Dressed in another one of Francis' fancy outfits with his hair gelled back Matthew couldn't help but admit that he looked good and felt good. Sort of. He might have felt better if the nosey French man would just lay back a bit and stop fretting. Why he was fretting Matthew did not know, but he had been shaky since he woke up. Muttering to himself that mutants were not actually physical beings of reality but very creepy figments of the imagination. Then he went back to being his weird self.
"We are leaving now, Mattie," Francis said.
He was leaning against the doorframe, looking sharp in his deep blue trench coat and black jeans. Matthew gave him a sarcastic smile, making sure to let every bit of his displeasure drip through and walked past him, brushing the man's shoulder on the way.
The car ride was slow and antagonizing, with very few words being delivered. Whenever Francis did try to start up conversation but Matthew quickly slapped down the silence card and brought the attempts to a hapless end.
"Mattie please talk to me," Francis pleaded as he put the car into park.
Matthew looked out window; it seemed nicer than having to face this man. This man that basically gave him the worst two days of his life; this man that was forcing him into Paris culture; this man that helped to successfully make Matthew feel worse about himself then then he did before.
"Mattie …"
But even so … he was trying so hard. Francis' desperation was a little more than obvious. And oh, how the tables turned. Matthew couldn't help but feel like the bad guy. All Francis was trying to do was cheer him up but it wall like the Canadian kept putting up a wall, blocking off any of the cheer-up bombs that were being thrown at him. Man he felt like such a dick.
Matthew looked to Francis and smiled – a real one this time.
"Okay! I feel like an ass-head, I think it would only be fair for me to stop sulking right? So from this point on, I will enjoy myself!" the boy declared.
Francis' face lit up but as soon as the happiness came, it left. He eyed Matthew suspiciously. "Really?"
Matthew nodded, though he was not sure of his answer, and exclaimed as honest as he could exclaim, "I will have fun!"
"Oh, merci, Mattie!"
-_- Boy Does Life Suck. As Our Precious Matthew Would Say: FML -_-
The restaurant was actually fun. Francis couldn't stop talking about Alfred and his picky eating habits.
"Do you know, Mattie, when that junkie American came he refused to eat everything! He actually thinks that all French people have cooked frog legs and escargot in their pots and pans! He is despicable! He made me buy a new kitchen set and would not stop watching me cook!"
The rant didn't end there. It kept going, for hours and as much as the Canadian wanted to tell Francis that he kept restating already stated fact he couldn't gather the strength. Not when he actually started taking interest in what Francis was trying to do.
The sun had just gone down and Paris came alive. Matthew was entranced; it was so beautiful.
"Why haven't I noticed this before? Paris is so cool!"
"My boy you have not noticed because you were being such a partyshitter," Francis laughed.
Matthew chimed in along with him, not for the same reasons though. He doubled over, using the headboard as support.
"What is so funny?" Francis asked.
Tears pricked at the corners of the boy's eyes. "Y-your English! You're such a fail!"
"Hmph! My English? 'You're such a fail' makes no sense!"
Matthew patted his comrade's head. "Yes it does. You're just too old to know so."
-_- Boy Does Life Suck. As Our Precious Matthew Would Say: FML -_-
The music boomed, lights flickered and the sea of bodies swayed. In the darkness of the club Matthew could see Francis flirting with a group of girls and eventually disappear with them into the crowd.
The cold, bitter anger that left him earlier in the day returned again as he waited for Francis to return. Minutes went by and he remained seated.
"So much for 'together'," he muttered.
The time drawled by until and a very intoxicated Francis manifested. His steps were clumsy and he collapsed onto the chair opposite of Matthew.
"M-mon cher," – hic – "What aaaare you doing just," – hic – "just lying here?" – hic – "C-come, let us run off in t-" – hic – "the night and get to know each other a bit b-better."
Matthew flinched back. "F-Francis?"
"Y-yes," – hic – "love?"
"Do you know who I am?"
"Oui! You are, my love! I love," – hic – "you!"
Matthew got up from his seat and took Francis under the arms, hauling him up and steadying him before he could fall over.
"We need to go home, Francis. You've had too much to drink."
Francis pushed Matthew away and spit at his shoe. "Non! I have no-" – hic – "t had clearly enough to bloo-ba-blah-bleeeeh! Look," – hic – "now you have me incorrecting my Ernglish!"
Matthew slapped his palm to his forehead and dragged the incapable man through the club, out the door and into his car.
Setting Francis in the vehicle was more difficult than expected, numerous times his had 'accidentally' managed to grope the young nation his legs kept 'uncontrollably' kicking Matthew in the stomach. It was would have been so easy to toss him out and drive off but Francis didn't deserve that … not really … that much … okay so he did but Matthew would never do that (and he didn't know how to get back).
"Francis do you think you could direct me back to your house?" Matthew sighed.
Francis reached for the steering wheel and Matthew swatted his hand away.
"Stupid child! L-let," – hic – "I drive!"
"Let me drive," Matthew corrected. "And no, you'll kill us."
"Oh," – hic – "you're welcome! I would do that not," – hic – "… la Lune! Elle est belle!" Francis pressed himself against the window, "Oh, Kurpuka catch it for me!"
"My name is Canada! And it's oh, please!" He pushed Francis back into the seat. "Now, come on, I need you to help me navigate out of here and back to your house."
The French man narrowed his eyes in question. "Everyting here is my home!"
"MAPLE! Where you sleep, you fucking idiot!" he lunged himself at Francis, grabbed a fistful of his shirt and jerked him back and forth until he could see the dizzy-swirls in Francis' eyes. He stopped, only then understanding the errors of shaking an insanely drunk man and grunted.
"Francis, please!" he growled.
"Listen," – hic – "here, Culloonga! Y-" – hic – "ou must not know who I am!"
"Go to sleep."
"Pardon?"
"Go to sleep. We're sleeping in the bloody car tonight, you stupid hoser. I cannot stand you like this and I swear to goodness I might just drive us over the Eiffel Tower if I hear your voice again!"
Francis gave Matthew the stink eye and pushed the seat back, getting himself comfortable. He let his eyelids droop until everything faded to black and fell asleep.
POW!
POW!
POW!
It was like a thousand tiny midgets were drilling and pounding and chipping away at his skull. He'd had bad hangovers but this, this was re-fucking-diculous. He had Advil in there somewhere. Francis pulled open the glove compartment and the bottle rolled into his hand. He twisted the cap and tossed it onto the ground. Shaking about ten or so of the tiny pills into his hand, he let out a small sound, making his happiness known and popped them into his mouth.
Francis examined the in space; Matthew was sleeping next to him, head resting on the dashboard. He looked so cute! But why were they in his car? Francis removed himself from the car, careful not to disturb the agitated ache in his head, and relocated Matthew to the backseat.
With a turn of his key and a push on the gas, they were off; driving down the painfully loud streets of Paris and back to his home.
END OF PART iv (part two)
OKAY! So this one is a wee bit of a short shot but I am exhausted from exams! DX Second last chapter is officially done! I hope you enjoyed!
RANDOM SIDE NOTE:
So I took a bunch on Hetalia Personality Quizzes and (lol) I think I need to be more of an aggressive person. Kept getting Matthew XP Anywho … that's just my note.
Merci – Thank you
Mon cher – My dear
Oui – Yes
la Lune! Elle est belle! – The Moon! She is beautiful!
Pardon – Pardon