One Punk Man

7.

"Wow," Sakura breathed while watching the city through the window. She and Arthur had switched seat places, so she could marvel over Paris' buildings. He had insisted on it, leaving no room for discussion. Francis turned around – he was sitting in front of them to Arthur's dismay – and talked about the beauty of his hometown. Sakura smiled, appreciating his descriptions of the city. Although the Brit was extremely content to see how fascinated she was, Arthur was slightly unnerved that she admired Francis' birth town. It was a silly thought, he admitted, but he wished she would be as fascinated by his native country as she was by the Frenchman's. He sighed, annoyed by his own exaggerated thinking. "Are you alright?" Sakura asked him concerned.

"Yes, I just want to get out of this bus," he confessed. After driving for almost four hours, the Brit wanted to leave the bus; it was too stuffy. The bus driver was looking for a parking lot by the museum. After ten minutes, he found one, on the opposite of the Musée d'Orsay, near the Pont Royal. The teacher made a quick announcement to meet up by the bus at eight o'clock in the evening.

"Finally," Arthur muttered, standing up, grabbing his things as the others were also preparing to leave the vehicle. The fresh air was embracing their tired forms. "It's cold," Sakura muttered to herself. Despite her winter coat, the freezing winds were cooling her body temperature down. Arthur, having heard her comment, placed his both hands on her shoulders. "Don't worry, we will be in the building as fast as possible."

He did not like the thought of her catching a cold and shot the teachers a glare. After everyone was outside the vehicle, the group of students moved to the museum.

Arthur, Sakura, Emily and Marguerite found themselves between the works of Gauguin, Van Gogh, Monet and Courbet. The artists of the Expressionism, Realism and Pointillism enchanted the audience with their perfect brushstrokes which supported their illustrative portrayal of history and deception of art. The teacher explained every important painting (leaving the guide speechless who was not needed and could not provide as much information as the class' teacher). Sakura was enthralled by all the pieces and background history. After the touring, the teachers told them to venture through the city and reminded the students to meet again at eight o'clock.

"Do you want to see the Eiffel Tower?" Arthur asked Sakura during their lunch in a French bistro. His sisters silently watched them, hoping for Sakura to give a positive reply. The Japanese nodded, feeling excited to see the famous French architectonic monument. After having eaten, the four walked to the most famous French construction. The grand park in front of the tower was the perfect place to shot some group pictures.

"It's an amazing sight."

Arthur could only agree with her (which he would never admit loud in front of a certain Frenchman). Her excitement and reactions were adorable and he could not prevent his face from colouring red. As they arrived under the Eiffel Tower, the four decided to take the stairs to the first storey. It was a difficult task but they managed and Arthur was watching Sakura taking every step (just in case).

She slipped at the end and almost fell, had it not been for the Brit to catch her.

"A-Are you alright?" He asked with a concerned face and a racing heart. Sakura's body was unable to move due to their proximity. She could feel his body heat radiating from him, his breath tickling her neck. The world had stilled, with both of them on the staircase on the Eiffel Tower, his arms around her, keeping her safe from every danger. Sakura needed several seconds to answer his question. But despite her efforts to form words, the only movement she was able to do was a nod.

The Brit, whose arms were still lingering protectively around her, was enjoying this moment before letting reluctantly go of her.

The sight from above to the City was breath taking and many pictures were made. The four visited other monuments and places before it was time for them to return to the bus. Emily was the first to sit on her seat. "Woah, it really was exhausting but beautiful."

Her sister agreed, settling herself next to her.

"It was amazing," Sakura said with a big smile. Arthur agreed, and both talked on the way back home.

"Do you know that we will swim in physical education next month?"

"W-What?" Arthur was shocked. He did not know what to think of that. He was concerned and it was something no one knew: the boy could not swim. He had never learned it as a child and he had avoided those lessons in school as often as possible. This time he could not avoid it; he could if he wanted to, but he certainly did not want Francis to flirt with Sakura while she would be in a swimsuit. And he did not want to miss the chance seeing her in such a suit, he mused, blaming his hormones for such thinking. His cheeks turned red. "I- I hate swimming," he half-lied, not looking at her. In spite of not exposing his fright and secret, Sakura detected his lie. After spending weeks with each other in company, she could read him and his behaviour. Her staring did not cease and the punk slowly returned her gaze, realising that she had indeed noticed that something was off. "It will be alright," she whispered, laying her hand on his. He sighed, letting his head fall in his right hand. To not mention the topic any further, Sakura took out her camera. "We can look through the pictures we made."

Hours passed and every present in the bus was on the verge of falling asleep which in the end they did, except Arthur. He observed his Japanese neighbour, who was sleeping with her head on his shoulder. After some minutes, she shook a little because of the coldness in the bus. Arthur, having his Jacket in front of his seat placed it neatly on her. 'She looks adorable with my coat,' he thought gently. The Brit did not mind her head on his shoulder or his jacket on her form. He wore a gentle smile and enjoyed this never ending moment.

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[A/N: The teacher in this chapter is inspired by my Art history teacher from my last year. He gave a fuck about the tour/museum guide people (I have no idea how they are called in English xD sorry) and told us everything he knew about the artists in that museum (he has a PhD in art history and published several articles, and holy shit he really knows what he is talking about :P). I read that Iggy cannot swim (but I don't know if is canon or not but I saw the chance and I took it :'D, so you know what next chapter will be like :'D). ]