|Third Person|
Victor Dubois perks up from his slumped position in his rickety hospital chair pushed right up against his wife's bed when he hears a hesitant knock on the door. His eyebrows furrow momentarily as the door creaks open slowly. A second later, a familiar head of frizzy hair yanked back in a messy ponytail appears, and Victor can't help his grin.
"Lafayette," he breathes, standing shakily from his seat to greet his grandson.
Lafayette steps into the room, his eyes first falling over his frail grandfather, and then to his sickly grandmother asleep in the hospital bed. The skin around her cheekbones and eyes sags a little, and her lips that are usually painted red and stretched in a wide smile, are chapped and dull.
"Bonjour, grand-pere," he greets, wrapping his arms around his grandfather's thin frame and sighing into his shoulder. When he pulls away, Hercules has appeared at his side, their bags at his feet. "C'est Hercules," he introduces, stepping aside to introduce his boyfriend to his grandfather.
"Ravie de vous rencontrer, monsieur," Hercules says with a sympathetic smile. He reaches his hand forward to shake Victor's firmly.
"You will, uh- how you say- take care of my grandson," he stammers. He smiles softly at Hercules, and then at Lafayette who laces their fingers together.
"Of course," he nods, and then pulls Lafayette closer to his side as if to further support his point.
Victor leaves Hercules and Lafayette alone after that, saying he has something to discuss with the nurse and that he'll wait for them until visiting hours are over in thirty minutes. Hercules leans their bags against the wall beside the door and stays at the foot of the bed as Lafayette sits in the seat his grandfather was just in.
"Grand-mere?" He whispers, reaching forward to brush a strand of his grandmother's wavy grey hair from her forehead. "Hercules is here," he tells her. "He wants to meet you."
Marie hums in her sleep, her muted grey eyes opening slowly to fall upon her grandson's face. Her dry and cracked lips lift into a smile that looks almost painful, but return a little of the light returns back to her eyes.
"You look so grown, Lafayette," she muses, looking over his face. Her eyes flit to Hercules gleefully. "At ton copain est très attirant," she whispers from the side of her mouth.
"He speaks French, grandmother," Lafayette says with a chuckle.
"Oh, well then tell him to get over here to say bonjour," she demands, craning her head to see Hercules approaching the other side of her bed.
"Bonjour, Mrs. Dubois," he says softly, bending over the bed a little to get a better view of her.
"You do good by my boy, Hercules," she tells him firmly. "I won't be here much longer to make sure he's eating enough- look at him! Thin as a noodle!" Her eyes get wide as she speaks, almost like they're trying to express the energy her body no longer can. She coughs at the end of her sentence, her shoulders shaking almost violently with the act alone. Lafayette reaches out to her comfortingly as she finishes, the reality of just how much his grandmother's health has declined in the past few weeks alone setting in. A rock of guilt and fear sinks to the pit of his stomach, and the heat of tears pushes behind his eyes.
"Herc and I have to leave soon, grand-mere," he informs her. "But we'll be back first thing tomorrow morning," he promises, swallowing back tears for now, telling himself there was no need to look weak in front of someone who could remain so strong when a simple cough stole all their energy.
"Make sure your grandfather eats a big breakfast, Lafayette," he tells her. "He's getting skinny just like you," she mutters, her eyelids fluttering shut. "Maybe make those crepes with the fruit like you used to," she suggests, her words getting slow and tired.
Hercules glances across the bed to his boyfriend, staring sadly down at the frail remnants of his grandmother, telling him that he looks too skinny when she couldn't weigh more than ninety or so pounds at this point. He reaches across her lap and traps Lafayette's hand for a brief moment, bringing his eyes up to his long enough to flash him a sympathetic and reassuring look. Lafayette sighs, pulling himself back together before releasing Hercules' hand.
"Sure thing," he tells her softly, leaning down to kiss his grandmother's papery cheek. He brushes a stray strand of hair from her forehead, and for a second, he tries to imagine her the way he did when he was kid- strong, and beautiful, and invincible.
Hercules stands against the wall while Lafayette spends the last few minutes of visiting hours holding his grandmother's hand and stroking her face, seemingly lost in a trance. When a nurse knocks on the door to tell them it's time to go, Hercules has to tap his boyfriend's shoulder to bring him back to the present. He doesn't say anything on the ride to his childhood home in a taxi his grandfather hailed.
When they get home, they dine on the leftovers in the fridge for dinner, which mostly consists of cold lasagna and an old salad. It's about ten when Lafayette's grandfather shuffles down the hall to his bedroom. Hardly twenty minutes after that, Lafayette tells Hercules that he's tired too, and the pair change into sweats and settle into the rickety bed in Lafayette's old room.
It's not until they're in the solitude of the dark room, the single window cracked open to allow the sounds of the busy roads surrounding the neighborhood to drift through that Lafayette finally allows himself to cry. It's only for a second, but the painful sob that leaves his throat, immediately muffled by Hercules' chest has him feeling immensely better.
And, when his eyes have dried completely, Hercules rubs his back and asks him if he wants to talk about. Lafayette just shakes his head and presses his face back into his chest because there's nothing more for him to say anymore.
I had a plot for this, but I'm going to rework it a little. Hope you're enjoying this.
<3
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