Sweet Dreams | Finn Mikaelson (book 2)

12. You Will Be Happy In The End (Fran)

A/N: I feel like I'm indulging with some tropes I usually dislike in romance stories, but tbh I think it's cute when those tropes are used in queer relationships. And you know what? I feel like we deserve a cute gay Finn Mikaelson story with overused tropes and just a lot of adorable stuff. So this is what we shall have.On a side note: I'm loving all the comments! So remember to leave your thoughts AND vote too please!

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City of Somnia, Kingdom of Lacertus, Southern Italy. 1424.

Ever since the day Francesco heard the name of the lords, who would soon arrive, he could not focus on his work. The worries, and sinful thoughts, about vampires and pretty lords kept him awake–but not for too long... His usual nightmares of Hell fire and flaming pyres, were now filled with distorted images of people he had not yet meet. One of such dreams–and the most frequent–was of a man around Fran's age, with light brown hair and sweet hazel-green eyes. He haunted Fran's dreams like a starving creature. For almost a month, Francesco dread waking up. In his dreams, he could taste the man's lips, feel his soft hands, touch his face...all in such vivid detail. As though it was a memory and not a dream.

But at last, Fran always had to wake up, and go about his day as though he was not simply waiting to lie down in bed and met his mysterious love again.

The dreams worried him, especially while he walked through the city or talked to his uncle. What if they know? A voice within him whispered, terrified. Or worst, what if the dreams mean something? Francesco already knew only men attracted him, and that was his sin to bear. But he was hellbent on ignoring his most sinful desires. If not for his own life and safety, then at least for his mother's soul. Regina would be devastated if she lost her only son of the flaming pyres–and Aldo would never recover from the shame of having a sodomite nephew.

Breaking his mother's heart was the last thing Francesco ever wanted–he didn't much care about his uncle's shame, though.

While he walked through the busy streets of Somnia, Fran played his latest dream in his head; savoring the sweetness of a kiss he could never have while awake. These new dreams were the perfect distraction from the increasing pressures in Francesco's life.

After a week of listening to his mother–nonstop–pestering him about the opportunity to train as a royal valet, Fran gave in. Volunteering and training meant more time away from his mother's and uncle's draining suggestions–they always had such strong opinions about Francesco's life and what he should be doing with it. Not that his training to be a valet was over. However, Fran burned with anxiety. He was sure he had failed his test, and the headmaster of the castle would never allow him to work as a valet or even as a squire. Not that he minded; dressing self-important lords was never his dream. But, like Alissa insisted on adding whenever he complained about the training, the payment was rather good; and they could use some extra income–especially if there was another poor harvest, and prices of food increased after the winter. Besides, Regina would be so disappointed if Fran failed.

"Mother won't mind," Zeta, his littlest sister, said, tugging at his sleeve as they marched towards the cathedral of Saint Valentine–the patron saint of their city. "I'm sure she will be happy either way."

Zeta, as per usual, had read her brother's thoughts. She had the unusual talent of always knowing what others were thinking and knowing about things before they even happened. No one in their family ever found an explanation for such things, but they also never thought much about it. Aldo was the only one who never even noticed Zeta's odd talents, but that was for the best–otherwise, he might have called her a witch.

"I hope so, little flora." Francesco sighed, pulling his young sister closer to him. "Otherwise, I might have to become a monk to escape Mother and uncle Aldo's scolding."