The doorbell wouldn't stop ringing.
You pulled your pillow over your head. There was no way you were going to answer it.
The doorbell stopped. For a few minutes it was silent. You let out a little sigh of relief.
Whoever it was started pounding on the door.
Getting up, you grabbed a can of pepper spray. But you knew you wouldn't need it.
You had a pretty good idea who it was. He always came around this time of night.
Opening the front door, you stepped back as a familiar figure stumbled in, wine on his breath.
"What do you want Francis?"
The Frenchman grinned, his cerulean blue eyes slightly glazed over. You raised and eyebrow at his crumpled shirt and the mud staining the hem of his pant legs.
"How drunk are you?" You tapped the pepper spray can against your leg.
Francis just stood there, grinning. He had a bright red mark on his cheek and a scratch near his left eye.
You scowled. "How many bottles did you drink?"
He hiccuped, swaying slightly.
"Seven? You do realize that any normal person would be dead or at least throwing up their brains." Your voice was cold. but inside you were worried.
You were always worried about him.
His smile vanished. Then his lips started to tremble.
Falling to his knees, he started sobbing. You resisted the urge to kick him.
"I'm 'orrible. I'm a monster. I shouldn't be alive!!!"
He was always like this. Always. It was the same thing every month.
Francis would date several girls at once. Then he expected not to be caught. When he was and they all yelled, cried and slapped him, he would go get drunk. And then cry all over your carpet.
Needless to say, you weren't happy. You didn't want to be the one he only went to when he had been kicked to the curb.
"Go home Francis."
He lifted his head, tears streaming down his cheeks.
You felt a little bad, but you couldn't take care of him every time he was like this.
Tears fell onto the collar of his shirt. His eyes were wide with shock.
"NON NON!!!" You flinched slightly as he lunged forward, wrapping his arms around your legs.
"Please....Please don't leave me like ze ozers _______." His face was pressed against your right thigh.
"I'm not. I just don't want to deal with you right now." Your words came out colder then you had wanted them to.
Francis's sobbing intensified, his arms wrapping tighter about you.
He was always like this, a crying drunk. In the morning he wouldn't even remember this. He wouldn't remember his previous girlfriends heartbroken faces or why he had a throbbing headache.
And then he would do it all over again.
"Please! Just let me stay tonight!!!!" His fingers were digging painfully into your legs and your right thigh was wet from his tears.
Who knew a guy could cry so much.
You always did that. Tell him to leave, then let him stay. You loved the stupid Frenchman too much. Not that he'd ever return the feeling.
You weren't sure you wanted him to. Knowing him, you would just end up with a broken heart.
You pushed him off your leg and walked back into your room.
Francis grabbed the edge of your shirt, trailing behind you like a small child. You slapped his hand away. He sniffled.
Great, he'd probably start crying up a storm again.
Your bed was meant for only one person to sleep comfortably in. Not a pissed off female and a sobbing Frenchman.
You lay with your back to him as he cried softy, shaking the bed with his suppressed wails.
"Please don't cry Francis." You glared at the wall. He hiccuped and continued crying, only louder this time.
After a while the sobs grew more and more faint. Finally he stopped all together.
You felt the bed shift. An arm snaked its way around your waist, pulling you closer to Francis. He nuzzled his face into your hair, letting out a small sigh.
"Let go." It came out as a whisper, mainly because you truly didn't mean it. He just tightened his grip, his breath slowing to a soothing pace.
You didn't get any sleep.
Because Francis snored and kicked in his sleep.
You crawled over him and hobbled into the kitchen. No doubt you had several bruises on your legs (The guy kicked like a mule)
You fixed yourself breakfast, not bothering to make anything for Francis. He would just stumble back home, not bothering to thank you.
A low groan drifted out of your bedroom. You watched slightly annoyed as Francis stumbled into your bathroom.
Huh.....He never does that.
You scowled when you heard retching.
Great. You would most likely be the one cleaning that up.
Your annoyance turned to worry when he walked into the kitchen.
Francis's was the color of chalk. His eyes bloodshot and slightly swollen.
"You look like shit." You weren't one for sugarcoating facts. Francis knew this and chose to ignore your statement.
Sipping your coffee, you watched as he fixed himself breakfast.
It annoyed you. He had already stayed past his welcome.
"Why are you still here?"
"I want to ask you somezing." His voice was slightly hoarse, making his accent that much sexier.
"What?" Your tone was clipped.
"What 'appened last night?"
You blinked, although you should have been expecting it. He usually figured out what happened when his roommate, Arthur, screamed insults at him.
"You were dumped by the multiple females you were dating and then you got wasted."
He blinked, clearly it wasn't the answer he wanted.
"Again? I zought it was just one of zose dreams." He looked dejectedly at the floor. You glared, resisting the urge to hug him.
You hated how he always thought that he could depend on you when he was drunk. You hated how he saw you as no more than someone he could get help from when it suited him.
You hated how he made your stomach twist in knots when he wouldn't answer the phone. And how you felt jealous when he was with other women.
But you hated yourself even more for having the hope that some day he would have only have eyes for you.
"Are you feeling ok, _______?" He was leaning across the counter, his face inches from yours.
"Fine." You growled, turning away so he couldn't see you blushing.
Why was he sticking around?
Francis still hadn't left.
Although a part of you was happy with this fact, a much larger part was annoyed. He had been following you around the house for the past three hours.
"GO HOME!!!!!" You wiped around and glared at the Frenchman.
"I can't" His absurdly long eyelashes casting shadows down his cheeks.
"She kicked me out last night."
"So go stay with Arthur! You pay half the rent for that apartment!" You waved your arms wildly.
You watched as his face went red.
" 'E kicked me out too."
You waited as what he said sunk in.
Francis - a home = He wanted to stay with you?
"OH NO! Nuh-uh!" You pointed to the door. "Out, you can't stay. GO!"
His bottom lip trembled.
Geez. -Please don't cry!!! -You silently begged. You couldn't say no when he cried.
"Fine." He gave you a quick hug, "Zanks for everything ______."
Rubbing his eyes, Francis hurried towards the door. You gaped, feeling slightly sick.
He stopped, his back rigid.
Oh Shit! Why did you go and say that?
"You can stay." The words stuck in your throat.
NO NO NO!!! Why did you say that?!
The answer was simple.
You were a lovesick fool.