A day in the life (fruk)

5

This nightclub Alfred recommended for us was nice. There were neon lights everywhere and colourful carpets with interesting shapes. Then there were rounded booths all around for people to sit. I didn't want to do much besides drinking my problems away.

"Soooo...You give him THAT look when he is up to something? What did you think? In this case?"

"This again!? I just think it's suspicious how he always sends us off to be alone every time we visit. You and I both know why that is," I spoke. Francis continued to drink from his glass, shrugging. "Well, can you blame them? They saw us a certain way at a young age, and then it was ripped from them. I'm sure they only wish things would be simple like that again," he defended them. He had a point, but still. It was inappropriate now.

"Well, they need to prepare for disappointment because something like that will never happen," I spoke. Francis stayed silent and sat back against the cushion. He did not say anything right away, only looked like he was thinking hard about something. "Arthur, you never cease to surprise me with your words," he finally said.

I looked at him, confused and adjusted myself. At this point, we were more efficient as close friends. We had a good thing going on between us for once, and suddenly spilling our feelings would complicate things further. I'm content this way; I just wish he would decide and move on. I wasn't sure what was confusing him so much!

It was silent between us for some time before he started to move to a song that had suddenly begun to play. "Oh? This song came from your place, right?" He asked. He was moving side to side, doing a little dance. I couldn't help but look at him, confused but amused. His silly little dance was cute.

"What are you doing?"

"What? You don't like when I dance for you?"

"Pfft! No! Stop!" I chuckled. The seventies traumatized me with dancing. I shoved him lightly, and he pretended as if I did it harder. "Wow, you've gotten strong," he laughed. I rolled my eyes at him, laughing. He had begun to stand up, and I lifted my brow. "What are you doing? Sit down?" I demanded. Francis began to sway his hips side-to-side to the music, shaking his head.

"I like this song! Come on! Don't you like it?" He asked. With a swift motion, he used his feet to spin around to face me. As the music intensified, he danced more and sang to the song.

"You were working as a waitress in a cocktail bar! When I met you!" He sang. It caused me to laugh at him as he danced a little and sang to me.

"I picked you out, I shook you up and turned you around..."

"Hardly," I laughed. He began to dance more, and it caused me to sit up straight to watch him. I could tell he was only doing this to lighten our mood. We didn't like having to face our feelings. Even when one of us slightly wants to ask indirectly.

"Success has been so easy for you!"

"Not really!"

He reached for my hands, but I quickly moved away so he wouldn't touch me. I hated that I loved him so much.

"Don't!...don't you want me?"

"Nope!" I laughed. He had begun to point at himself and sing, and I couldn't help but cover my mouth to stop laughing. Francis suddenly pulled me from my seat, and I pushed him away slightly as he danced a little.

"It's much too late to find; you think you've changed your mind? You'd better change it back, or we will both! BE! SORRY! DON'T YOU WANT ME, BABY?" He sang.

I rolled my eyes at him trying to sit back down, but he stopped me. "DON'T YOU WANT ME, OOOOOOH?" He pulled my wrist and turned me around. "Do I need to answer that?" I teased.

He made me face him, and I stood still as he smiled, dancing. I had crossed my arms, staring at him, and felt so many emotions. I could kiss him right now if I wanted to. Kiss him long and hard as he deserved to be kissed. However, I wasn't that much of a twat.

"DON'T YOU WANT ME, BABY?" He sang. He grabbed my hands gently, locking our fingers together. "Francis, why must you make my life so much harder," I laughed. He stopped singing and dancing, standing still as he held my hands in his. "Arthur, You make living hard. You make my life hard to live. I don't even think you realize how much," he spoke. Francis smiled at me sweetly, and I looked down at our hands.

His hands were soft, with a few feeling of scars here and there. "Well, I suppose we are both difficult to be around," I spoke. I looked up at him, slowly letting go of his hands. The only thing that held us together was our pinkies holding onto each other. "Two difficult people? We were made for each other," he teased. Oh, how I wish that were true.

"Oh really? I'm surprised you've put up with me for so long!"

"It's worth it, trust me!"

"Pfft, I insult you in one hundred different ways!"

"Different, CLEVER ways," he laughed.

I smiled at him once more, fully letting go of his hands. I was starting to get that sad feeling again. The sad feeling where I wanted to go home and lay in bed forever. The feeling where I wished I could have been born anyone else but me. Maybe I wouldn't have so much on my mind if I were.

I wish I could die.

I wondered how Francis dealt with it, how he was able to live with everything. He seemed way happier than me, and I was a bit jealous. "What's wrong?" He asked. I took a seat, still smiling. Francis quickly sat beside me and looked at me so worried. How?

How could he care about me so much? What did he like about me? I was an evil person who did terrible things. It doesn't make sense to me. How could someone like him possibly love someone like me?

"Say, can we just call it a night? I think I want to go to bed. I'm feeling a bit ill," I lied. I tried not to look at him, but I could sense he was still trying to look at me.

"Ill? Let me see?" He spoke. He forced my body to face him by touching my shoulders and turning me. "Ah, look at me," he demanded softly. I looked at him, a bit annoyed; all he could do was smile. "Ah! You might be ill! I can see it in your green eyes! What are you hiding in there? Or do I need clearance? Maybe a password?"

"Oh please, I'm not well, and you are making fun of me!"

"Well? What else do you want me to do? Smother you? You want all my attention, don't you?"

"No! Maybe some sympathy! Instead of teasing!"

"Oh? Really? Okay then... let's leave then! I will be so sympathetic to you in our hotel room that you won't feel ill anymore. You might feel something else," he laughed. I groaned from frustration, grabbing my coat. "Come on! Let's leave!" I demanded. I could hear him laughing as he watched me gather myself. "Alright! Since you are so eager!"