his lips but he still couldn't manage to say them."Why do you think?" Matthew asked back weakly.
"I don't know. That's why I am asking." Silence passed.
Why was this so hard?
Matthew didn't want to have to say it. He wanted Francis just to understand. He always understood without Matthew saying anything so why couldn't he now? The boy bit his tongue till he could face up and meet Francis now sad eyes."You...You make me feel like less of a failure...You make me feel like...someone and just not anyone, Francis." Matthew breathed out and looked down again. Come on. Just do it. "You make me feel important...like I matter." His voice was dry, his words shaking. Matthew took another deep breath, staring down at the table. "Y-You are the only one who talks back to me. You...understand me when I don't even know...when I can't make sense of myself." Matthew's eyes shifted to Francis right hand. It was there, only a few centimetres from his. He wanted to hold his hand. It would be easier.
Take it. Just take it.
Matthew placed his cold fingers on Francis' knuckles. "Francis, you mean more to me then you can imagine." Matthew's sight was getting blurry as the beat in his chest was felt in his entire body. "I don't care what you have done, okay? B-Because I know that you wouldn't-" Matthew felt Francis hand moving, turning and then grasping his. The boy couldn't help his lips turning to a tiny smile as he continued. "I know you wouldn't hurt me..." Matthew's smile died and he closed his eyes. "I'm not afraid of you. I'm afraid of losing you." The slow breath Matthew took felt like concrete. He had never felt the air being this thick. Now fear had grasped onto Matthew. He was terrified of what Francis would say. Matthew took a deep breath before opening his eyes again. The boy had never seen someone with so many feelings contorted in one face at the same time. Francis was smiling, but the rest of him looked like he was hurting.
"Oh, Matthew..." He chuckled and looked down at their hands. "I never...I never knew I made you feel like that." Matthew didn't know if the darkness fooled him, but he thought Francis was pale. Like a ghost almost. Francis smiled in a melancholy way and started to move his fingers. Matthew thought he was about to let go when Francis touched Matthew's palm, but instead of pulling back he kept his fingers moving. They travelled across Matthew's hand and nails and wrist. Matthew didn't say anything. He was afraid if he did, Francis would fume up again. Suddenly, Francis' touch stopped."I'm sorry..."
A stone formed in Matthew's stomach. "For what?" He became nervous again. What was Francis going to say now? Before he had time to open his mouth, Matthew had already imagined the worst.
"I'm sorry it had to be me. That I was that person that made you feel that way." He looked up looking crushed.
"Please don't be." Francis was tense. Matthew wanted to do whatever it took to get back to the moment earlier. The calmness and the tenderness. It was what he longed for.
"Matthew, you deserve someone so much better then me." Francis shook his head .
"I don't want anyone else."
I don't want to love somebody else. That is what he wanted to say. But Matthew didn't. He was still afraid. Still embarrassed. Still so caught up in himself that he couldn't say it. Matthew wish he would have said it, because it felt as if Francis was slipping away from him.
"You will want someone else-"
"No." Matthew grasped on to Francis hand.
"I'm a murderer, Matthew."
The boy clenched his jaw and locked his eyes on the table. "I said I don't care what you have done."
"You don't know-"
"I don't need to know." Matthew wanted to silence Francis before he said something he could not handle.
"You need to know-"
"No! I don't!" Matthew clenched harder around Francis fingers.
"You said it didn't matter. Yet, you don't want to know." Matthew knew Francis was right. He didn't want to admit it. "Are you afraid that you wouldn't feel the same way if you knew?"
Pain spread in Matthew's limbs as the question sunk in. He knew he had fallen for the Francis he had seen, the Francis he have had those long talks with and bonded with. He knew nothing about the past that Francis was hiding. Would he feel different? Matthew wasn't only afraid of losing Francis, but of losing the feelings he had for him. They were so strong. He had never felt like that for anyone before. And what if he never did again? Francis had talked about the one. Was Francis the one? Was Matthew the one for Francis? It hurt to think about it. Matthew didn't want to do this any more. He just wanted things to be like they used to. Though he knew that would never happen. So he made a decision.
"Dad...Dad said you killed someone..." Matthew saw Francis backing up a bit. "I want you to tell me what happened."
-x-
Arthur drug his face. The cold sweat didn't stop. His two sons where gone. Had something happened? The apartment looked just like when he left. No sighs of an attacker. The lock had not been broken. The jeep was missing. The keys to the jeep was missing. Arthur had no belief in Alfred and Matthew taking a road trip during these circumstances. Maybe Alfred wanted to protect Matthew? It wouldn't be too odd considering he knows nothing about the law system. He might have thought Matthew was going down because of Francis. Arthur was after all coming home only to bring Matthew in to the station for interrogation. He didn't want to, but he had no choice. Arthur wouldn't let anyone else do it. He knew all too well some of his colleges were too hard on suspects. Matthew wouldn't want to experience that.
Arthur tapped his fingers on his desk and watched his phone constantly. He knew it would make sound as soon as any messages or calls would come in. Still, he didn't trust the device. He checked the service. Good. Battery at 79%. It would be enough for a couple of hours. He swallowed. Just please God let them be okay. He sighed nervously and felt his gut twist.
"Y-You know. My scooter was at the bridge. There was a reason why it was there. And...And there was a reason why I wasn't."
What was going on? Why didn't he notice? Arthur wanted to have control but right now he was hopeless. Matthew had withered to the point where he saw no other way out, and Arthur didn't notice anything. He knew something was up, and still he wasn't able to see the pain Matthew was going through. Was this because of Alfred? If he only had paid more attention to them. Unsettling memories which Arthur had tried to drown now floated up to the surface.
He remembered Alfred, sitting in the corner of his dark room. Body limp and blue as a corpse with a needle in his left arm.He remembered crying his name out, shaking him like a maniac and checking desperately for some kind of pulse. Right then and there, he thought he had lost another part of his family, another part of himself. He kept on thinking: Not him too! No Mary don't let him join you! Please let him live. God let him live! The paramedics took four minutes to arrive. Panicking and doing mouth to mouth and trying to beat a pulse into his sons pale chest made four minutes to feel like an eternity. Arthur cried, his tears didn't stop. He was sure he had lost Alfred forever. After 56 minutes and 45 seconds a nurse told him that Alfred was stable. After 5 hours 3 minutes and 44 seconds Alfred had awoken. He did not speak, he did not move, he did not see Arthur, he did not feel him holding his hand, he did not see hear him wiper next to him.
He'd never felt that scared. Never. Until now. Arthur had no idea where they could have gone. He was ashamed of that fact. He was their father. Did he even deserve that title? Matthew didn't call him dad like he used to. Probably because Arthur wasn't one in his eyes. He just wanted to protect him, to make sure that he never saw him in the same position as Alfred. And still he had failed. When Matthew had stood on the small hallway carpet that afternoon he thought a miracle had happened. Like God had forgiven him and gave him a new chance. Arthur had sworn to himself that he never would take Matthew for granted again and yet he couldn't protect him when a murderer pointed his gun at him.
Arthur felt like a sad excuse for a man, for a father. He pitied himself. Hated himself. He had no idea what to do next. He was helpless, hopeless. Somehow Arthur did not cry, he did not find the tears to. He had to be strong. He had to find them. He had to.
Arthur shook his head. He had to find a lead. Something. Anything. Why did they go? Why would they leave home so quickly and so silently? Matthew would have never agreed to anything Alfred would have come up with. Did they want to avoid him or did they do something they knew was forbidden? But what would they do that they know they weren't allowed too?
"If I tell you, then promise me I am allowed to meet Francis again."
Arthur's eyes widened. No, it couldn't be. Why would Matthew want to after all this? Arthur closed his eyes and placed his head in his hands. He remembered how Francis had pointed a gun right at Matthew. Why would he want to meet the man who could have killed him?
"No! He's a good man! He'd never do that!"
Matthew's voice was still stuck in his head. There was no way he would've still believed that. Something clicked in Arthur's mind. He remembered what Matthew said to Francis.
"What are you doing they are going to shoot you!"
Francis forced Matthew to leave.
"Relax, I'm not going to hurt him. I will stay away, okay? But if he comes to me-"
Arthur shook his head and leaned back in his chair. Francis knew they had to part. That's why Matthew didn't know where he was going. And now Matthew was chasing after him. But why did he if the police didn't even have a clue of where Francis could have gone? Arthur was disturbed in his silence by another officer.
"We found the car. It's in a parking lot a few miles from here." He handed Arthur the paper of information. As he looked at it Arthur felt a cold rush fill him. The destination was only a 3 hour ride from where he was. Why would Alfred and Matthew drive such a short distance?
Unless, they found him.
Arthur held his breath as his heart stopped. The Frenchman had been wanted for years in, and now he was within his grasp. At the same time, Matthew chose to go after him. If he would alert everyone of Francis location he would be caught within an hour. He knew where they were.
"Sir?" The officer was still standing nest to Arthur with a look of concern.
"Oh, sorry. Migraine. Thank you."
"Shall I cancel the missing report?"
"No, I'll have to find them first. I'll check this out tomorrow when the storm have eased." Arthur painted on a smile and nodded to the officer as he left. The Brit took a deep breath and furrowed his brows. Was he really about to let his sons spend the night with a murderer?
"If you can't trust your own son how do you expect him to trust you?"
He didn't like it. Not one bit. But he would resist this time. He would let this one slide. He couldn't really prove anything anyways. He didn't know for sure if they had managed to find Francis. He didn't really know what they were doing ether. Arthur knew that both Matthew and Alfred had chosen to keep it a secret. It might be for the best.
-x-
Francis took a deep breath. He didn't want to do this. But he knew he had to. He had to tell Matthew everything. He had to dig up those memories again. Unless he did, it would be unfair. Matthew had shared his every thought and feeling. It would only suffice if Francis did the same. He placed his hands in Matthew's and looked him in the eyes.
"I have to tell you from the beginning."
Matthew only nodded. Was he scared? His face seemed emotionless but his eyes were pleading. Francis lowered his gaze. Was Matthew shaking? He couldn't see it but felt it in his hand. Matthew was brave. Francis breathed out before he started to remember.
"My relationship with my father wasn't very good." Francis saw the closed up figure behind a newspaper he had long forgotten the date of. Despite his tears and his scraped knees the man didn't get up from his seat but simply told him to act like a man."I could tell he was disappointed in me. I was nothing like him. He was...strict. He wanted things to be a certain way, for me to be a certain way. I became sad at first, but then I got angry. I took my frustration out on people and I started doing things I wasn't suppose to."
"Like what?" Matthew only whispered. He was scared.
"I got into fights. It was always about stupid things but I got a kick out of it. I just wanted to...to feel something besides disappointment. To win a fight was a victory for me.. and it felt good. At least for a while. But, as time went by I got more brutal because the feeling of satisfaction disappeared. I got too used to it. The more I harm I did, the more troubles I got at home. As a result I wanted to do more bad things." Francis swallowed. The image of his mothers pale face was still stuck in the back of his head as he heard her asking over and over where he had got those bruises from. In that same memory were the disappointing eyes from his father as he shortly told him to get cleaned up before sitting down at the dinner table. Francis hated the way the way he looked at him. Like it was another failure. He felt his chest stiffen as he continued.
"But, there was someone who made me not want to do those things."
Francis saw a spark in Matthew lit.
"A girl. Michelle. She was a friend who I knew for many years. She was soft and kind. I could only be myself when I was with her. Everyone else thought I was a brute but not her. She saw right through me and scold me every time she found out I'd done something stupid." Francis smirked. "She always said I pretended to be someone else. I always responded that I fit that role better."
Matthew's shoulders sunk as he started to relax. Was it because Francis was smiling? He seemed to be controlled by Francis feelings more then his own.
"I loved her, but never in a romantic way. She never loved a man that way." Francis saw a tenderness in Matthew that made his heart ache. Michelle had looked just the same. The ache turned into a twisting pain and Francis intertwined his fingers with Matthew's. The agony that struck the Frenchman made Matthew let out a small breath.
Francis felt the world darken around him. "I joined the gang when I was sixteen. They believed in me. They gave me what I was looking for. The thrill and the love I desperately needed." Francis took a moment calm himself down. He was getting worked up and almost teary. "They weren't all bad people, Matthew. Some had only been unfortunate enough to see the French Lilly as a last resort. They had nothing left to loose. I thought so too until..." Francis had to stop. He quickly turned to the window to master his mind.
"Until I found Michelle crying on the floor in her bedroom. I tried my best to comfort her but she didn't stop crying. And..." Francis knew what was coming, and yet it hit him just as hard as the first time. His voice failed him and he had to take control of it before he continued. "And I thought it was something I had done since she didn't want me to touch her..."
Matthew's fingers grasped more tightly around Francis' hand.
"She had been raped. I didn't know by who or how but he had taken advantage of her in the most dishonorable way possible. And I just...Sorry." Francis dried the tear that fell down his cheek. He looked out into the street. He tried to hide his emotions the best way possible. "I remembered that I got so angry. I wanted to find him and hurt him...She told me it felt like a knife was plunged into her over and over again. He had harmed Michelle in such a way that I didn't know if it was possible for her to ever recover...She wasn't the same, she never smiled she never laughed. He took away her happiness. My happiness. I couldn't stand to see her that way."
Francis turned his gaze and met Matthew's eyes. He was silent but his face said it all. He didn't want to hear this.
"Do you want me to stop?" Francis asked and drug his thumb across the boy's hand.
"N-No...I want to know what happened. Continue." Matthew was trying his best to be strong but Francis knew this got to him. His hands were cold and Francis could see that he was affected by his words.
"D'accord. " Francis cleared his throat and spoke in a calm tone. "It took time. A lot of time. But, Michelle slowly began to patch herself together again. I never got to know who hurt her but it didn't matter to me as soon as she got better. It wasn't great, but it was something." Francis lowered his voice. "However, since I was spending so much time with her, the people in the gang became suspicious. The thing is, once you have joined you cannot leave...Do you know how we get the tattoo, Matthew? "
The boy only stared before he stuttered out an answer."Y-Yes."
Francis looked down at their hands and started petting him."They called it the sacrifice. It's used to make you loyal, or as I see it, make you too afraid to leave. It's only a way for them to show that they own you. That there is no way out. You think you can keep some people safe but they know. " Francis paused unwillingly. The words stuck in his throat and aching regret filled him. He felt his eyes sting and his legs numbing.
"Francis?" Matthew moved closer caressing Francis arm and giving him a worried look.
"I had no idea of what I had given myself into. They took me to a warehouse and I she was there."
Matthew finally seemed to put the pieces together. Fear shook him and made him let go of Francis completely.
"She was tied up with a muzzle in her mouth and stripped bare. They told me to have intercourse or..." Francis reached behind his back. The heavy revolver made a ting sound as he placed it down on the table. "I was given this." Francis knitted his hands together and lowered his head. He starting shaking and his entire body stung. "She was my sacrifice. I didn't know how they found out about her. I had kept her a secret. I didn't want her involved in any of this." Francis couldn't keep his breaths steady anymore. He gasped and whimpered as his tears ran down his face.
"I was terrified. I saw the look in her eyes. I couldn't put her through that again. It would break her. I could never bring myself to do something like that. I knew how much it had torn her apart. I couldn't bring that pain onto her again. She would never forgive me. I knew she never would want another man to touch her in that way and I couldn't...I tried but I couldn't bring myself to..." Francis' voice couldn't speak for him anymore. He let Matthew know how the story ended by dragging his lower lip down and showing him the mark that was still there. Matthew seemed to be chocked by the sight. The man let go of his lip and slowly laid down on the table and entwined his trembling hands into his hair.
He could still hear the gunshot and see the flashing light before her body went limp. Francis could still smell the gunpowder and still feel the jolt of the gun. Francis could still see the blood oozing from her chest. He could still hear the faint cry she made before the air fled her lungs. He could still see the way she slowly sunk lifelessly to the floor. He re-lived that disgusting moment and it made him want to puke. It made him want to take the gun on the table and place it on his temple. It made him hate himself so much that he deserved to die right then and there. He felt like an excuse for a man. Like an excuse for a human being. How could he? Why did he?
Warmth wrapped around him. A pair of arms closed him in and Francis felt Matthew's next to him.
Why was he touching him? Why was he hugging him? Why was Matthew even close to him?
Francis wanted Matthew to stay away. He didn't want to put him in danger. He didn't want to make the same mistake again.
"Francis? Francis?" Matthew's voice sounded like he was crying. He bent Francis face up. Matthew eyes glistened as he brushed his a long locks out of Francis face.
"I'm sorry." Francis whispered. "I'm sorry it had to be me."
Matthew shook his head slowly. "No." His first tear fell. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry all of this had to happen to you. You are a good man, Francis. I know you are." He took a few quick breaths before he brought Francis face into his arms. The Frenchman felt his chest shaking as he spoke. "Arthur has shot many people. He has killed people too. But, he is not evil. He did it to protect us. Because if he didn't those people would have hurt others. Francis, you saved her from all the pain." Matthew drug his hand down Francis head to his neck. "Some good men have to do bad things. Arthur told me that. You did what you had to do."
Francis relaxed his head against Matthew stomach and grasped his hands around his leg and back. "I understand if you...If you don't want to..." Francis felt himself falling apart. This was it. Matthew would never want him. No one would ever want him. It was fine, because it was what he deserved. Although it hurt so incredibly much.
"I can still love you."
Francis heart stopped.
"I don't care what anyone else thinks. Because, I know you are a good man."
Francis turned his face up to see Matthew but he was nuzzled by his neck. The Frenchman let go of Matthew and stood up. His eyes wide and his breath lost. The boy dried his cheek and shyly turned his gaze down. "Don't look so surprised." He smiled and chuckled. "I thought you knew."
Francis carefully placed his hands on the boys arms. Matthew gazed up and met Francis eyes."Still?" Francis had to see him as he said it. He had to know that Matthew really meant it. Those pale eyelashes glowed white in the moonlight as Matthew blinked silently. His mouth that had slightly opened shut and he nodded.
"Still." Francis looked intensely. He saw no doubt in those violet eyes. He heard no hesitation in his voice. Matthew suddenly had a look of worry. "Francis is something wrong?"
Francis couldn't help but smile. "Non, Matthew." He placed his hand on the boy's cheek and placed his forehead against his. Francis closed his eyes and moved his fingers to the back of Matthew's neck. "Everything is fine."
The Frenchman felt two hands on his back as Matthew whispered. "Okay."
Francis didn't know for how long they stood like that. Time seemed to slip away as he suddenly had to nod himself awake.
"Francis, are you falling asleep?" Matthew caught Francis by the shoulders and steadied him.
The Frenchman massaged his eyes and sighed. "Mm...Let's go to bed."
"Okay." Matthew giggled sweetly before Francis took his hand. Their fingers twinned together and Matthew took the bed sheet he had carried with him and lead them to the bedsides. Somehow, Francis felt that the floor was colder then before. There was a chill in the room he had not seemed to notice. Matthew sat down on his bed and Francis remembered the revolver on the table.
"I just need to-" Francis stopped mid sentence. There was no need for him to explain. He kissed Matthew's hand softly before he let go. He put the gun away in a drawer. Having it in sight only made him uncomfortable. When he turned back to Matthew he saw that he already had snuggled up under his sheet. His messy hair and sleepy eyes only added to his innocence. Francis sighed and told himself to stop analyzing how Matthew looked all the time. As the Frenchman sat down Matthew drug his arm out and pinched the end of his shirt.
"Yes, Matthew?"
The boy turned his gaze away and let go as soon as Francis had spoken. "Um... I just wondered if...since it's so cold if you...um..." Matthew's face turned red and he smiled.
"Yes." Francis said before he could ask and joined him.
D'accord: Okay
Non: No
