Francis and I were currently sitting outside the room ______ was being kept in. A doctor had come in and explained her condition to us. ______ had suffered critical damage to her brain, that, at he very least, would cause loss of bodily functions and possibly memories. That was if she could survive her coma.



Right after he said this, a loud beeping rang out from one of the machines and the nurse had shooed us out. And now all we could do was wait.



We sat in silence, neither one of us sure what to say to the other. It had been months since we had last spoken, and the last thing we had done was fight. It had become so heated, that had ______ not been there to calm us down, we eventually would have strangled each other.



I couldn't help but smile at the memory. ______ had smacked some sense into both the Frenchman and myself that night.



Literally.



She and Francis had come over to my house for a movie night, like we had when we were kids. At first everything seemed fine, but when ______ had gotten up to fetch us some more popcorn, things had turned sour.



"So, 'ave you made your move yet?"



I looked at him, confused. "Made my move? What on earth are you talking about?"



He snickered. "You know what I mean, mon ami. 'ave you told our petite friend zat you are in love with 'er yet?"



I felt my ears go red and my mouth get dry. "In l-l-love?" I couldn't even say the word. "I'm not in.... I mean, I don't feel that way about anyone! And besides, what in bloody hell would you know about love? You go around trying to persuade anything that moves to get in bed with you!"



"Ohonhonhonhon~ But zat is where you are wrong! I come from the city of love! Ze country of passion! And as a person with a 'eritage such as moi, It iz my job to ensure zat you and ______ end up togezzer!"



"That's not what I want you wanker! You know she just got out of a horrible relationship, and she isn't about to... I mean she...." I trailed off, unable to find the proper words.



"Well if zat is 'ow you feel about it, zen maybe she'd be better off avec moi?" He raised his eyebrows in a suggestive manner, his eyes filled with lust. "______ and I, you can just imagine what a beau couple we would make. Ze two of us, making heated, passionate lo-"



I tackled him to the ground, cutting him off midsentence. "YOU BLOODY GIT! HOW DARE YOU TALK ABOUT HER LIKE THAT! HOW WOULD YOU FEEL IF I SAID THINGS LIKE THAT ABOUT MICHELLE?"



His face lit up in rage, and he flung me off his chest in anger. "DON'T EVEN ZINK ABOUT IT! VOUS FOUTU BATARD!"



We were standing in the middle of the room, glaring each other down. My hands were around his throat. Francis held my collar, one of his fists pulled back, ready to strike my face.



SLAP.



.



.



.



.



"BLOODY HELL!" "WHAT ZE HELL?"



We both lowered our arms and turned to look at the girl.



"I don't know what in God's name the two of you were fighting about this time, but this constant arguing, it has got to stop. NOW."



We both cowered like puppies being scolded at for peeing on the floor. Even though we both had at least a foot on her in height, she seem to tower over us.



















Right now, I'd give anything to hear her yelling at us.