My new roommate (FrUK)

Chapter two

Okay, all I have to do is say those words correctly, and I got it. I smiled to myself, excited as I put my luggage down so I could open my dorm room. I walked in, and it was quiet; maybe I do not have a roommate? I carried my things inside and saw someone. He was reading a book when he looked up to me. This is my chance to introduce myself. "Hello...My name is Francis," I managed to say with my accent seeping through a lot. It took me the whole plane ride to be able to say those words.

"Heh, You are French?" The student looked at me and smirked in a certain way which made me nervous. I nodded, and he stood up. "Nice to meet you; my name is Arthur, and I am a psychology major." He said in French, making my eyes widen. I started to smile, but he looked annoyed. "Calm down; no need to get happy," he spoke back in English, lifting his brow. "Do you not speak English? But you understand?" He asked once more, making me nod. "It is a pleasure to meet you," I struggled to say, making him smile genuinely.

"Let's just talk in French; I do not mind," he said in French sitting down on his bed and opening his book. "Thank you" I answered taking my things to the bed. I needed to unpack and get ready for when class started Monday morning. I looked over to that Arthur guy, and he was just sitting quietly on his bed reading a book. Well, at least he is not loud and noisy. "What is it?" He asked making me jump from being startled. "Nothing, Nothing," I said nervously, turning around quickly.

"I get it; you are nervous to be around me" he slammed his book shut, and he stood up. "Wait! Where are you going?" I asked confused, and he turned to look at me with a still face. "To the library, since you are uncomfortable. Is it because I am quiet?" He asked with an unamused face. "No! I just was thinking..... maybe, we could be friends," I said nervously, but he kept looking at me like he did not believe me.

I was finally getting a good look at his face as he stared at me. He had some killer eyebrows and messy blonde hair. He dressed like an old man and had smooth skin with emerald green eyes. He was actually really cute. "Fine then, I suppose we can be friends since we will be roommates till the end of college," He crossed his arms and sat down on his bed, placing his book to the side.

"Pronounce my name in English" Arthur looked at me and smirked a grin. As if waiting to make fun of the way I will pronounce it. "Arthur...." my accent destroyed his name. I looked at him, embarrassed, as he smiled. "Like this. Ar-th-ur" he sounded out for me, and I nodded doing it back to him. "Ar-th-ur" I said slowly, and he smiled. "There you go," he chuckled, picking up his book, and opening it to read more.

He is actually nice, in his own way. I turned back to my luggage and started to fix up my setup. Arthur stayed quiet the whole time, reading his book. Only getting up to get some water and crackers. "What are you reading?" I asked. "A tale of two cities, by Charles Dickens" he looked up to me smiling. "Do you know why it is so famous?" He smiled at me, closing the book.

"It was the best of times; it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of light, it was the season of darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair." I recited making him stop suddenly, looking at me in awe. "How did you? By memory?" He said, shocked, eyes widened. "I read some books here and there; Charles dickens has some very interesting things" I smiled, looking at him.

I stepped away from my side of the room, proud of finishing it up. "I have never met anyone who suddenly recited such a thing by memory," he started to laugh as he lay back against his bed. "You definitely are an interesting one," he laughed, closing his eyes. He was very interesting as well. "Arthur, you seem like you drown yourself in fiction, is there something you dream of?" I asked, sitting on my bed to stare at him. "Heh, you figured me out. I dream of jumping off a bridge," he laughed, looking at me.

"Really?" I asked worriedly. "No, I am only joking." He sat up, looking at me. His eyes were still and cold. I feel that maybe, he is done with a lot of people's shit. That is probably where all the sarcasm comes from. "Francis, tell me. What was it like in France, were people as rude as they say?" He lifted a brow and looked at me in a mocking way.

"No! Absolutely not." I defended, but his face looked as if he had lost interest. "Listen, you seem like you might be too soft for this world; I suggest you get it together now," he glared at me. What is his deal? "And you seem like the type to not trust people; what happened? Did your mama not love you enough?" I laughed at him, annoyed. He sat up quickly and started to shake from anger.

"I would not be talking if I were you. You look as if you are your own mother." He crossed his arms. "You suck at slinging insults, I see," I laughed, making him glare more at me. "What would a frog like you know about throwing insults?" He said, angry, turning away. How is that for being a soft, British bastard? And he had the nerve to say people are rude in France. Whatever.

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