(A/N Lucille is Monaco, Michelle is Seychelles, and Marianne is nyo!france idk why I made her younger tho. Apologies if I got any french words, grammar whatever wrong)
Francis woke up to a dimly lit room, the wine colored curtains of his window casting a purple glow on everything. He sat up, stretching, and looked at the sleeping form curled up in a mini nest of blankets. Aha that's who stole all the blankets in the middle of the night and left me to freeze. He thought, his lips curling up into a gentle smile. Matthew was sound asleep, clutching his stuffed bear, golden hair spread in a halo around his head. Francis got up, careful not to disturb Matthew, and walked into the adjoining bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror, dreading the day.
Another day of pretending that everything is ok. Like my heart hasn't been torn apart. But the heart will heal... eventually.
He grabbed a brush and ran it through his hair, wincing as the bristles snagged at small knots. He absentmindedly ran his fingers over the small roses carved into the handle, a reminder of his homeland. He missed France so much it hurt. Sure, spending five years in Canada was semi-tolerable, especially since everyone there spoke French, even if it was Canadian. He missed walking along the banks of the Seine river, gazing at the skyline of Paris at dawn. He missed his friends that he left behind in Europe. He missed his little sisters, Lucille, Marianne and Michelle. Closing his sky colored eyes, Francis let himself fall back into memories.
"Francis! Attends-moi!" (wait for me) His sister, Lucille, pouted, crossing her arms and trying to look as stern as a six year old could. Eleven years younger than Francis, who was the oldest of four children, she was unusually serious, something that Francis and nine year old Marianne loved to tease her about.
"Tu es si lent!" (you're so slow) Marianne whined, stopping to wait for her sister, retying her shoes, a few strands of hair escaping from her ponytail to bounce around her face. Seventeen year old Francis turned around to face them, one year old Michelle held securely in his arms. Michelle giggled, grabbing a lock of hair that had fallen out of Francis's own ponytail.
"Dépêchez-vous!" (hurry up) Francis sighed, tapping his foot impatiently. He hadn't seen his two best friends in forever, and they were all bringing their little siblings. But of course they had to choose today of all days to crawl at a snail's pace.
"Dis ça á elle."(tell that to her) Marianne responded, nodding at Lucille, who had caught up with them.
"Luciiiiiii~" Francis sang, getting down on one knee to be at her level. "Dépêchez-vous s'il vous plaît ou nous ne serons pas là à l'heure." (Hurry up please or we won't be there on time)
Lucille stuck her nose in the air and turned around with a huff, still bitter at being left in the dust. "Non." she sniffed.
"D'accord." (Ok) Francis placed Michelle on the soft grass and scooped Lucille up, sitting the stubborn child on his shoulders. She yelped and wrapped her arms around Francis's head, alarmed at the sudden change. A giggling Marianne picked up Michelle, and began to jog to a grove of trees, where a group of people were gathering. Francis laughed and stood up, beginning to also head in that direction while holding onto Lucille's legs to make sure she didn't fall.
"Francis! Oh dios mío when the hell did you grow two heads amigo?!" one of Francis's friends shrieked.
"Antonio you dummkopf zhat's his little schwester!" Another voice shouted.
Francis set Lucille down, and she quickly ran off to play with the other children. "Bonjour mes amis!" he yelled, running forward to greet them.
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Finally Noticed
FanfictionArthur Kirkland is a successful lawyer in Philadelphia, living alone with his five year old son, Alfred F. Jones. When he takes the case of Francis Bonnefoy, a Frenchman battling his ex-wife for custody of their son, Matthew Williams, will this lead...