Typical South Park One Shots and Readers ATTENTIONClosed for Requests

Je t'aime(Christophexfrenchreader)

Christophe at the side anime style. Okay song is Lovesick fool by the Cab.Dedicated to creepyrhiana_MID for requesting him and french reader.

AFD

I walked into the check out line. It was incredibly long today. I tried looking further to see the cause. Nothing, I could see nothing. A scream told me the problem though.

"What do you mean it's not enough!" I heard a girl scream. The man at the register rolled his eyes. I could hear her stomp her foot.

"Well miss I'm not sure you're accustom to our currency yet. Euros and dollars have a slight difference in cost." He said delicately. This was a pain. She had probably just moved into the country. I got out of the line stepping forward. I handed the cashier my credit card. He gave me an odd look. I had stolen it but how could he know. I didn't look towards the girl already knowing if I did I'd scream. The man took the credit card scanning it. "Thank you sir." I smirked as I reached over stuffing some cigarettes in my pocket. I began to walk away.

"Uh... Th...ank you." She whispered. Again I didn't look back. I closed my eyes raising my hand towards her.

"It's nothing." I sighed walking out of the store.

I sat down sighing like I had when I walked out of the store. I lay back in my chair chewing on a pencil. They didn't allow smoking here not even at Yardale. This was annoying I needed my fix. Our teacher was talking about algebra now. How to find x and y that bull shit. I sank into my chair finally being able to sleep.

One simple name made my eyes pop open. "___. Now welcome her to our class children!" The teacher shouted. My eyes wandered to the middle of the classroom where she stood. Her (h/c) hair dangled on her shoulder. I didn't get it. Why did ___ seem so familiar. I frowned biting my lip. Not only did I want nicotine I wanted to know why I had this ache empty feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"Can she even speak English!" A boy screamed. I narrowed my eyes why was he being so accusing. Maybe I zoned something out, I mean I didn't even realize her walking into the classroom. I licked my lips waiting for someone to speak. The teacher answered my prayers.

"Just because someone's not born in the United States doesn't mean they don't speak our language, remember you're at Yardale now Gregory, I don't know how they treated people at South Park elementary but here we treat students properly!" She screamed. My eyes turned dull at my stupidity. How could I have not noticed it was Gregory who spoke. Maybe I was still trying to wrap my head around who this girl was.

Reader's P.O.V

Christophe, was it him, was it my Christophe. The one who always managed to save my hide. Maybe I was just seeing things. His brown spiky hair was dull as usual the same dark bags under his eyes. The only difference was that he didn't have a cigarette in his mouth. I shrugged it off, no it couldn't be the Christophe from back then, not the one I knew who was a seven year old, my super hero.

***Flashback***

I was walking down the street it was crowded as usual. "Papa I... I don't... Understand... Where'd you GO!" I screamed my throat hoarse from my scream. The streets seemed longer now, the strangers more numerous, the sun disappearing before my very eyes. Even the the Eiffel Towerseemed like it was galaxies away. I bit my lip holding my hands. My knees gave out as I wailed to the top of my lungs. "Papa!" My knees hit the cement hard and I cried even more. I looked down at the floor, I was lost.

A soft hand touched my shoulder. I looked up tears still in my eyes. "Vous êtes perdu?" He looked a little annoyed. He wasn't like the others he seemed upfront about his feelings. It seemed he didn't have any meaning to his words. Maybe he just felt a little worried. Just a bunch of lies.

He gave me a weird look. "Oui..." I whispered.

"Can we cut the French crap, I really don't want to be reminded I was born in this wasteland." I opened my mouth to speak but he quickly signaled me to shut up. "Turn right when you reach the intersection, you'll be fine... Unless of course you can't speak English." He teased. Again I frowned. At the time it was true. I only had limited knowledge of English. I crossed my arms walking passed him.

***later***

Lost, completely desperately lost. I bit my lip again. This time it was dark. This time the streets were more hallow. Not as many people and even more cars. I hated this, wasn't papa worried, worried at all. First it was slow, then it was fast then hard. Worst part, I hadn't brought an umbrella. If I had, that would be with papa as well. I managed to situate myself under a dam. Of course it wasn't the safest place but it was the driest place in Paris. I sighed letting my tears soak my arms again. Maybe papa didn't want me back.

"Again...." I lifted my head looking at him. "What's your name I'll walk you home." My eyes widened. I didn't think I understood that. Or at least it was too outrageous for me to believe it. He stuck his hand out towards me. "Come on ___, we go to the same school, you really don't think I'd forget a classmate even if you never talk." He smiled softly. It took a few seconds to process it but eventually I too had a big smile. "Je m'appelle Christophe." He cooed before forcing me to my feet.

***End of flashback***

After that we never spoke. He saved me on several occasions when I was accused of plagiarism, graffiti, fire, and when I contemplated running away. Although he expressed to me on several occasions that we were friends he never said it. I shook my head I had to focus. We were learning about decimals and such. I took a seat next to Christophe, just to ensure myself it wasn't him. He paid no attention to me, he glared at a blonde curly haired boy just three seats away.

"___, what is the answer to number two?" She asked patiently. I looked up to the board. 2x1. I smiled knowing I had this.

"Deux." I proudly proclaimed. Everyone began to laugh.

Christophe P.O.V

The laughter that followed didn't seem necessary but it did seem weird. Could she speak English? Why did her voice sound so... Familiar. Even her name made me bite my tongue. It made my throat close and the hair on the back of my neck stood. "That means two in French..." I said without thinking. She faced me with a slanted smile. The teach nodded in approval.

"Correct." She sighed shuffling some papers. I found myself staring at her once again. Her (h/c) hair seemed oddly familiar. Her disinterest didn't match her face and her eyes spoke words of desperation. What was all the fuss about?

"You speak French." She whispered. I couldn't speak, what was this. I shut my mouth not wanting to look stupid. I smirked knowing my answer.

"Yes." I tried to smile but I found myself frowning. I didn't like to think of the old hell hole I came from. Her eyes widened and she smiled bigger. I didn't know why but I felt a slight blush.

The blaring of the bell made me sigh of relief I didn't need any silly emotions especially concerning a strange girl who spoke French. I laughed to myself, what a coincidence. I was in the middle of lighting my cigarette when a soft push to the arm made me drop my cigarette. I frowned about to curse the son of a bitch. When I turned around I forced a smile. "What do you want, ___?" I couldn't speak anymore. The words, they rolled off my tongue with ease like it was meant to be. "___." I whispered. She brought me into a hug.

"Do you remember... Christophe?" She whispered in my ear. I blushed redder now. My eyes widened. I couldn't speak but I didn't have to. "I've been so lonely and embarrassed. It almost feels unreal that papa is-" She burst into tears. "I've been waiting to see you again. When I need you the most my superhero comes to my rescue." She sniffled. I smiled remembering that cold day.

"Je t'aime..." I whispered pulling her head up. She wiped her tears with a gasp.

"Christophe you said you'd never-"

"I know speak that language again but... For you." I smiled. "Just say it back already __, you're killing me."

She smiled I could almost hear her heart race. "Je t'aime Christophe." I pulled her into a deep kiss.