FrancexReader ~ I don't blush!More Like This
Tying up your hair into a messy bun, you checked yourself one last time in the mirror before running downstairs to the ringing doorbell. It was Saturday night and having nothing else important to do, you invited some friends over. Originally, Antonio, Gilbert and Francis should have all been here tonight.
But Lovino somehow got sick and Toni preferred staying home in order to take care of his rising fever. And as for Gilbert, you figured he had more important things to do since he didn't mention why he wasn't going to show up.
So tonight, it was just you and Francis. He said something about refusing to leave such a gorgeous girl alone on a Saturday evening.
You giggled to yourself, skipping towards your front door. Grabbing the doorknob, you opened it swiftly to reveal a grinning Frenchman holding a large bouquet of (fave flowers).
"Bonsoir, ma belle! Regarde, je vous ai apporté des fleurs! Vous les aimez?"
You gladly took the bouquet while rising
happy birthday to the Ita brosSsssooooo, it's March the 17th, Feli and Romano's birthdaaay! > v <More Like This
/throws confetti everywhere
happy birthday to them woohooooo yeah
Not a Single Thing The lights in the town were starting to dull as the residents all went to bed for the night. Even the sun had packed away it’s bright colours for the day, and left the night to the full moon which lingered above the pond, casting silhouettes of the American and the Briton on it’s unbroken surface.More Like This
Alfred leaned against the bridge’s railing, gazing into the pond as he watched the clouds part away from the bright moon. “I see Orion’s Belt.” he murmured, before glancing to Arthur. “And the Little Dipper...even the Big Dipper.”
Arthur nodded and looked up in the sky, his hands in his pockets. “It is a rather clear night. Which is odd for a night in December. Though there is a bit of snow falling.”
The gentle drape of Alfred’s jacket, engulfed Arthur’s slim shoulders. “You were shivering.” he told him him before pulling him close by his hip.
--Even when the Music is Gone --Even when the Music is GoneMore Like This
He was staring out the window, his emerald eyes watching nothing in particular. He wore an expression of sorrow and pain. It was obvious by the way his hands shook as they clasped onto his tea cup. He hadn't even touched it yet, being to nervous about what the events of the outdoors held this day. I could tell he was in pain as well, his other hand held the base of his back, as if he had a creak in it or there was a pinch in the disks.
I kept silent, stiring my bowl of oatmeal that he had prepared for me, aside from me scraping the burnt layer into the waste basket. I felt like there was an awkwardness in the air, and I'm not counting the arguement we had last night, about me bringing up taxes again.
He never liked me complaining about taxes.
At last he broke away from the window, taking a moment to glance over to the table to look me over. I was wearing one of the stuffy suits he had gotten