A/N: First of all, I'm sorry. This was meant to be uploaded last week, but the only day I got the chance to do it I was so sleepy I screwed the format up and I had to start it all over. So, in short, it has been a busy week. I've had to finish a project due... tomorrow, and it is still not over. It also involved a lot of writing, so I didn't really feel infatuated to write a bit more. Hopefully tomorrow it will be over, and I'll have time to write again! Yayyy for writing things I actually enjoy rather than those I'm going to be marked on!
Anyway, enough rambling. Here I go:
PROLOGUE II: "Till tonight do us part"
Francis was mesmerized at the sight.
Not the clear sky, not the stars, not the moon. No, he wasn't looking at any of that. He didn't need to. He saw them all reflected on those eyes, those green orbs that seemed to hold the infinity of the Universe in their finite space.
"You are beautiful", he said
"You'll probably say that to everybody" those eyes looked at him; and all of sudden, he found himself unable to answer. But he quickly composed himself.
"If it makes you feel better, this is the first time."
"If it makes you feel better, this is not the first time" Francis said, as he parked the car, "This is not the first time I dragged a friend to a bar on Valentine's Day"
"Actually, for a man who claims to have an incredibly hectic and busy love life, I find your lack of dates on Valentine's Day a bit disturbing." Gilbert answered with a smirk, as he unfastened the seat belt.
Francis snorted at that.
"You know I don't do dates on this day. And yeah, sure, because 'hey let's go get wasted at that bar that looks suspiciously like the one we got kicked out of last week' is exactly the kind of romantic night I'd plan for a date."
His friend licked his lips, trying to look lascivious and failing miserably.
"Well, it worked for me, sugar."
"You've always been a romantic", he smiled. "I don't even know how poor Matthew puts up with you."
And it had been long enough that Francis knew the only two outcomes regarding that topic: either he would get really sappy about his boyfriend, or start a really dirty comment that Francis never let himself hear the end of.
"Oh, you know, I try to compensate him with my long, hard…"
"Enough. Why do I even bother hoping it would be the sappy one?"
"...glares at people that he hates, so that he feels more secure about himself. That's the worst part about you never letting me finish my sentences, you always think I'm a pervert."
"Oh thank God." the French sighed.
And it was a foolish mistake to let his guard down; because hey! It's Gilbert we're talking about.
"...Aaaaand the sex's mind-blowing, too."
Francis chose not to dignify that with an answer, and got out of the car instead.
"I think I find Antonio a better role-model for my relationships. Mostly because he's not going out with my cousin, and that makes the whole 'talking about feelings' an awful lot less awkward. Not that it has ever stopped you telling me every detail of your sex life."
Gilbert, as usual, chose to focus on the irrelevant part.
"You say 'relationships' as if you had any. Hookups? I've lost count. But real relationships, as in with feelings and stuff? When was the last one? When I met you in college you were already the Casanova you're today."
"I've had some… issues."
"Yeah, sure. Listen, man. Look who you're talking with. Do I look like the kind of guy who could ever settle down? I'll answer that for you: no. Or, at least, that's what I thought before I met him. Then, when that wonderful, marvellous angel fell from the sky… When he started talking to me, when I got to spend time with him and looked like he was the fire that melted the ice barriers I'd built around my heart…"
"I never thought I'd say this, but I prefer the sexual innuendos."
"Tough luck, kiddo. Because it's fucking Valentine's Day, and as you can see, my wonderful boyfriend is on the other side of the planet. So, as I pass the time for me to be acceptable to call him, time-zones and all, you're stuck for this lovesick fool of a best friend, who won't shut up about poetry, and eternal love, and… yeah, actually, that's about it."
"I hate you." he said, but there was no actual fire behind those words.
"If I had a penny for everytime someone's told me that..."
"You'd be rich, and I'd still hate you. Now get your ass moving and go to the pub with me so I can drown my sorrows and my hatred for Valentine's day."
Gilbert did as he was told, and as they started walking along the deserted street, he asked:
"No, but really, what's all the fuss about?"
His friend didn't even bother to meet his gaze, just shrugged and said:
"I hate this day, that's all."
"Why?"
"Issues, I told you."
"No, you didn't tell me. That's, like, the whole point of me asking."
They got inside, and just after they had ordered their drinks, Francis began:
"The summer before our last year of High School. I met a guy, shit happened."
"Duh. Shit happens. What a fucking surprise. Now get over it."
"I did."
"No, you didn't. Bro, I practically founded the Gilbert School Of Pretending You Don't Have Feelings So You Don't Get Hurt. One of the most popular courses being Pretending You Got Over Stuff You Didn't Actually Get Over With. I can recognize these things when I see them. And all you one-night-stands are just that. You're getting old for this stuff"
"You were doing this exact same stuff two months ago. Hello Kettle, I'm Pot."
"Yeah, but I didn't have Matthew back then."
It had been just recently that Gilbert had settled down, making Francis the only single of their trio. And if the French found it at least a bit depressing, he didn't show it.
"Just because you found your special someone doesn't mean we all will."
Gilbert just stared at him.
He has been improving his bitch-face a lot… the whole settling-down thing has done wonders.
"Oh come on! Give fate a little chance!"
At that moment, their drinks arrived, which was a fortunate distraction taking into account how much Francis wanted to punch his friend right then.
"Fate my ass. You found love? How nice. I'm happy for you. But some of us have long since stopped believing our knight in a shining armor will be waiting for us, or will came to the rescue to whatever kind of crap we've gotten ourselves into. We'll grow up, grow old, and then die. The last stage, invariably, happens alone. So, along the way? Enjoy things while they last. Don't waste time hoping for something that will never happen. Sex's great, it's real, and it's within reach. So why bother.", he finished with a noncommittal gesture.
"This is the most poetic, and at the same time most depressing thing I've ever heard anyone say while drunk." Gilbert stated, after a few seconds of just staring at him.
They stayed silent for a little while, but then Gilbert sighed and said:
"The guy with issues. I don't know what all those hookups find on you."
"Well, they're mostly attracted by my amazingly impressive…"
"No. Just no. That's my game."
"Charisma. How does it feel, Gil?"
"That's my line." he glared at him, pouting.
And here I was, thinking you had grown up. Guess not even Matt can change your not-so-inner child...
"Oh, behave or I'll tell dear Matthieu you've been pouting all night. C'mon, let's go, this doesn't even feel right anymore."
They got out to the chilly night, and Francis felt a bit more sober.
Still, not completely, or else he would had shut himself up before words came out of his throat.
"Sometimes I still wish to believe in Destiny. To believe that someone, somewhere, is leading my steps, and that all the decisions I make, even the mistakes, are slowly but securely drawing me towards that special person. And that, someday, I'll just turn around the corner and there will he be, waiting for me with a smile and whispering 'it took you long enough'"
Gilbert remained silent for a while, not knowing what to answer to that.
"Look, there's a corner there. Wouldn't it be awfully convenient? And guess what? I'm going to spice up things a bit. 10 bucks say… scratch that, go hard or go home, if somehow the laws of probability and common sense all go to hell and I somehow end up meeting my soulmate tonight, I'll dress up like Pumbaa for a week straight and the only way I'll communicate with other human beings will be by singing any song from The Lion King. Now that's tempting fate. It makes the whole thing all too convenient to miss, doesn't it? But we both know, since real life is not a fucking crappy teenager romance novel, that stuff like that doesn't happen. That the corner will be just as empty as the rest of the street."
"Yeah, I know."
But what they didn't know, however, is that sometimes stuff like that happens, that the corners aren't just as empty as the rest of the street.
Less due to the statistic probabilities of that happening, and more due to the fact that fate is a bitch and doesn't like being tempted. It was kind of a 'you don't believe in me? I'll make you believe, via the most clichéd and horrendous way, so you suffer two times as much'.
In short, it was the cosmic equivalent of a big 'Fuck You'. And one of the best indicators that tell you're royally screwed is the fuckup happening on a cosmic level.
Just as he was turning the corner, he bumped into someone, making them both fly straight downwards to the ground.
"Wait, I think we fell down" he said, seconds later.
"You've just realized? TOOK YOU LONG ENOUGH, MORON!"
Definitely, Francis could've chosen better entities to mess up with.
A/N: Hey, you! Yes, the one at the other side of the screen! Are you tired of the same, old-fashioned clichés? Feel like you could up some of your own? Are you reading this with an infomercial voice? Well then, the review box is for you! Suggestions are much appreciated.
