"Mathieu! ARRÊT!"
Francis grabs Mathew by the wrist, forcing him to a stop. Mathew whirls to face him angrily , and for a moment, he's fueled with the desire to hit Francis, but he restrains himself, but he can still feel the maliciousness boiling in his chest as Francis speaks.
"You cannot continue to run away, Mathieu! You need to talk to talk to them! Both of them!"
Francis is being painfully honest, but Mathew hates it. He's furious for a number of reasons, but the one foremost in his mind is the way Francis manipulated him into saying the terrible things he felt, the emotions and nasty thoughts he wanted to hide until he dies. He's angry at Francis' interference, and he's scared of facing both Arthur and Alfred. The fear twists in his chest into something boiling mc angry. There's one thought racing through his mind, and he can't stop himself from hissing it at Francis.
"You have no right to do that to me!"
Mathew doesn't even try to control his tone as he snaps at Francis. There's no point to it anymore anyways. Mathew knows it's pointless to try to hide anything now. Because of Francis, there's no one left he can hide it from. That's why he let's himself show his anger.
"You had no right to let Arthur eavesdrop!"
Everything is crashing down around him. Everything Mathew worked so hard to maintain, everything he sacrificed is pointless now, all because of Francis. The wall he's built to hid his emotions is broken, and all he can think is that Arthur knows. Arthur knows Matthew's dirty side, how Mathew treats even his own twin, the jealousy and the bitterness and the nastiness Mathew tries so hard to supress around Arthur is pointless now.
Francis is still holding Matthew's wrist, firmly, and Mathew can't read any regret in his face. Instead, Francis looks angry, and Mathew flares up. Francis has no right to be angry, not when he manipulated Mathew in that way. Not when he forced Mathew to show his true self to Alfred, to face a reality he's been trying so desperately to avoid. Not when Francis hid with Arthur just around the corner and listened to the whole thing.
Mathew wants to snort derisively at the him from before, who was so desperate for Francis's love advise. What nonsense. Francis, known as the best person at relationships, is nothing but a fraud. No one who truely empathized with someone else would have done something like that. A love expert wouldn't have broken Mathew like that. Mathew meets Francis's gaze coldly, boiling with a righteous fury that only grows when Francis half-yells st him, like he's scolding a disobedient child.
"You need to stop 'iding!"
Francis demands, his exasperated tone only adding to Matthew's boiling wrath.
"You can't fix your relationship with either of them if you won't face the truth!"
Mathew wonders if Alfred would be able to accept this advice from Francis, if his twin would be able to easily forgive and forget. But no, Alfred apparently isn't the "good" person Mathew always pictures him as, so maybe Alfred would fly of the handle in this situation, and attack Francis. Matthew's face twists into a look he's sure is wicked and cruel. Mathew wants to attack Francis, to give Francis a black eye and swollen lip like the blows the two brothers dealt each other, to the point where he can't show his stupidly handsome face in public, where he can't use his lying lips to deceive anyone else. To the point where he can't hurt anyone else.
But Matthew's anger is the quiet type, coldly malicious rather than violently hot, and Mathew unleashes his anger in words colder than dry ice.
"What do you know, Francis?"
Francis looks even more frustrated, and opens his mouth like he'd like to retort, but Mathew won't give him the chance. There's a festering anger that's been growing in Matthew's heart since long before he'd had any relationship with Alfred or Arthur. Its a resentment spilling over from another relationship the "love expert" never bothered to fix, one Mathew can't forgive.
"What right do you have to tell me how to talk to my family?"
Mathew chooses his words carefully with the intent to hurt, and he can tell its working. Francis's eyes widen, and he takes a half-step back as he realizes what Mathew is about to say. Mathew won't stop.
" You chose your family long ago."
Francis, who gave Mathew up all those years ago, flinches as Mathew let's his next words fall.
"I'm not part of it."
It's the first time Matthew's seen someone with such large eyebrows, or heard someone who spoke in such a clipped British accent. It's foreign to him, so used to the delicate features and musical French accent of Francis. He's a little intimidated to be honest, and he shrinks behind Francis' leg. The British man crouches down to Matthew's level, his pleasant smile never fading.
"Hello Mathew, my name is Arthur. I'm going to be your new older brother."
Mathew swivels his head up to read Francis expression to see if he's understood correctly. He's still learning English and Mathew isn't sure he's understood the words right. Francis offers him a smile, and nods to Mathew encouragingly, so Mathew accepts the information and steps forward to tentatively introduce himself in a thick French accent.
" Allo. J'appelle Mathieu. Enchanté."
The Englishman's gave lights in a beam that makes even timid Mathew smile back shyly, and Mathew looks back to Francis one more time for confirmation that he's doing it alright. He catches the last flashes of Francis' expression changing back to a smile, and Mathew knows, somewhere in the back of his mind that something isn't right.
But Arthur is so friendly, and funny, and even though he can't seem to cook at all, his flustered expression as Francis kicks him out of the kitchen makes Mathew break out into peals of laughter, which causes the stranger to pout in return. When Mathew works up the courage to force out the English words "Big Bruzer" in a childish lisps, both Arthur and Francis look like they forgot how to breathe. Mathew isn't worried about having a new older brother. He knows lots of kids that have more than one sibling, so he doesn't think anything will change.
By the time he realizes it has, and to what extent, it's already too late.
Francis steps back as though he's been slapped, and somehow Mathew can't feel triumphant at his win. Instead, he feels like he's slapped himself, and it doesn't take him long to figure out why. Not just Alfred, or Arthur, but now Francis. How many more people will he hurt? How many more times will he hurt himself, too? Mathew feels like he's choking on something, and he doesn't know what to do to get rid of the feeling.
The relief comes in the unexpected form of an attack, and Francis retreats another step back, putting a hand to his cheek, just beginning to redden from Arthur's slap.
"Art'ur?"
Francis looks shocked, and Mathew is too. It doesn't make sense for Arthur to be here, not when Mathew saw him comforting Alfred only a few minutes before, but he can't deny the truth as Arthur stands next to him, shaking his hand as though it stings.
"You wanker! You bloody idiot! You absolute arse!"
Arthur is angry, and Mathew stares uncomprehendingly at Arthur's flushed face and red eyes, before trailing his gaze down to Arthur's shaking fists. Arthur looks like he's been crying, but Mathew doesn't want to believe it's possible. He hasn't seen Arthur cry, not since Alfred left him. Arthur only cries for Alfred. Never for Mathew. But there are tearstains on Arthur's cheeks as he raises his hand as though to hit Francis again, and Francis cringes away.
"You complete buffoon, why would you do that! That... No one... That didn't help anyone you idiot!"
Mathew watched Arthur's eyes that were shining with unshed tears in a daze as Arthur yelled at Francis, a strange feeling uncurling in his chest. Arthur hadn't wanted to listen either. So why had he? Arthur wasn't the nosy type, in fact, his quickness to back off and reluctance to pry was something Mathew considered to be one of Arthur's weaknesses. After all, if Arthur had investigated a little more back before Alfred left, he would have realized what was happening. Maybe he would have listened, maybe things would have changed.
Mathew heart twinges as he remembers Alfred's words. "I've never been in love with Arthur." No, Mathew knows that nothing would have changed. Alfred would never accepted Arthur's feelings. Arthur would never have accepted his rejection. Mathew wonders if Francis knows this too, if this is why he chose to take Alfred's side all those years ago. Mathew wonders who's side Francis is taking now.
"Non." Francis responds to Arthur's outburst calmly, despite his disheveled appearance and the bright red slap mark on his face. "It did 'elp. None of you will talk to each other. That's why none of you can understand each other."
And suddenly, Mathew finds himself looking straight into Francis' s strangely deep and pained eyes.
"Mathieu, you're right. I don't 'Ave the right to tell you what to do, I gave that right up, but even so-"
Mathew feels a shaking in his heart, a premonition of something he's not sure he's ready to hear. Francis continues speaking, and a single tear rolls down his face.
"- this meddlesome older brother wants you to be happy."
Mathew feels lost. Almost instinctively, he looks to Arthur for the answer. He's waiting, Mathew realizes, for Arthur to give him an order. He's waiting for Arthur to tell him what to do again, like he always has. Arthur seems to realize it too, and Mathew sees something that's more than just a mix of sorrow and chaos in Arthur's eyes when Arthur speaks.
"Mathew, my boy, isn't it about time you stopped doing what you were told, and start doing what you want?"
There's a sense of loss in Arthur's words, but also a freedom Mathew doesn't know how to control. Arthur's last request, a hypothetical handing over of the reigns to Mathew. With these words, Arthur is refusing to govern Matthew's life anymore. He's asking Mathew to make his own choices.
Mathew doesn't know what the choice he wants to make is.
