Oh shit, oh shit. I'm late thought Matthew as he rushed out the door of his and Alfred's flat. Al must be rubbing off on me. Running down the stairs he left the apartment, his messenger bag bouncing against his side with each step. Reaching the street corner he hurriedly looked both ways before beginning to cross the street.
Since had left his condo a little earlier than usual, Francis decided to take some time to go around town and see if there was any place he wanted to stop by, and before he knew it, he had gone quite further than he had intended.
Not to mention it was almost eleven, the time he was supposed to be in at work. Shit.
He made an illegal U-turn in the middle of the streeth, thankful that there were no incoming cars (or cops, for that matter) and hit the acceleration, speeding up. He didn't see the person stepping out onto the street it until it was almost too late.
Francis swore and hit the brake, swerving into the middle of the street to try and avoid hitting him, but the Frenchman wasn't too sure if he had completely avoided hitting the pedestrian.
"AH!" Matthew let out a girly manly shout of surprise as a car hit him making him turn and fall on his back flat on the pavement. He saw stars as his head hit black top.
"Ugh.." he moaned in pain as he lay there. The back of his head aching and his ankle hurt like a... Well, it hurt a lot.
Francis looked up. Aw shit, he didn't see the person anywhere.
He stumbled out of his car, eyes sweeping over the asphalt for the person. Ah, there he was, near the front of the vehicle! Thankfully not under it, but the young man certainly seemed dazed, and it looked like his ankle had been twisted.
He rushed over and knelt down, gently shaking the stranger. "Oi! Oi! Êtes-vous bien?"
aww, how did you know what i was going to do? :3mounties_rockAugust 1 2009, 05:40:11 UTC
As the car he was in pulled into the parking lot, Matthew was a bit thrown. Weren't they going to the hospital. Matthew had definitely missed something. The man picked him up again and they headed for the elevator.
"Um.. ex-excuse me," started Matthew, but as soon as the elevator started to move Matthew felt his stomach roll. He tried to fight it back, but his stomach would not be quelled. With a loud 'blegh' Matthew threw up all over his shirt and the stranger, though in comparison the stranger was hardly puked on at all.
"Oh man, I'm so sorry." Matthew said, his voice quivering along with his stomach muscles at just having forced his breakfast back up.
Awwww, that was one of my favorite shirts! D8french_gourmetAugust 1 2009, 13:43:49 UTC
Francis sighed, looking down in dismay at his shirt. It wasn't a lot, but it was rather nasty. He could see Frosted Flakes sticking out against what milk clung to his shirt. The sight made him want to throw up as well, but he held the contents of his stomach.
"No, no, it's fine." Francis stepped out of the elevator and towards the door. "I won't hold it against you." Still...He'd have to wash this shirt as soon as possible, and rinse of quickly.
He unlocked his door and swung it open, striding over to the couch and setting the stranger down on the couch. "Stay here while I go fetch some bandages and disinfectant." Like the man was going to go anywhere, but you never know what might happen...
it could have been your car :)mounties_rockAugust 1 2009, 19:58:02 UTC
As Matt sat on the couch his head finally started to clear. The dizziness faded along with the headache leaving the cut in his scalp the only pain in his head. Feeling much less dazed Matt was finally able to focus on his surroundings, and more importantly his situation. The pain he felt in his ankle was more noticeable than before, and therefore, more painful. Then, of course, there was the stagnant vomit resting down the front of his shirt. He also realized that he was in a complete strangers apartment. Wow, what a great problem Matt had gotten himself into
( ... )
I think I'd rather have it on my car than on me. =/ Ewwww....french_gourmetAugust 1 2009, 20:06:39 UTC
Francis quickly rushed back with supplies in hand when he heard the yelp. Seing the stranger still lying in the couch and clutching his ankle, he figured that the teen had tried to walk.
He sighed and approached him. "Calm down, I'm not going to hurt you." He kneeled beside the couchm setting his stuff down. "Here, turn your head so I can get a better look at that cut." He instructed, ignoring the stranger's nervousness.
OOC; Yeah, I mean to do it lst time, but forgot. ^^' sorry.mounties_rockAugust 1 2009, 21:49:07 UTC
"Oh, well, please make whatever you prefer, but I do like french food." said Matt, not wanting to be a bother. Plus he honestly couldn't think of what he wanted to eat at the moment. Since Francis worked at a fancy french restaurant, he was sure anything he made would taste good anyway.
Grabbing the remote Matt contemplated turning the TV on, but... ugh daytime television. He decided he'd try and make some conversation instead.
"So," Matt said trying to think up a topic, "did you guy to a cooking school then?" he asked. The fact that this man was a chef was practically the only information he had, he figured it was just as good a place to start as any.
"That's right." There was the sound of packages being opened and other cooking related sounds. "I attended here at the Liberty University. I'm saving up for my master's degree right now, actually. Do you attend the university as well?"
"Oh, yes actually." Matt responded a bit surprised the man hadn't attended a french cooking school. Really though, his knowledge of cooking schools was, limited, to say the least.
"I was actually on my way to class when, you, er, hit me." he finished.
There was laughter in the kitchen, but it sounded a tad nervous. "Ah, yes."
Francis quickly changed the topic. "You aren't allergic to anything, are you? I don't want to try and accidently poison you." He'd already done enough damage as it was, and he had put off the ambulance, as he certainly did not need the police poking around in his business.
"Yes," he said, a soft smile gracing his lips. "she's a bit, well, she's rather outgoing, actually, but she was always very kind and protective of others. She basically raised me by herself, which most have been hard, but she never complained." he sighed. It had been a year since he'd seen her now. He missed her quite a bit sometimes.
"I see, that's good." Francis reentered the the living room, carryng a plate full of Dill Potato salad and set it on a pull up table, scooting it up to Matthew. "Here, this should be okay. I hope it's to your tastes." He backed off. "I have a variety of drinks in my fridge. Milk, water, orange juice, and Dr. Pepper. Would you like any?"
"Dr. Pepper please." he said. Mmm, potato salad, he though as he looked at the dish in front of him. As the smell of the freshly prepared dish washed over him he realized he really was a hungry. He grabbed his fork ready to eat, but, "Are you going to eat any?" he asked.
"My plate is in the kitchen." Francis gave an airy wave, back turned as he went to fetch the soda. "It's fine. So may I ask what you're studying for in Liberty University?"
"No, I'm completely full." said Matt smiling. Shoveling the last bite into his mouth, he followed that statement with a "Thanks" at the offer of a ride home. He pushed the pull table away and went to gather he stuff when he realized something.
"My, my bacpack!" he said, looking around frantically. Where was it? "Is it in you car?"
...Now that he thought about it, there had been textbooks scattered about.
Oh shit.
He had been so worried about the boy, he had completely ignored the books!
"Ah..." Francis looked nervous. "I-I apologize. I was so worried about you I didn't grab the books...We can go back and check to see if they're there, and if not, I will buy you a brand new set." He couldn't do much about homework though...
"Oh no. That's okay." he said, he hated for Francis to feel bad, especially after helping to patch him up and cooking him lunch, but still he was rather worried. Nothing in the backpack really had any value, except his sketchbook. Sure the textbook was expensive, and he'd have to copy all his notes again, and get a new copy of the syllabus, oh, and a new backpack and pens, oh and his calculator was in there too..... But anyway, the only thing he really valued was his sketchbook. He hoped he could recover it. Maybe it was still at the intersection. Maybe?
"Would you mind if we left now to see if any of the stuff is there?"
"Now? Of course, let me rinse this off real quick." Francis picked up teh bowl and took it to the kitchen, rinsing off the remains of the salad. He came back moments later, with his keys. "It might be easier for me to carry you to my car. Would you mind if I did that?"
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Not to mention it was almost eleven, the time he was supposed to be in at work. Shit.
He made an illegal U-turn in the middle of the streeth, thankful that there were no incoming cars (or cops, for that matter) and hit the acceleration, speeding up. He didn't see the person stepping out onto the street it until it was almost too late.
Francis swore and hit the brake, swerving into the middle of the street to try and avoid hitting him, but the Frenchman wasn't too sure if he had completely avoided hitting the pedestrian.
Reply
"Ugh.." he moaned in pain as he lay there. The back of his head aching and his ankle hurt like a... Well, it hurt a lot.
Reply
He stumbled out of his car, eyes sweeping over the asphalt for the person. Ah, there he was, near the front of the vehicle! Thankfully not under it, but the young man certainly seemed dazed, and it looked like his ankle had been twisted.
He rushed over and knelt down, gently shaking the stranger. "Oi! Oi! Êtes-vous bien?"
(OOC; Êtes-vous bien? = Are you okay?)
Reply
"Um.. ex-excuse me," started Matthew, but as soon as the elevator started to move Matthew felt his stomach roll. He tried to fight it back, but his stomach would not be quelled. With a loud 'blegh' Matthew threw up all over his shirt and the stranger, though in comparison the stranger was hardly puked on at all.
"Oh man, I'm so sorry." Matthew said, his voice quivering along with his stomach muscles at just having forced his breakfast back up.
Reply
"No, no, it's fine." Francis stepped out of the elevator and towards the door. "I won't hold it against you." Still...He'd have to wash this shirt as soon as possible, and rinse of quickly.
He unlocked his door and swung it open, striding over to the couch and setting the stranger down on the couch. "Stay here while I go fetch some bandages and disinfectant." Like the man was going to go anywhere, but you never know what might happen...
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He sighed and approached him. "Calm down, I'm not going to hurt you." He kneeled beside the couchm setting his stuff down. "Here, turn your head so I can get a better look at that cut." He instructed, ignoring the stranger's nervousness.
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Grabbing the remote Matt contemplated turning the TV on, but... ugh daytime television. He decided he'd try and make some conversation instead.
"So," Matt said trying to think up a topic, "did you guy to a cooking school then?" he asked. The fact that this man was a chef was practically the only information he had, he figured it was just as good a place to start as any.
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"I was actually on my way to class when, you, er, hit me." he finished.
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Francis quickly changed the topic. "You aren't allergic to anything, are you? I don't want to try and accidently poison you." He'd already done enough damage as it was, and he had put off the ambulance, as he certainly did not need the police poking around in his business.
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"My, my bacpack!" he said, looking around frantically. Where was it? "Is it in you car?"
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...Now that he thought about it, there had been textbooks scattered about.
Oh shit.
He had been so worried about the boy, he had completely ignored the books!
"Ah..." Francis looked nervous. "I-I apologize. I was so worried about you I didn't grab the books...We can go back and check to see if they're there, and if not, I will buy you a brand new set." He couldn't do much about homework though...
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"Would you mind if we left now to see if any of the stuff is there?"
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