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“Bonjour, ma chèrie!” Francis slipped a rose into your lap. “I have just returned!”
Interrupted whilst u were in the middle of your book, u exclaimed, “Oi! I was reading, u wanker!” Swatting away the handsome Frenchman, u scowled as he attempted straddling you, lips seeking yours. “Hey! Hey!” Your protests were to no avail, however, and Francis was victorious as he planted a kiss upon your flustered lips.
Immediately, u gave in and kissed him back, rivaling his passion.
Sinking deeper into you, Francis pulled back briefly to smile and say, “Aha! I have tamed the shrew, non?” Rolling your eyes, u shut him up with another kiss. He chuckled, subtle stubble brushing against your cheek as he eventually lifted his head to kiss your forehead. “Actually, I have a proposition of sorts for u tonight.” His frisky eyes danced over u and u suspected it was sexual.
“Oh?” Interested, u propped yourself up. “And what exactly is that?”
Francis snorted, teasing you, “Silly, that would ruin la surprise!”
Resisting the urge to conk him upside the head, u folded your arms. “If u say so, Frog.” u pouted as he stood and strode away, but was pleasantly surprised when he returned with your favoriete tea. Cheeks flushing, u accepted it and muttered, “Thanks.”
“Anytime, ma belle.”
Sipping your thee carefully, your nose crinkled at the slightly harsh taste. Something wasn’t right. u glanced up at Francis, who was watching u without any amusement; of course u were suspicious. Skeptical, u cynically asked, “Pray tell, u didn’t put anything in my tea, did you?”
Francis raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know,” a smile crept onto his lips, “did I?”
Gingerly pressing the rim to your lips, u muttered, “Better not have, of I’ll have your head.”
Francis was delighted and his accent grew heavier. “Really? Where will u have it?”
Spluttering, thee spewing, u exclaimed, “Not like that u pervert! Dear God, won’t u go elsewhere?” Francis murmured something about God doing as he pleased and u gulped down the rest of your thee and irritably clinked it onto the nearest table. “I thought u had a meeting to attend?”
Francis chuckled, “Yes indeed, Mademoiselle Kirkland,” a favoriete nickname for you, referring of course to his bushy-browed friend, “but I came back to warn u that u should get some rest before tonight.” Suspicion immediately invaded your glare. “Now, I must be off.” Before u could respond, he seized a lock of your hair and tugged u into a parting kiss, winking as he pulled away. “Adieu!”
“Bye,” u murmured as he reached the door. For reasons unknown, u added, “I love you.”
Francis paused at the door, golden locks fanning over his shoulder as he turned to blow u another kiss, “Je t'aime, ma chèrie; je t'aime.” And just like that, he was gone and u were alone again. Sighing, u closed your book, finding that u were unable to focus. Stupid Frenchman was always flying in when u least expected him to.
As u scooped up your teacup, u felt suddenly tired and lay back down.
Francis’ dodgy warning played through your mind again.
“…you should get some rest before tonight.”
Remaining skeptical, u leaned your head against the pillow. Maybe some rest wouldn’t be such a bad idea? With all your nightly activities, courtesy of living with Francis, u didn’t get as much sleep as u used to. But going to sleep now would only disappoint u when u awoke; u loathed waking up without Francis beside you.
Your mind skidded to a halt.
That thought did not just pass through your mind.
Blushing in frustration, u slammed your eyes shut. u definitely needed meer sleep. Mind drifting, u were grateful when sleep claimed you, hoping that your memory would be erased for a couple hours. Dreams eased your former irritation, though u tossed and turned, subconsciously seeking the warmth that was Francis. How u had fallen so deeply in love with him, u really didn’t want to know.
It was hours before u regained consciousness.
“Mmm,” your eyes meshed as gentle exhales fluttered against your cheek, “kiss me, Francis…”
Warm lips were suddenly against yours and u groggily opened your eyes only to be smothered door darkness. Confused, u pushed at the chest on top, boven of yours, but were alleviated when u heard his gentle voice: “Hush, it is only me, ma amour.” Kissing u meer passionately as u calmed, Francis claimed u with his lips, hands tracing your prone body, hips moving against yours.
When he pulled away, u reached up to tangle your fingers in his wavy locks.
“I missed you,” Francis smiled, kissing you. “Now, u are ready, oui?”
“R-ready?” Your eyelids fluttered, entranced door the Frenchman’s spell. “For what, love?”
“Why, to say yes in my language,” Francis chuckled, “the language of l’amour.”
Pursing your lips, u sat up as Francis removed himself from the divan, bank and lit a candle. The room smelled heavenly. As u glanced towards him, u noticed that rose petals embellished the floor. When your gaze found Francis again, however, he was kneeling and presenting a little red box to you. With love reflected in his beautiful pools of blue, he sighed.
Francis met your eyes. “Though I may flirt with far meer creatures than I should,” u grimaced, “and though there are times that I may smother u to the point where u lose your adorable temper, I want u to know that je vous adore.” He stared sincerely into your eyes as he flipped open the box, smile overwhelmingly beautiful. “L’amour that I possess for u belongs only to u and I want your amour to be mine and mine alone, so…” He leaned vooruit, voorwaarts to kiss you. “…marry me?”
Choked up, being quite the romantic behind your tough front, u started to shake.
How could u stop yourself from crying?
Hand curling as u rubbed your eyes, u whimpered, “I l-love you, y-you stupid git. So,” your voice was thick as u tried to form words in English, but since u couldn’t, settled for maligning the Frenchman’s language instead, “o-oui, Francis.” Before u could wipe the tears from your eyes, Francis was upon u and kissing your lips so feverishly that u swore you’d never been happier.
“You ‘ave made me so ‘appy!” Even Francis’ words were overwhelmed. “Embrasse-moi, ma amour!”
Heeding his request, u kissed him. Sweeping u up from the divan, bank and into his arms, he carried u up the stairs into the bedroom, never breaking the kiss. Tumbling onto the bed between sheets and meer rose petals, the soft smell of linen lulled your lips into a hum as Francis’ mouth met yours. All things considered, he was the best thing that ever happened to you. Though, as Francis’ hands started wandering, as they would, an amusing thought entered your mind.
Smiling, u pulled away; u just had to make at least one cynical remark.
“So, will we refer to u of me as Madame Bonnefoy?”
Francis rolled his eyes, chuckling as he shushed u accordingly with a kiss. “I’m about to prove that the male one here is moi, Madame.” u laughed into the kiss, knowing full-well that this was exactly what u wanted. Hey, for a Frog, he really wasn’t that bad—but u kept that commentaar to yourself.
“Bonjour, ma chèrie!” Francis slipped a rose into your lap. “I have just returned!”
Interrupted whilst u were in the middle of your book, u exclaimed, “Oi! I was reading, u wanker!” Swatting away the handsome Frenchman, u scowled as he attempted straddling you, lips seeking yours. “Hey! Hey!” Your protests were to no avail, however, and Francis was victorious as he planted a kiss upon your flustered lips.
Immediately, u gave in and kissed him back, rivaling his passion.
Sinking deeper into you, Francis pulled back briefly to smile and say, “Aha! I have tamed the shrew, non?” Rolling your eyes, u shut him up with another kiss. He chuckled, subtle stubble brushing against your cheek as he eventually lifted his head to kiss your forehead. “Actually, I have a proposition of sorts for u tonight.” His frisky eyes danced over u and u suspected it was sexual.
“Oh?” Interested, u propped yourself up. “And what exactly is that?”
Francis snorted, teasing you, “Silly, that would ruin la surprise!”
Resisting the urge to conk him upside the head, u folded your arms. “If u say so, Frog.” u pouted as he stood and strode away, but was pleasantly surprised when he returned with your favoriete tea. Cheeks flushing, u accepted it and muttered, “Thanks.”
“Anytime, ma belle.”
Sipping your thee carefully, your nose crinkled at the slightly harsh taste. Something wasn’t right. u glanced up at Francis, who was watching u without any amusement; of course u were suspicious. Skeptical, u cynically asked, “Pray tell, u didn’t put anything in my tea, did you?”
Francis raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know,” a smile crept onto his lips, “did I?”
Gingerly pressing the rim to your lips, u muttered, “Better not have, of I’ll have your head.”
Francis was delighted and his accent grew heavier. “Really? Where will u have it?”
Spluttering, thee spewing, u exclaimed, “Not like that u pervert! Dear God, won’t u go elsewhere?” Francis murmured something about God doing as he pleased and u gulped down the rest of your thee and irritably clinked it onto the nearest table. “I thought u had a meeting to attend?”
Francis chuckled, “Yes indeed, Mademoiselle Kirkland,” a favoriete nickname for you, referring of course to his bushy-browed friend, “but I came back to warn u that u should get some rest before tonight.” Suspicion immediately invaded your glare. “Now, I must be off.” Before u could respond, he seized a lock of your hair and tugged u into a parting kiss, winking as he pulled away. “Adieu!”
“Bye,” u murmured as he reached the door. For reasons unknown, u added, “I love you.”
Francis paused at the door, golden locks fanning over his shoulder as he turned to blow u another kiss, “Je t'aime, ma chèrie; je t'aime.” And just like that, he was gone and u were alone again. Sighing, u closed your book, finding that u were unable to focus. Stupid Frenchman was always flying in when u least expected him to.
As u scooped up your teacup, u felt suddenly tired and lay back down.
Francis’ dodgy warning played through your mind again.
“…you should get some rest before tonight.”
Remaining skeptical, u leaned your head against the pillow. Maybe some rest wouldn’t be such a bad idea? With all your nightly activities, courtesy of living with Francis, u didn’t get as much sleep as u used to. But going to sleep now would only disappoint u when u awoke; u loathed waking up without Francis beside you.
Your mind skidded to a halt.
That thought did not just pass through your mind.
Blushing in frustration, u slammed your eyes shut. u definitely needed meer sleep. Mind drifting, u were grateful when sleep claimed you, hoping that your memory would be erased for a couple hours. Dreams eased your former irritation, though u tossed and turned, subconsciously seeking the warmth that was Francis. How u had fallen so deeply in love with him, u really didn’t want to know.
It was hours before u regained consciousness.
“Mmm,” your eyes meshed as gentle exhales fluttered against your cheek, “kiss me, Francis…”
Warm lips were suddenly against yours and u groggily opened your eyes only to be smothered door darkness. Confused, u pushed at the chest on top, boven of yours, but were alleviated when u heard his gentle voice: “Hush, it is only me, ma amour.” Kissing u meer passionately as u calmed, Francis claimed u with his lips, hands tracing your prone body, hips moving against yours.
When he pulled away, u reached up to tangle your fingers in his wavy locks.
“I missed you,” Francis smiled, kissing you. “Now, u are ready, oui?”
“R-ready?” Your eyelids fluttered, entranced door the Frenchman’s spell. “For what, love?”
“Why, to say yes in my language,” Francis chuckled, “the language of l’amour.”
Pursing your lips, u sat up as Francis removed himself from the divan, bank and lit a candle. The room smelled heavenly. As u glanced towards him, u noticed that rose petals embellished the floor. When your gaze found Francis again, however, he was kneeling and presenting a little red box to you. With love reflected in his beautiful pools of blue, he sighed.
Francis met your eyes. “Though I may flirt with far meer creatures than I should,” u grimaced, “and though there are times that I may smother u to the point where u lose your adorable temper, I want u to know that je vous adore.” He stared sincerely into your eyes as he flipped open the box, smile overwhelmingly beautiful. “L’amour that I possess for u belongs only to u and I want your amour to be mine and mine alone, so…” He leaned vooruit, voorwaarts to kiss you. “…marry me?”
Choked up, being quite the romantic behind your tough front, u started to shake.
How could u stop yourself from crying?
Hand curling as u rubbed your eyes, u whimpered, “I l-love you, y-you stupid git. So,” your voice was thick as u tried to form words in English, but since u couldn’t, settled for maligning the Frenchman’s language instead, “o-oui, Francis.” Before u could wipe the tears from your eyes, Francis was upon u and kissing your lips so feverishly that u swore you’d never been happier.
“You ‘ave made me so ‘appy!” Even Francis’ words were overwhelmed. “Embrasse-moi, ma amour!”
Heeding his request, u kissed him. Sweeping u up from the divan, bank and into his arms, he carried u up the stairs into the bedroom, never breaking the kiss. Tumbling onto the bed between sheets and meer rose petals, the soft smell of linen lulled your lips into a hum as Francis’ mouth met yours. All things considered, he was the best thing that ever happened to you. Though, as Francis’ hands started wandering, as they would, an amusing thought entered your mind.
Smiling, u pulled away; u just had to make at least one cynical remark.
“So, will we refer to u of me as Madame Bonnefoy?”
Francis rolled his eyes, chuckling as he shushed u accordingly with a kiss. “I’m about to prove that the male one here is moi, Madame.” u laughed into the kiss, knowing full-well that this was exactly what u wanted. Hey, for a Frog, he really wasn’t that bad—but u kept that commentaar to yourself.