"F-Francis..."
Slurred speech, her breath.
"Oh, ma petite fleur, I've wanted this for quite some time~" He kissed her neck, pressing her up against the wall in a bedroom he half-recognized, memory blurred by alchohol and time.
"You-ah~-we're...but, Roderich..."
He gave her a nice little nip below her jawline.
"Shh shh shh...shh~" He pressed his lips to hers once more, tasting something like tequila, along with a taste that could only be described as "Lizzie." Spice and cinnamon and mmm.
She kissed back, closing her eyes and relaxing, letting him press her harder against the wall. He ran his hand up her thigh, under her short cocktail dress.
To come to a party dressed like that and engaged, Francis took it that she was asking for this.
"What in the hell do you think you're doing?" The couple jumped, and Francis pulled away and looked at his friend, only to turn into a sharp punch which would later turn into a black eye.
"Gilbert...I..." Francis was not one for fighting. He'd always lose, and he couldn't bear to think of even trying to fight his best friend.
"How did you not know? The way I looked at her tonight, how I would watch her and that puss Rod! I invited her tonight to be in your place."
Oh yeah, that room was Gilbo's. Francis guessed that the bird in the corner should've probably had given it away, but he was drunk and had more on his mind at the time than if there was a canary in the room.
"I just-I...I'm sorry, Gil."
Elizabeta had long since disappeared.
"Bros for life, my ass."
And that was the last time he'd spoke to Gilbert Beillshmidt.
Francis downed the coffee in silence before the girl that he'd hooked up with at one damn party and lost one of his favorite people in the world.
Where was he?
And Antonio...
Antonio had never been able to pick a side after Francis and Gilbert had split, and felt as though he was constantly caught in the middle. He eventually split away from both of them. The Spaniard was always so cheery and bright. Francis would do anything for him right now.
Elizabeta watched Francis carefully. "Francey...?"
The blond looked up at her, silent.
"What's on your mind?"
He chuckled coldly. "How much I've fucked up."
The Hungarian took his hand. "It's never too late to get all of it back though."
Francis sighed. "After college I immediately stepped into the limelight, and left everyone behind. I...I have lost Gilbert and Antonio. I haven't spoken to them since the last year of college. I just...I-"
Elizabeta gave his hand a tough squeeze, the strongest and wisest person he knew. "Antonio is in town. He came in here maybe a month ago."
"I doubt he'd want to see me, mon cher."
She then had to hit him upside the head. "This is Antonio we're talking about. I don't think the guy has seen a sad day in his life."
Francis had instances he could name which proved the latter untrue, but he nodded. It would be much easier to gain Antonio back than Gilbert.
Unless...
No. That would take time. That would take actually finding the albino.
"Have you seen Gilbert?"
Lizzie shook her head. "Haven't heard a word from him." She looked solemn, her green eyes pointed downward.
Francis smiled at her. "Do you miss him?" He hoped she did, or else what he was planning would never work.
The Hungarian shrugged.
"He always had a funny way of going about things. It would be nice to see him again."
Francis stood then. "Well, I have to find someone anyway, or else I lose my job. I might as well pick up some of the pieces I've left along the way. Where is Antonio?"
"I hear he's started a tomato farm outside of a small village called Montigny-le-Roi. Whenever I saw him he mentioned that he had just ventured into the city to say that he had been to Paris."
Francis looked out the window. It had began to snow. He had a wild gleam in his eye. "How about you give me a refill. I think it's time that I paid old 'Toni a visit."