Gregstophe: Your Love Is My Drug!

Chapter Three!

It had been a couple weeks since Christophe heard from Gregory. He didn't want to show up at the Yardale mansion, for fear that he wouldn't be welcome... But times were futile for the Frenchman's feelings.

He sighed and tied his boot laces and slung his shovel over his shoulder, just in case, before he set out for the elegant home.

Not even twenty minutes later he arrived at the gates. He pressed the intercom. "Hello, Yardale residence."

Obviously. He thought, "Yeah. It's me, Christophe... Is Gregory home?"

A pause. That couldn't be good. "I am sorry, Sir, but Gregory left for Aristotle Academy about a week ago. I would have been almost certain he would have told you of this."

It felt like a nail was driving into his chest. "What...? He went to boarding school?! Did his parents make him?!" He asked with a desperate tone.

"As I heard it, he left so he could rethink things about his life. He suggested it to his father so he wouldn't have to see someone. Do you know who?"

A tear slid down his cheek. "Non... I have no idea." Lies. He knew. He couldn't accept it. Gregory didn't want him anymore.

With that: Christophe ran away from his childhood memories, unaware of the guilty look in the lady of the house's eyes.

*****

"It's just not fair!" Christophe screamed as he threw, yet again, another mug. It smashed upon impact.

"Are you certain he left of his own will?" Pip asked with a soft voice, gently putting his hand on Christophe's shoulder.

Christophe would say he had no friends, but he would be lying. He had only three: Gregory, Pip, and Damien. They were the only people whom he would trust.

"Yes... Merci," Christophe took the tea Pip offered, "I am certain. Zhat bastard!"

"Who's a bastard, I mean, besides me?" Damien's cool tone asked as he entered the room. They were all currently in Pip's house.

Christophe looked up. "Gregory. 'Es gone and I 'ate 'im." His accent flared up when he was in any kind of emotional state. Be it angry or utterly in love. His accent would always shine through.

"Ah, I see. You must be pissed." Damien said casually, sitting against Pip's bed.

Pip shook his head. "I still don't think Gregory would do this. It doesn't seem like him."

Christophe threw his hands in the air. "Well it did! 'E just left! 'E didn't even tell me! And I know 'e 'as 'is phone, zhere are updates on zhe stupid Facebook and Instagram."

"You finally got one? Follow me." Damien said, peering over Christophe's shoulder.

The frenchie shoved him away. "Non. I need want to see 'is stupeed face again!" He exclaimed as he threw his phone, shattering the screen along with the broken shards of mugs.

Pip sighed softly, "Damien, you better magic this all up." He said to his demonic partner.

"Of course I will." Damien said with an eyeroll, though he never meant any of his bad 'tude towards the angelic boy.

Pip stood up, "Maybe we could try talking to him?"

"Do what you want." Christophe hissed before leaving the house.