Francis started school three days later on the following Monday. The night before Arthur had packed his backpack and prepared a lunch for the boy so they would be all set to go as soon as they were dressed. Arthur had also told Francis to pick out what he wanted to wear on his first day which had turned out to be a good decision.
After telling him to decide on his clothes, Arthur had gone downstairs to pull together the boy's backpack and lunch. That had taken nearly half an hour and when he went back upstairs to check on Francis, he found clothes all over the room and a frantic child in the middle of it all.
"What is going on here?" he demanded and the boy flew around to face him, tears in his nervous eyes.
"Mr. Arthur," he whimpered. "I cannot decide! All of these clothes are very nice but they do not feel right!"
The boy threw himself onto the bed, crying quietly.
With a frustrated sigh Arthur stepped into the room, glancing around at all of the clothes. Nearly every item in the closet had been pulled out so only a few were left hanging inside. The ones left inside were either meant for sleeping or a far more formal event.
"Keep thinking and I will be right back," he finally said before turning around and leaving the room." When he returned he was carrying a cardboard box similar to the ones he had brought down from the attic in France's house. There was something written on the side but Francis could not read it and Arthur did not seem likely to read it to him. "See if there is anything you like in here," he began stiffly, not looking at Francis or the box. "If you do, hang it up and let me know. I want you to be ready for tomorrow before you go to bed so that things go as smoothly as possible. I don't want to be running around in a tizzy which could make us late."
"Okay," Francis replied solemnly, approaching the box. "I will."
The following morning woke up at six and immediately slipped out of bed and shuffled over to his attached bathroom to take a shower. Twenty minutes later he stepped out and quickly dressed for the day.
He chose a light gray suit with which he matched a simple black tie. Once his teeth were brushed, his hair combed, and his tie straight with a Full Windsor Knot, most important of all, he padded downstairs to begin cooking some hearty oatmeal for both himself and Francis. The kettle was placed to heat up on the stove on his way back upstairs.
As he reached Francis' door he paused. No sound could be heard from inside so he assumed the boy was still asleep. Knocking quietly, he opened the door and peered inside.
Francis was not asleep like he had thought but was instead sitting at the desk looking out the window, still in his nightclothes.
"Good morning," Arthur whispered to the still child. "How long have you been awake?"
The boy turned to look at the clock on his bedside that Arthur had added a few days prior.
"A couple of hours," he responded in a quiet voice.
"Did you sleep well?"
He shook his head.
"I kept thinking about how I start school today."
"Ah," Arthur replied, somewhat lamely. "Well, come downstairs. Breakfast should be ready by now." The boy stood and obediently followed him to the kitchen, the shrill cry of the kettle his greeting. "Go sit down at the table and I will bring you a bowl."
Francis did as he was asked and a few moments later a bowl of gray oatmeal was placed in front of him along with a glass of milk. Arthur joined the table after filling his own bowl and pouring himself a cup of tea.
"Are you nervous about today?" he asked after an extended silence. Francis nodded. "How come? Are you worried about the coursework or the teacher? Or your classmates?" He didn't receive an answer.
Attempting to communicate with this Francis was difficult and off-putting. No matter how things were between them, they had always been able to talk. Usually Francis was full of topics but this younger version of him seemed unwilling to talk to him if he could help it.
Breakfast continued in silence. When Francis was finished, Arthur sent him upstairs to brush his teeth and hair and get dressed. Sneaking a quick look at his watch, he discovered it was nearly seven. They were keeping to his schedule well.
He walked to the entryway, grabbing Francis' backpack along the way; a simple check inside assured him that the lunch he prepared the night before was resting safely inside along with all the boy's school supplies. The bag was set down by the door so he could pull out shoes for the two of them. A pair of gray Oxfords and a pair of tan loafers for Francis.
Shortly after pulling them out, Francis joined him in the hallway wearing tan pants, a white button up shirt with a high collar, and a brown vest. He quickly slipped his shoes on.
"Are you ready?" Francis nodded and Arthur picked up his briefcase and his backpack. "Then let's go."
AN: There's been a lot going on that has caused all my stories to be put on hold. I finally graduated college though so now it's summer job and finding my adult job. I've had a week off so I have done a little writing (I have up to chapter 11 done) but I can't promise that things will be updated too often.
Italics- speaking in French or internal thoughts
No Italics- speaking in English