Sweet Symphony
Chapter 8
Disclaimer- I do not own Hetalia
(Zelda-FF Betas!)
"Matthew, talk to your Papa. What's eating at you? You're looking atrocious."
His father had reclined on the sofa to where his head was in his son's lap, more to trap him there than anything.
"I'm fine, Papa."
He laughed nervously.
"Menteur." [Liar.]
"I'm just confused."
"L'amour?"
"Sort of."
"Your Papa will love you despite what type of lifestyle you chose, do not fret."
"I know, Papa; I'm not worried about you, per se…"
"Then who? Is it that Mr. Jones?"
"Kind of."
Matthew frowned.
"Tell me: are you attracted to that man?"
"I don't know."
"Is that what's bothering you?"
"No."
"Then what?"
"I don't know."
Matthew sighed heavily, the kind of sigh that should only be sighed when much older and much more burdened. They fell into silence, Matt absently toying with his father's golden silk hair. Francis just wished he could kiss away all of his son's problems and troubles like he used to.
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"Mr. Jones!"
Said man turned around to face the girl addressing him.
"Oh hi there, Eliz."
"Mr. Jones, I'm worried."
"Hmm… About what?"
He set down the watering hose in his hand to give her his full attention.
"Not what, a who. Matthew."
"Mattie? What about him?"
His interest was piqued.
"Surely you must have noticed how rail thin he's gotten, and personally I haven't seen him for a week and a half. I don't know what's wrong."
They both had serious expressions occupying their features.
"Now that you mention it, he has been looking pretty no bueno lately, and I haven't seen him around either."
"Ughh, what's wrong? What do you think it is?"
"I dunno? Do you think he's just sick?"
"I'd say probably more than sick if he's gotten that skinny. You don't think its parent trouble, do you?"
"I really can't say that I've never heard him speak about his parents."
"Well I've been to his house, and I'm pretty sure it's just him and his dad. But Mr. Bonnefoy doesn't seem like the type to cause any harm. Maybe we should go visit him?"
"Ya wanna?"
Eliz nodded.
"I think we should, Mattie has been unusual."
"Alrighty. Why don't we take him some soup too, ya know, incase he really is sickly."
Another nod from the long-haired brunette.
They made a batch of classic chicken noodle soup in Mr. Jones' kitchen and packaged some up to go. Matt lived close by, so they walked over instead of driving. Eliz stepped forward, taking it upon herself to knock on the door. Before long, a long hair man opened the door who Mr. Jones presumed was Matthew's father.
"Uhm, hello Mr. Bonnefoy. We were worried about Matt and were wondering if we could visit him. We thought he might be sick, so we brought him some soup, too."
She raised up the bag containing the soup to prove it.
The man smiled softly, proud that his son had made such caring friends, Eliz he already knew, and… Oh, that man?
"You're Mr. Jones aren't you?"
He asked in his accented voice.
The man in question lifted his eyes to meet equally blue ones.
"Ah, yes sir. I'm your son's band director. Pleased to meet you."
"I know, he speaks highly of you. Oh my, I'm being rude, why don't you and Elizabeta come inside?"
They entered the Bonnefoy's house and were moved to the living room, the soup getting placed on the counter in the kitchen. Francis had gone off to alert Matthew that he had visitors.
When Francis reentered the room he had a rather dismal looking Matthew trailing behind him. The wavy haired blondes sat side by side on the couch opposite Mr. Jones and Elizabeta.
"Matt, we've been so worried. Are you okay?"
Matthew gave a weak smile to her, grateful to have such a true friend.
"I've been kind of under the weather recently. I've just been here at home all week."
"Oh?"
"I'm just tired, no big deal."
The four of them sat awkwardly. Eliz had her eyes on Matt, Matthew and Mr. Jones both had their eyes glued to the carpeted floor, and as for Francis, he just kept still and watched the other three and their lack of conversation. After what seemed like a small eternity, Mr. Jones straightened himself up.
"Eliz and I made some soup for you. Do you want some?"
Matthew thought for a few seconds before nodding up at his music teacher. Light violet eyes met the most beautiful cerulean eyes, but Mr. Jones couldn't quite read the emotion in the younger's. Mr. Jones cleared his throat after looking away.
"Mr. Bonnefoy, could you accompany me to show me where the bowls are?"
Francis rose gracefully and followed the taller man; truthfully, Mr. Jones just wanted to talk to the man in private.
Once in the spacious clean kitchen and out of earshot of the two teenagers in the living room, Mr. Jones got down to business.
"I hate to pry, sir, but is there anything wrong with Matthew? I can't help but notice that he's lost so much weight and he seems to have reverted back into his shell."
"Mr. Jones … I'm flattered for your concern, but I'm afraid I really can't say what's plaguing my son. I've asked, but he won't indulge me with the truth. I don't think he's physically sick. I believe whatever it is that's stressing him is what's causing all the trouble."
Mr. Jones nodded at the information and crossed out the idea that Matthew's health was being affected by his father.
Francis moved about the kitchen, procuring a bowl and a spoon thinking of a question.
"Mr. Jones, what do you think of my Matthew?"
The question bewildered the young bespectacled teacher and his cheeks flared. He took his time trying to formulate an acceptable response. As he was about to reply Mr. Bonnefoy spoke again.
"I get the feeling that what you feel for my son isn't all that platonic. Is my hunch correct, Mr. Jones?"
Alfred tensed, horrified to be singled out but he neither confirmed the suspicions or denied them.
"I take your lack of a reply as a yes."
Francis sighed.
"Worry not, Mr. Jones; I am not going to cause a scene, I was merely curious. I once was involved with a teacher of mine, so I can't exactly condemn you without being a hypocrite. However, I must warn you to be extremely careful, Matthew is a good boy, don't hurt him."
Mr. Jones stared, wide-eyed, at the older man before him. He couldn't believe this man had pretty much given him his blessing to feel what he did for Matthew. He was in shock that this man had read his so easily. How? Mr. Jones swallowed thickly.
"How did you know? Not to be rude, but we've never even met before."
"I told you Matthew spoke highly of you, non? I gathered as much from the stories. Plus, I like to believe I'm something of an expert of amour."
Mr. Bonnefoy gave a quirk of his lips and began to make his way back to the teen in the living room, pausing on his way out.
"Oh, and don't forget the soup."
A/N: I really apologize for how short this chapter and the last chapter are :l I really wanted to put up a chapter for each of their birthdays though, lame, I know. As always thank you for reading (: Reviews are much appreciated. 7/4 Happy Birthday Alfred! & Happy 4th of July!