Chapter 2 ~ The Date..
It had been a week since Francis had last seen Gilbert. He had only met him once, yet the image of the sexy albino raced through his mind every ten minutes. He sighed, tapping his pencil on a desk.
He was in the middle of a culinary lecture, and was struggling to pay attention. He raised his hand, signaling that he was going to the restroom, and stepped out of the lecture room. He pulled his smartphone out of his pocket and stared at the number Gilbert had given him before he left the shop. Francis pondered to himself. Should he call it? Would that be weird? I mean, he had only shared a few words with the guy. He sighed, frustrated.
He shook his head and started to walk towards his dorm, he may as well skip the lecture on cream based soups. He couldn't pay attention anyway. He walked up to his door and twisted the knob, it opened. That was odd..it usually was locked. He stepped into his bedroom, and lo and behold, Gilbert was sitting on the bed with a devilish smirk on his face.
"How the hell did vous find my dorm?" Francis' eyebrows shot up and he crossed his arms over his broad chest.
"Just a little research." The albino smirked and stood up, moving towards the blonde. "How about we go on zhat date?"
"Now?"
"Ja, now." The Prussian chuckled and grabbed Francis' hand, leading him out the door.
"Rather straight forward, aren't you?" Francis asked with a smirk.
"How ich was raised."
"Interesting."
"So, culinary school, eh?" The Prussian looked over at the Frenchman with a cocked brow. "What made you choose that?"
"Well...Je have always been interested in the culinary arts. Moi grandfather was a sous chef, I loved to watch him flip pancakes and crepes, stir delectable soups and slide pizzas into giant brick ovens. It always intrigued moi je guess." He smiled to himself. "Are vous going to school?"
"Ja." The Prussian smiled. "Ich go to an equestrian university down the road."
"Vous ride?"
"Ja, I've ridden since as long as I can remember. Mein bruder came home with this big pinto mare one day. Her name was Schleich. Ich would ride her bareback up and down the fields, jumping over fallen logs and other things in the way." He chuckled at the memory. "Ich eventually got my own horse, Patrick. An andalusian stallion." He smiled over at Francis. "Made me want to do it for a living."
"Funny, vous don't strike me as a rider. Vous seem much more, how do you say, badass." The Frenchman chuckled.
"Who are you to say what makes a rider?"
"Je actually ride myself. More of a hobby than a profession for me though. Je have a Camargue gelding that je adopted around 3 years ago."
"We should ride together sometime." The Prussian stopped walking in front of a park. He walked in and sat at a table. "Our first date shall be talking."
"We should."
The two continued to talk for the next 3 hours, and the sun began to set. Francis felt a straining at his heart, he didn't want to leave, he had found so much in common with this man.
Gilbert smirked. "I feel your pain mein leibe."
"Did you just cal-" Francis' words were cut off by an abrupt kiss from the Prussian.
"Good night, mein leibe."
"M-m-on couer." The Frenchman stuttered and gaped at the Prussian.
What an interesting first date.