Åttende august:
France:
1908
-It's rare for you to come to Europe, Alfred.
-Francis, I respect the diplomatic bonds between our people, but I'm going to shoot you if you move one more inch closer.
Francis pouted, the boy used to have charm and not mind his Big Brother's hugs.
USA:
1908
Alfred breathed in the scent of Europe, and secretly wished that it'd been England he smelled, not Continental Europe, more specifically France (and that was as spefic as he managed), but he'd wanted to check out the racecourse at Le Mans. Arthur had called out of the blue and told him that he'd heard, from his "fairy friends", that there was one particular performance he would want to catch.
Normally, he would've dismissed a call like that, but Arthur had always had mysteriously good intel.
And it was nice being here, the only downside being the French whom just now came walking towards him.
Alfred'd stopped caring for Francis' hugs, after the hundreth time he'd caugth him with his hands on his ass.
Author's notes
Two more days until I start school.
August 8th, 1908 was the Wright Brothers' first public flight, at a racecourse at Le Mains.
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