Do I Really Hate Him? (Lafayette x Reader) [DISCONTINUED]

Chapter 1: Why Must It Be Him On My Doorstep?

   Hi! Thanks for stumbling across this book! There is a lot of French in this, but don't worry! I translated it for ya'll!

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I was laying on my bed like the sad human being I am, not knowing what to do. Since my mom and dad were discussing boring stuff like taxes and politics, hanging out with them was out. Well, it would've been out anyway, because, duh, they're my parents.

   You may be asking, "Oh, who are your parents, (Your Name)?" Well, I'll tell you.

   My parents are none other than George and Martha Washington.

   That may seem like the best thing in the world, but the truth is, it's not as much of a cakewalk as it seems. You may think that I get to surround myself with all these expensive things and that I get fancy dinners every night, but no.

   I'm not gonna complain about my home life, though, because it's pretty normal, despite my dad being an ex-commander. We live like any other family would, and personally, I'd rather that than live like a spoiled rich kid.

   I looked around my decent-sized room, sighing. My parents' conversation had switched from politics to how stupid King George was.

   I agreed with them on that topic, but that didn't mean I'd want to talk with them about it.

   I groaned, tapping a rythym on my bed's blankets as I tried to think of something to do.

   Read? No, I already did that, I thought, tapping my chin in thought. Write? No, we ran out of ink for our quills...

   My face lit up as I thought of the perfect idea:

   I could eat! Eating is and will always be the best cure for boredom.

   I sauntered downstairs and was walking to the kitchen when my dad stopped me. "What're you doing, hon?" he asked me.

   I turned around and went up to my parents, who were chatting in the living room. "Just getting a snack. Is that okay with you?"

   My mom said, "Dinner will be in an hour or two. I wouldn't want you to lose your appetite."

   I groaned. "But Mom!"

   "No buts," my dad said sternly. Ugh. He always took her side. And it always drove me nuts. "You're going to wait until dinner to eat. It'll be soon, don't worry."

   "Fine. All I was gonna have was a (your favorite fruit), anyway," I grumbled, crossing my arms.

   "Well, we respect your healthy choices!" my mom said with a smile.

   I rolled my eyes.

   Then, there was a knock at the door.

   Since I had nothing better to do, and since I didn't wanna have to hear my mom flapping her gums at this person at the door, I decided to answer it and talk to the mystery person myself.

   I walked to the door, humming a tune to myself.

   Once I opened it, I immediately wished I hadn't.

   "Lafayette?" I spluttered in disbelief.

   The hopeful smile on Lafayette's stupid face had faded as soon as he saw me. His eyes narrowed and he grumbled through gritted teeth, "Bonjour, (Y/N)."

   I squinted at the Frenchman, person, as a matter of fact, that I hated the most.

   You may be asking, "(Y/N), why did you hate this 'Lafayette' fellow so much?"