Now, I never fell asleep that night… but that doesn't mean I never saw darkness…
Chapter 6- That Boy #2
(John's POV)
Again. I woke up thrashing, again. Except this time, my shrieks ricocheted through everything inside of Laf's room. Instead of mentally slapping myself for being too loud, I actually left the red mark physically across my speckled cheeks.
My mother always said that they were the ashes of a new beginning that danced against my skin. I used to believe her. Until both the accidents happened. I hated fire ever since. It doesn't burn to create. It burns to destroy. So I didn't want the remanence of its victims scattering my face.
The room was that dark that my eyes began to form their own light in tiny dots. They couldn't cope with the fact on how I could see nothing… Couldn't cope with the thought of darkness… And even though my vision caught nothing to report on, I didn't need sight to know my eyes were wider than saucers. With every forceful, lungful of stuffy oxygen, a coat of cold sweat dribbled in streaks at the top of my forehead. My figure was completely paralyzed, sat up right and stiff. The sheets were victims to my cobra-like clutch. Again, I didn't need sight to know my hands were completely pale with lack of blood.
I heard no shuffling in the house. Nothing.
I didn't wake them up…
As that thought tried to sit in my mind, I slowly loosened up… slowly…
I could still practically hear Mary downstairs once my mind began to untangle.
This isn't a dream. You're safe…
The minutes were deceived as hours against the hands on my internal clock. The uneven breathes slowed with force though heart still raced.
"Okay… Come on John… You can stand up… Three… Two… One…" I muttered to only myself. On insecure limbs, I managed to claw my way to the unsteady base of my foot. I didn't need sight to tell me that the room began to spin on a merry-go-round. I still didn't like the darkness… but it was better than light… the opposite of fire… flames… and destruction… In the darkness, you didn't see anything other than fuzzy outlines. Nothing was truly real. You didn't have anything there to worry you farther…
My lungs flooded with two profound breaths before stumbling in the direction of the door of the bathroom. Soon enough the handle fell between my fingers. There was no point in turning on the light. For one: it would just wake up Laf: two, I didn't need to see anything… want to see anything…
In a clumsy mess, my hands fumbled for the faucet, splashing the delicate contents to the tear sodden cheeks of my being. I could swear that in the repeated splashes to my face, I could actually feel the dirt and sweat stream away. Just remembering to breathe, I gasped accidentally taking water with a splutter. A very loud splutter…
"John?"
Dammit.
"John?"
Swiftly the light to the bathroom was blinding in fuzzy stars, painfully lodging its usual stabs at my retinas. In shock, I had to bite my lips to restrain hissing towards the white orb- I wouldn't be surprised if it was out of guilt too.
"What are you doing?" After what felt like years paralyzed, just staring myself down in the mirror, I pivoted my figure towards the open door, to where Laf stood with bagged eyes.
"I… I…" Was all my hoarse throat could muster.
"Are you alright, mon amie?"
"I- I- I didn't mean to wake you up… I- I just had a bad dream is all…" I gulped harder, silently praying that he wouldn't press farther.
"Another one?" His tall figure took steps closer towards my body. I'm wasn't sure why but I was so anxious. If 'anxious' was even a word for the situation.
"I… Y-Yeah…"
"For a moment, his deep, brown eyes examined me for a second- sympathy etched over their glossy layer. "Come on John, it's three A.M, we need to go back to sleep." Mary confirmed it.
Relief surged through me with a subtle sigh and a nod. Somehow after walking into the dark I let a tiny smile crawl to my lips. Minding to not trip over my flimsy feet, I gently lowered down to the air-bed laid out on the floor.
Mary was the only thing to sound through the house. Our room buzzed with a silence that you could hear a pin drop from the other side of the street, so there was no doubt that I heard the taller boy suck in a breath- immediately letting it go and deciding not to speak.
"What?" I asked, shuffling to sit up and face him (or more like the black coated room).
"What?" He questioned back a little too hastily.
"You were about to say something. What was it?" My spine straightened up, ruffling the sheets in the process.
"I- err… it- it was nothing." I didn't need sight to know he was letting his eyes dart about the room trying to find an answer. I don't think he realized that there wasn't a point. Firstly: there was no light draping the room so therefore- nothing to see. Secondly: as much as we all wish answers were there for us, they weren't.
I had to contemplate whether to push farther or drop it… and to my disappointment, I settled on the latter. "… Okay then…"
The mute of the room didn't bother to hide his small sigh of relief. My shuffling sheets and his footsteps merged together in the movement then the quiet resumed its ominous buzz.
As rehearsed, I closed my eyelids and remained like that… for a long time… Nothing crawled up to snatch me to the realms of sleep. I turned to my left side. Still nothing… Back to my right then my back, my stomach. I even laid on the opposite side of the sheets! Nothing… Eventually my eyes began to pain with being forced shut so they opened. Nothing different. Just the same black glacier hovering in jostling specs around the room. My lungs daren't release a loud breath in case of awaking the tall teen resting half a meter beside me, except on a different bed.
With his 'image' in my mind, I began to think with hazy, sleep-driven thoughts. But it wasn't about the fire. Or my dad. Or my family, that boy, my mother. No. For once in what seemed like a lifetime these thoughts were somewhat… happy… in a completely sinister way. They were of the teen breathing the same air as me… Laf…
These last hours hadn't just brought misery and pure pain, it had a strange ally alongside it. An emotion that now caused me hurt but- something else… God knows why, when or how this started because I wasn't completely sure of it myself. I didn't trust this emotion, though I trusted the person it belonged to with my life. In a way, I hated my heart to be attracted to this person. It would cause so many more complications that my life doesn't need. What was that saying? 'I don't like the drama; the drama likes me'. I think that was it. Though I couldn't barely take the pulsating throb echoing from my chest, I had to deny the feelings. Even though part of me knew they were there…
On a constant record, it repeated again and again…
I can't love this boy… I can't love, Lafayette…
OwO
Huh? That was the first thing my mind recalled away from my sleeping thought? The squint on my eyelids was a mixture between the pain from the blinding light and utter confusion. I didn't remember falling asleep. Though mind you, what was difference between a dark room and closed eyelids?
Standing up from usual clicks in my limbs was simple. Sleep still ached through me but I pushed it away.
Mornings weren't really that eventful to be honest. All I really did was pick up my bag and try to tread to the door without looking at Laf's sleeping body. It hurt too much. Too much to bare.
I wasn't even sure if he liked me back! So what was the point in hoping? Hoping for something that wouldn't happen… I mean, he has shown signs over the years though the difference between a strong friendship and a lover was minute. Practically nothing but romantic gestures and kissing was the only change. The deep trust was there, the secrets, the problems. It may as well have been a mirror image. So the things I have seen from him most likely meant nothing… Nothing except a deep friendship…
My eyes fortunately obeyed and kept their gaze into the dimly lit hallway. I left his slumbered breaths behind and lethargically staggered down the stairs into the lounge.
Like usual, Mary ticked away on a record with pulsing clicks every second.
Despite the Washington household producing a moderate amount of heat, my feet still shook on the oak planking and the same with the tiles in the kitchen.
06:52
Steam rose from the black, handheld boiler as it bubbled with livid heat. The mug clinked against the marble surface and I sighed
This routine felt too normal… it was almost painful… I got up, made coffee and sat on the couch as if my house hadn't been smashed to the ground two nights ago. Surly something was meant to be different. Surly I was meant to feel something terrible.
But I just felt numb. Emotionless. And if anything, that hurt more.
Again I sighed, tipping my weight to slouch into the smooth leather of the couch. Like a cushion should, they molded into the back of one of Laf's oversized T-shirt's (well, on me anyway) I slept in the night before. It smelt of him. Freshly dropped clementine's in an autumn breeze.
Despite its burning impression upon my twitching nostrils, I couldn't help but smile at the thought of him. And the thought of his own charming grin, one like I have never seen before. And the thought of his lips against min-
"Stop." I verbally stabbed at myself.
The thoughts were ushered away as quickly as they came also washed down by a quaff of coffee. I hoped to drive away the need for sleep with the brown beverage down my throat, again, hope seemed useless at this point.
My line of sight should have burned through the chimney as I barely blinked. The satchel rested in my clasp as if it would be snatched away at any moment. All of these irrelevant things seemed to portray my mind somehow, seeming eccentrically important- it wasn't.
Just outside of the window, a natural symphony played in sweet tweets. Silhouettes of petit songbirds sang their morning tune, muffling through the glazed glass. With each sip and tweet, I smiled a fragment more. Peace. Even if it were for a second.
"Ah, so here you are."
As if I was a criminal on the run, I made a sharp twist to the bottom of the staircase. Instantly, the smile dropped and was replaced with full, wide eyes. Quivering, all the birds scarpered in flustered flocks away from dancing by the window. Every time he took a step closer, I shuffled away to the edge of the couch until there was barely anymore space. I was trapped by my own cowardice.
"Y- Yeah b-but w-what- what are you doing here?" I croaked tucking a loose hair behind my ear. There was no denying that my body shook with terror though, also a wash of relief was hidden amongst it all- I didn't know why.
"What sort of a question is that?" He smiled slightly and sat on the other end of the sofa.
"I... I don't know you!" I stuttered in a frenzy of panicked breaths.
"Well, yeah, of course you don't! The last and first thing you said to me was, "H…Hey!"! And I didn't even reply!" He chuckled and shuffled a little closer to me. "French, wasn't it?"
"I- err... y-yeah…" My eyes drifted up shyly to his deep brown ones. I knew it was the same person, elements like his thick, silky brown hair, perfected lips, dainty nose… Yet he looked completely different at the same time. His skin was richly tanned instead of the ghostly, pale completion I saw him own on Monday. His clothes were of good condition, not ragged with age and growth. Though, the most prominent change was his weight, frame and height. Each one looking bigger, healthy although it didn't watch up to a teenage boy… This made him more relatable to a grown man in his twenty's. Each aspect of him looked changed for on a more positive note, his mesmerising eyes glistening with happy memories. Brighter than the midday sun, his large gaping pupils shone fields of stars in a moon lit sky. Deeper than galaxies. Stronger than steel. They lost me. Made me completely vulnerable to this boy. Or should I have thought…
That boy…
Or something more like: That boy #2,
I didn't mean to think that far into it, so I drew back my attention back to his expression.
That slight smile he wore suddenly dropped and his eyebrows furrowed. "What's the matter?" He asked, somehow making me feel a small burst of anger.
"Oh, I'm sure you already know." I huffed a little.
"What do you mean?" He questioned, now just inches away from the tips of my toes, my legs tight to my chest.
"You were at the fire too. Don't you dare deny it."
Instead of an outraged reaction I thought I would get from him, he just gave a breathy chuckle. "I won't deny it. I'm sure you know what you saw."
"What's that supposed to mean?" I folded my arms across my chest.
"Exactly what it was supposed to mean." He smiled taking a hand to rest on top of my left knee. I didn't resist. I didn't even flinch. I just… stayed still… as if it was Laf or Martha or Aaron or anybody I'd known for years… But he wasn't somebody like that. I didn't even know his name. "You need to stop over thinking things! It's not healthy!"
"And how would you know?" I shot back, trying to keep up a calm wall.
"Just take it from… personal experience."
"Okay then… what were you doing at the fire?"
"Heh… If you really looked deep into yourself, you'd realise that you wouldn't want to know…"
A cold wave of sweat dripped from my pores.
To cover up my nerves I retaliated back, "You're not making any sense."
"Dreams aren't meant to make sense."
Closer… Closer…
He shuffled closer…
"Huh?" I mumbled with faster breaths.
"Come on, surly you would have asked my name by know!" He smirked humorously, as if what he meant was obvious.
"What?"
He stretched his limbs overemphasizing slightly while standing on his built legs and heading in a beeline towards the staircase. Almost instantly, instead of tanned skin, it was fading… becoming even more transparent my the second… His faint smile was weak but still there. Still there and parted for words I didn't have chance to brace for…
"Time to wake up."
OwO
(Lafayette's POV)
I couldn't help but feel sorry for him. Falling asleep wasn't easy when your thoughts were sewn together with vague questions and even more complicated answers…
Actually if I was honest, I had most likely drifted in and out of sleep many times during these slow paced hours in the early morning. Though by what must have been the seventh time of waking up from this irregular sequence, I had given up.
Despite the time John woke me up, and the fact on how awfully my body had rested, my eyes were only slightly weighed down.
Not even giving a second thought to the empty bed before me, I stood, cracked my arms on the way to my bedroom door. There was no surprise John was up prior to me, however, the fact he was cowering on the couch did not please me… Not one little bit…
It seemed like he was speaking to someone and for some strange reason, I just stood there. I completely forgot about his terrified position and just watched him. Whatever dream he was having, it looked mild and some part of me believed to leave him be. So I did and walked away to make coffee instead.
I sipped down onto the mug while walking back to the living room, watching the birds play with the light outside the lounge window. They fluttered happily on the morning dew, almost like children with their frantic ways. They were small yet so precious and fragile, as if you could shatter them with a single breath…
Funny I should have thought that really, as John woke up in heavy gasps splintering like a hammer through the glass.
"John?" I questioned uselessly, realising it was irrelevant. "Hey! Hey! C'est d'accord! It's okay!"
The mug slipped out of my fingertips to the windowsill while I leaped over to him. His eyes broadened like he had just seen a ghost, wider than saucers. His jaw shook in the same motion as his limbs, fast and violent.
Was he having a panic attack? Or was it simply just a bad dream? Even though there was nothing 'simple' about this. Either way, I couldn't resist the temptation to wrap my arms around him.
"Shh…" I hushed on repeat.
To my surprise, he came out of the shakes faster than I anticipated and gripped to my waist. However, with the way he still buried his gaze into the wall, I couldn't shake the thought on how he didn't know what he was doing. Or in other words, the tight grip he held on me meant nothing. So I could give up hope on that dream…
"That's it… Steady breaths… 1… 2… 3… 4… 5… 6… 7… 8… 9… 10… 1… 2… 3… 4… 5… 6… 7… 8… 9… 10…" Again, I recited and in shaky murmurs, he eventually caught on too.
"1… 2… 3… 4… 5… 6… 7… 8… 9… 10… 1… 2… 3… 4… 5… 6… 7… 8… 9… 10…"
"Good." I spoke gently, squeezing his forearm subtly. "Are you okay?"
"I… Y- Yes… Thanks…" He shut his eyes as if collecting himself or trying to keep his mind stable. I couldn't help but stare. All his beauty rushing past me in a gust.
"I'm sorry… I'm sorry I'm such a trouble… Honestly, I don't mean to get in the way…"
What?
"What do you mean?!"
"I mean exactly what I said, Laf… I'm definitely no help here… All I seem to do is cause a problem…"
Fury was stewing in the front of my mind, almost ready to bubble over…
"Stop talking."
"What?"
"Stop talking."
"I-I'm sorry."
"You need to stop saying those things. None of us think that. I really like you here and I'm positive George and Martha want you too."
"I- I'm sorry…"
"Shh… Just… Please don't say things like that again. The fire wasn't your fault. Your father being in there wasn't your fault. There is no point with the 'if's' and 'could have's' I know you're thinking of. You couldn't have stopped it and you never started it. You have nothing to feel guilty about. Believe me."
"Y-Yeah- I… guess…"
"Hey… You're going to be okay."
Tighter, he held onto me, clenching his jaw down with more force. He began to breathe heavier eventually relaxing to let his eyes fall closed. But he wasn't asleep, just emotionally exhausted.
I guess if I were to look on the bright side, this dream wasn't as bad as the others he's captured since the fire. But a part of me knew it could have been a one off.
"Do- Do you want me to get some water?" I asked, leaning back into the cushions.
"Yeah…" He kept his eyes closed and didn't even look up when I walked to the kitchen, picking back up my abandoned coffee. I made his drink up but on hearing footsteps upstairs, I made two black coffee's as well.
The expected two walked down the steps and gave John a pitiful look before walking to the kitchen. I handed both the warm mugs but said nothing. I let Martha fill the silence.
"Did John have another dream?"
I nodded, suddenly driving my attention to my fingernail.
She breathed a sigh into her mug and looked towards the lounge, John's eyes still closed.
"Is he asleep again?" She asked.
"Non. He's awake exhausted all is…"
"'Is all' Gil." Papa corrected before reaching for the water in my hands. "I'll give this to him. You two have breakfast.""
But instead of walking over to John, he stepped closer to me. "You did really well, Gil. I'm proud of you."
My attention shifted to his face and he just smiled, I returning his warm gesture.
"Okay," Martha spoke before reaching for four plates on top of an oak shelf, "do you want toast?"
I gave a genuine smile to the sudden normality washed inside the kitchen. "Can we add bacon to the mix?"
Martha gave out a small laugh along with a soft smile gracing her lips.
"Sure." And she took the bacon out of the refrigerator.
(3rd Person)
John didn't remember much from that morning. Well… Everything other than that blood-curdling dream which left him in buckets of sweat…
He only briefly remembered Lafayette getting him a glass of water, but the boy didn't return for what felt like hours. He was just simply left there, lost in a maze of questions he couldn't understand. All were too confusing to put into completed words- and he was too exhausted to think about anything other than breathing. Long, hard, heavy breaths flooding controlled out his lungs…
After much mental encouragement to his weary eyes, they opened. But also a queer buzzing sound next to his ear.
"…hn …Jo… oh… Jo…n… John…"
Oh god. Not this again. He thought with much frustration.
"John?" The noise repeated before he actually responded.
"Yeah?"
Almost instantly his eyes fuzzed back to George's crouched figure next to him.
"Gil got you some water. We're making breakfast if you want to grab some?"
John gladly took the water taking gradual sips, almost forgetting the last question that was said.
"Do you want any breakfast?"
There was a nagging from his stomach to say yes but, he couldn't get the words out his mouth nor nod his head. He felt greedy. Why should he accept food from them he was already a burden to their lives? Anyway, loads of people at school skipped breakfast! He'd just be consuming something he didn't need. He could skip one meal, right?
"No thanks." He smiled to George over the top of his glass, "I'm not hungry."
George looked at him in disbelief but John just smiled wider to make his point clear.
"Fine… But you are having lunch, okay?" He raised his eyebrows and John just nodded in guilt.
George parted into the kitchen and John let out a small sigh, putting his almost full glass back on the table suddenly letting his thirst die with his hunger.
Lafayette, Martha and George finished their meal and joined together in the living room once the pots were washed. Each carried on their own tasks for around ten minutes before loud bang was heard from the porch.
The suddenness of a hard knock at the door seemed to stun them all. Lafayette quickly pushed out of his seat and walked to answer this person.
Who could be calling at this time? He wondered reaching for the keys in the tray.
The breeze outside was slight yet cooling all the same. The woman stood on the doorstep was familiar to the teen except took him a moment to realise exactly who she was.
Mary Robinson. Was the name he registered. The police officer that spoke to us the night of the fire.
"Hello? Aren't you Lafayette?" She spoke softly with a smile, that seemed quite genuine if he was honest.
"I- Oui." He responded, slightly stunned.
"Are your parents in? And John? I've come to talk about some things you have probably been wondering this past day."
The teen nodded his head gladly and gestured into the house.
"Who is it Gil?" Martha called from inside.
"Officer Robinson! She's come to talk about..." He stopped himself, wondering if there was any other word that he could say, "... the fire."
Martha soon appeared in the doorway and nodded. They all sat down on the couch asking if drinks were needed- they we not.
"So, John Laurens, am I right?" She began, shuffling to face him.
"Y-yes..."
"Okay, John, is it okay if I ask some questions?"
John just simply nodded and made eye contact, trying to seem confident. Underneath, however, he was a lost lamb in the fog...
"Alright," She began again, "where were you the night of the fire?"
"I was out with my friends. I had called my dad at school, he cleared it up to be back by nine thirty."
"Okay. Do you know if anyone had something against your father?"
"Well, my father wasn't liked by many people. He had views that... wasn't seen as 'appropriate' for this age."
"What were these views?"
"He- erm... he was a very homophobic and racist man. My whole family is really... Other than me, my older brother and mother... She died years ago though... My younger siblings aren't really old enough to have views so…"
"I'm sorry about that. What do you think of your father and his views?"
"I hate the things he says. But I can't help but love him... He's my dad."
Lafayette squirmed at this, just out of John's eyesight.
"Of course. Now, I need to talk about who you can stay with. I understand two of the only eligible family members you have are your uncle and brother. Am I right in saying he's at a university in England?"
"Yes. But about my uncle, I wouldn't want to stay with him... My younger siblings are fine with him! He loves them with all his heart, I know that. But... he's a bigger homophobe than my father and won't even let me in his house..."
She stopped and looked up, pity covering up every expression. "So, are you saying you're gay?"
"... Yes..."
A silence filled the room, this was a surprise to all but Lafayette, who has known for a long time. George and Martha however, had only had snippets of information over the years. For him to say it out loud, was a shock to everyone...
"Is it hard for you at home? Presuming he knows."
"He does and, yes."
"So, other than your uncle, who we've clarified you won't be staying with, and your brother in England, do you have anyone else?"
"No. but my brother will be home in two weeks."
"So, are you okay staying with the Washington's?"
"Yes."
"Alright, until we can speak to your brother, it would be best if you stayed here."
John smiled and gave a small glance over to Laf, leaning on the back of the couch. "That's fine."
"Now, I need you ask you, Mr and Mrs Washington, are you okay with looking after John?"
George looked at his wife and too, smiled.
"Yes, that would be fine."
Mary returned the grin, "Good. But I need to ask, who currently lives in this household?"
"It's just me, my wife and Gil."
Martha frowned, leaning forward in her seat, "What about Alexander?"
Everybody (with an exception of Mary) briskly gaped, George being the only one to speak.
"Ah… yes… On Friday we are meant to be looking after a new foster son. But everything is still fine for John to stay with us."
Mary pondered on this for a moment, debating the options in her mind. Something most likely lawful, considering if this was legal.
"That's okay." She decided on, adding a smile to make it seem more real.
"Erm… Do-do you know anything about my father?" John asked, sitting even farther forward in his seat.
"Yes. He's alive but in a deep coma. The doctors unfortunately don't know when he'll wake up. He caught extremely severe burns and he inhaled a lot of smoke. He also broke his legs in the process."
John couldn't speak. He wanted to say at least, "When can I see him?", or, "Will he be okay in the end?". But his voice was drained from words.
"Do you know how the fire started? Gas leak? Arson?" George commented, trying to move on the subject.
"Not yet. But I can assure you that you will be one of the first we inform if we know anything."
George simply nodded his head in agreements.
"That is all I have at the moment. Thank you for time, Washington's, Gil, John. If you have anything else you want to ask, be sure to call the station."
Gil smiled at her warmly, standing up to walk to the door. The small breeze was still blowing outside, masking each tree with rustles.
"Are you happy about getting a new brother?" Mary asked, tightening her coat at a suddenly stronger gale.
"Oui." Laf spoke confidently because for once in these few day, it was true. "It'll just be strange not having a spare room anymore though!"
She chuckled, "I can only imagine. But I'm sure you'll be a great brother, Lafayette. Don't worry."
Laf looked at her slightly taken back. She grinned, nodded and left down the path, crunching freshly fallen leaves as she went. Lafayette didn't move however, he just leant on the doorway, admiring the dog walker's grace as she gave a small stumble on the curb. The way her small children plodded along with her. Two boys: he noted, brothers.
His smile smiled widened. Is this what brothers do?
The two boys pushed each other playfully laughing as the other dodged a small swing. Laf leaned out farther into the wind, waving to them as they passed the gate. Only one waved back though, small with brown hair. Whereas his other with a blond mop (both with the same dazzling, sapphire eyes), pulled him away to catch up with their mother at a lamppost, smiling.
Was this what brothers did?
He couldn't really remember his biological brother that much. His name was Michel and he was five years older than Laf himself. His hair was dirt brown with bright green eyes yet, it wasn't like lush grass… No, more like a fresh moss beneath a shady tree. Similar to the forests he used to live by. Like he said, he didn't remember his brother. A game of hide-and-seek inside that forest was all he had…
His brother died when Laf was nine. Suicide was the killer. Michel was only 14… 14… And there were no signs… Not even a proper goodbye… Only a piece of paper Laf didn't even get to read… His dad took it with him when he left one night and never came back. All he left was money for Laf's mother.
About three months later he and his mother flew to Virginia, bags packed and hotel booked for two weeks. She had said they would find a house soon, close to the middle school he was starting after the break.
That didn't happen.
There was no new house with him and his mother. There wasn't even the hotel she promised him. Just a car, a lot of blood and Gil weeping over his mother's body.
There was no new house with him and his mother. There wasn't even the hotel she promised. Just a foster home filled with American strangers for two weeks. He shared a room with a kid called Jamie. About the same age or maybe a few months older. Jamie was very small, but a very wise kid. Spoke French with only a few grammatical mistakes Laf picked up on, but he could still understand it. Jamie was the only one to first give him the nick-name 'Lafayette' or just 'Laf'. His parents, brother and nearly all the people back home in France just called him 'Gil' or 'Gilbert'. So when he first met the Washington's, it did make him feel a lot more at home.
Jamie was his first 'dip' to American life. Teaching him a few words like, "Hello", "Please", "Thank you", "Yes", "no" and "goodbye". Laf still loved the French words better: "salut". "merci", but could also understand why so many people spoke the language (even though it was a lot more complicated than what it should be).
When he had first met the Washington's, he was shocked. For starters, their house was enormous compared to what he was used to. Secondly, their personalities were more or less the same to his own parents. George was strong-minded, wise and caring- just like his father before his drinking problem. Martha was a spitting image to his mother. Almost like her spirit was down from heaven and inside this woman. Kind, determined, loyal, funny. Laf had picked up on these over the years. But his main shock was that they knew French. Well… by the end of it they did… After visits and stays, they took French to add to their list of knowledge. George was already fluent in German and Latin whereas Martha had Japanese and Italian as hers.
Despite them knowing French, they encouraged him to speak American for the next few years. They had only really cut him some slack in Freshman year. High School (mainly because he took French as a chosen language).
But he did love the Washington's. Nobody could replace the ones he'd lost but… George and Martha cut it very close. He was happy with his new parents. He had never had to really deal with a new brother… Despite not remembering Michel too well, he knew that he loved him with his heart, in life and death. Their bond was too strong and that must have been why Laf couldn't remember his older brother that well… He didn't want to know a life without him…
The small blond boy pulled his brother up the street to where his mother and dog waited patiently. A smile never dropped from either of their faces, almost like a beacon louder than the sun in the sky.
Laf closed the door as soon as Mary's car pulled away from the path, passing the family he watched so inquisitively before. He returned to the living room and stunned by how everyone had quickly everyone had switched to normality. Whatever that was anymore…
John was sketching on the couch, Martha was getting out her laptop and George headed upstairs (to get ready for word no doubt).
The French teen was a little bit lost at this point and walked to Mary, swinging on the wall.
09:50
George had to be at work by 10:30.
He aimlessly stretched his arms and walked up the stairs to grab his phone and school books. He opened his messages to Herc, flinging himself to his desk.
Laf (just now): Just had the police speak to us
Herc (Just now): RLY?! Wat they say?!
Laf (just now): Well John's staying with us until we can reach his brother, his dad's in a pretty bad state, George and Martha found out he's gay and it's gonna be a full house with the five of us.
Herc (just now): 5? 4 god sake! U need 2 stop counting that clock as a damn family member!
Laf (1 minute ago): Okay, for one- Mary IS family. And two, you forgot Alexander! -_-
Laf (just now): Herc?
Herc (just now): …
Herc (just now): Laf… Who's Alexander?
Laf (just now): My new foster brother? xD Jesus Christ mon amie!
Herc (just now): ….. U never mentioned a new foster brother B4 Laf….
The boy's heart dropped in his chest. He let his pen fall from his fingers and bit his nail unsure with what to reply. He typed out many answers but never hit send for any of them. It must have been five minutes before Herc sent a message instead.
Herc (just now): Oh screw this. I'm coming over.
Laf (just now): Are you bringing Aaron?
Herc (just now): Can't. His foster parents forced him 2 go 2 school
Laf (just now): Crap. Hope Theo is free….
Herc (just now): Yeah… Anyway, I'll B there in 10
Laf (just now): Okay. Can you bring your school books too?
Herc (just now): Laaafff! Rly? Is this the right time?
Laf (just now): Noooo…. Buuuttt…..
Herc (just now): Ur unbelievable but sure.
Laf (just now): Thnx! C u in 10?
Herc (just now): Cu in 10.
Laf slipped his phone back to the desk and went to his wardrobe.
Laf was normally the type to spend a long time picking out outfits, not to mention when they go out to dinner someplace. However, this time he just slung on just jeans and a baggy V-neck before heading to the bathroom, completing his usual routine.
He stepped out the bedroom door minutes later, meeting George in the hallway. They smiled, George letting his son bound down the stairs first.
Martha pecked her husband on the head before waving him off through the window. She turned around to Laf laying down on the rug and chuckled. John smiled too, looking over his sketch book.
"Why do you do that?" He laughed, watching Laf rub his cheek on the rug.
"It's comfy." Was all he said,
"Yeah, well, so is the couch!" John looked over in an amused disbelief.
Suddenly, Laf flipped over to face Martha who was grinning at the whole exchange between friends.
"Ah yes, Maman, Herc will be here soon. Forgot to say."
Martha walked back to her laptop, "That's fine. Will Aaron be coming too?"
"Non. He had to go back to school today."
"Unfortunate." Martha clicked her tongue, "Have you two done your homework/"
"I was going to get it done today." John smiled reaching for his French book.
"Herc and I were doing it today too." Laf spoke then turned to John, "Wanna join?"
John nodded his head, look in his bag for his Journal on what homework was set on the last Monday.
Laf went back to is odd habit of rolling on the rug until the door knocked three, hard times.
"I'll get it!" He called and bounced to the door.
"Herc, mon amie!" He smiled nervously at his friend's stern face. "Come in?"
Herc rolled his eyes but with a grin twitching at the side of his mouth. They entered the housed together and straight to the kitchen.
"Drink?" Laf offered already reaching for a glass.
"Just water thanks."
Herc look over to the door admiring the beauty from the wild garden (like most did usually).
"Hey," He began still looking out the glass, except staring fixed at the empty dog kennel, "where's Jess?"
Laf turned from the sink with two waters in hand.
"Oh, she's stayed with Grand-mère for a week."
Herc made a silent "oh", taking a few gulps from the glass. "Then it really will be a full house. Two adults, a dog and three teen boys. Well I presume Alexander is a teen." He chuckled, "Speaking of…" He turned to Laf. "What's happening with him?"
Lafayette lost the other boy's gaze, "Well… His name is Alexander Hamilton… Same age as us and he's coming this Friday…"
"Friday?!" Herc exclaimed, near to choking on his drink.
"Yeah… That's what John said…"
"So John knows already?"
"Yeah… He sorta had to know."
Herc hummed in agreement and taking the last gulp of water.
"When are you going to tell Aaron? Do you want me to drop in on my way home after school?"
"That's be great thanks."
The two teens stared at each other, grinning for a strange reason. The conversation strayed away from problems, to homework they had to finish soon. John joined behind them once they headed upstairs, chuckling to some inside joke.
Considering it was the first day back, the teachers they had were quite lenient with the work which was set. So when all three of them started to natter, the homework that should have been taken around an hour and a half, ended up becoming double that. The only time they all really got on with it, was when their chosen subject came up: Art for John: Drama for Laf. Herc didn't really have any homework for Gym that day, so he checked his social media instead- quickly skipping past all the drama about John's house.
"Name Shakespeare plays." Laf blurted, leaning onto Herc.
"Romeo and Juliette?"
"Midsummer Night's Dream?"
"Non, non. I've already got those two, Macbeth, Othello, The Tempest, Twelfth Night, Richard III, Much Ado About Nothing and The Winter's Tale. I need ten, I've only got nine."
"Hey, aren't you supposed to be the one to know about this?" Herc shrugged Laf from his shoulder.
"Yeah but… I'm much better at the acting bit!" Laf defended.
"We know!" The other two boys chimed. Lafayette just gave unamused, overdramatic looks at the two.
"Fine! Erm… What about Hamlet?" John suggested.
"Of course! How could I forget that?" Laf scribbled it down in his notebook. "Except… What's it about again?"
"How could you not know that?" Herc laughed.
"Yeah, isn't that to do with the Lion King?" John shut his sketchbook, leaning into the beanbag.
"Oui, mais je suis français." Lafayette smirked, proud of his home country.
John hummed in agreement.
"Hey look guys," Herc shoved his phone to his pocket, "why don't we watch a movie?"
"Like the Lion King?" Laf looked at them both repeatedly.
"Are you serious?" Herc raised an eyebrow.
Laf was dead serious.
"Yeah! We haven't visited childhood on a while!" John added, carefully putting away his sketchbook.
"You guys are such children." Herc laughed at the other two's guilty expression.
"Oh, come on you big teddy bear! You know you want to!" Laf hugged tight against Herc's back cooing in his ear playfully.
"I-" Was all he got to say before Lafayette rammed back in with an answer,
"Great! Come on!" Laf stood and bounced down the stairs, John in tow and Herc rolling his eyes but followed along too.
Martha was still typing as they sat on the couch's. She simply just looked up at the three before getting her head back down to work. She was surprised however, when she heard the theme tune to… Lion King play?
She smiled to herself knowing the feeling of s 'blast-from-the-past' moment in her life. Even if it was just from pictures scattered like stars across walls or, an anniversary. She was a treasurer of time. Or at least, that's how she saw herself.
Eventually, she quit her thoughts and gave a final glance to the three boy's huddled on the couch. Yet one particular glance towards John and Gil, leaning against each other in the shadow of the sofa.
Author's Note:ARRGGHHHHH! ITS DONE! WHOOOOPP!
Well *sweats nervously*… Hi? I'm not dead? :D
Oh god. It feels amazing to finally get back to all of you! I had so much I wanted to say but now I've finally got here, to this Author's Note, I really don't know what to put…
First I need to make it clear that I have changed Lafayette's backstory because this seems more realistic than what I had before!
Oh yeah! I SAW THE WESTEND HAMILTON! SO FREAKING AMAZING! Anyone who is going to see it, you are in for a treat! If you've seen the Bootleg on YouTube, I dare say that this London Cast is better than the Original! (No hate towards the Original Cast I promise!) The only people I keep the same are Eliza (Pipa) and Aaron Burr (Leslie) tbh. Both KG3's are as good as each other! So beautifully stunning!
Also, I need to ask, what do you think of this being in 3rd Person? I think I might continue the story like that, except 1st Person for Alex most of the time? It's be easier for me actually but tell me what you'd like though!
Anyway xD
Please leave your reviews! I love you all so much when you do!
I'll be back soon! (And psst… Sneak peek for next chapter… Alex is in some deep sh*t… Shhhhh… I didn't tell you…)
Signing off for the first in a LONG time,
-L.E-Rae _x_