Francis's ending

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Waking up had always been a pain in the ass for you. It always took at least ten minutes just for you to sit up.

Not this morning.

The overwelming scent of roses had shocked your sences awake. It wasn't your favorite smell. Quite the opposite, The smell always gave you headaches.

Opening your eyes, you nearly went into cardiac arrest at the sight infront of you.
White rose petals were strewn across the floor, Except for a heart shaped mound of red roses in the very middle.

Jesus Christ, You were going to kill whoever had the audacity to do this.

Urgh. The smell was getting to you. Swinging your legs over the edge of your bed, you stood up. And promplty stumbled. The white petals were ankel deep.

Great.

You could guess who did this.

Francis, probably to lazy to cart them to his room. Sighing you wadded through the flowers, trying to get to your door.

A piece of paper scraped your leg.

Picking it up, you frowned as you read it.

Roses are red,

Violets are blue,

Those little shorts,

Look so cute on you.


Blushing you glared down at the loopy cursive hand writting. You were indeed wearing a short pair of black shorts. The creep had probably come in your room while you were fast asleep.

Stomping into the hallway, you looked around. The house appeared to be empty.
That was strange, usually your three roommatess were always around doing something crazy.
You shrugged the thought off. It would be nice to have some time to yourself.

On the bathroom mirror you found another note.

Roses are red,

Violets are blue,

I would defintely screw you.

Turning blood red you ripped up the note and tossed it into the waste can.

Making your way to the kitchen finding two more notes, each one more sexually explicit than the last.

What a Jackass.

Opening the fridge you scooped up and apple. Turning around you noticed a peice of paper on the floor that hadn't been there before.

It was another poem. You didn't even bother reading it before crumpling it up and tossing it.

"I'VE GOTTA POEM FOR YOU FRANCIS." You yelled. He had to be hiding somewhere in the house. That would explain the poems.

"Roses are red.
Violets are blue.
I have 5 fingers and the middle one is for you" You barked out, hands on hips.

The Frenchman stepped around the corner. "_____  'ow can you say zat? I am 'urt."

Snorting you rolled your eyes, "Really? Anyway your not the one cleaning those frickin' roses out of my room." Biting into the appel you sat on the counter.

He smiled and raised an eyebrow suggestively, "Zat can be arranged......for a price."

"No thanks." You mummbled around an apple bit' "And could you stop leaving those notes?"

"Fine." He smirked, "I'll just follow you around and sing zem to you." Clearing his throat he recited

"Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
Sugar is sweet,
And so are you." His grin could light up a christmas tree.

Geez. Out of all your room-mates, Francis was the only one you felt different about. But you weren't sure what kind of feelings these were.

Glaring at him, you licked your lips,

"The roses are dead,
the violets too,
The sugar is rotten
Just like you." Smirking, you tossed the apple core.

He growled, "Challenge accepted. mon cheri."

Francis dragged a chair over and sat across from you.

"Roses are Red,
ze grass is green
I want you in my bed
If you know what I mean." His lips curled upwards in patronizing smirk as he watched your face go bright red.

You grit your teeth. You hadn't read all those old fashion poetry books in high school for nothing.

"Roses are red
Violets are blue
I thought my face was bad,
Untill I met you." He actually flinched.

The creep.
You watched as he scowled, no doubt trying to think up a sutable response.
His eyes light up an an evil look settled in his eyes.

"Roses are red
The violets turned black,
Why is your rack as flat as my back." You arms came up and locked across your chest. You knew you were rather small, but still.

You opened your mouth to spit a nasty comment out when Francis interupted you.

"Roses are red
violets are blue
my lips can't wait to be kissing you." He was now standing infront of you, trapping you on the counter.

Leaning back you frowned at him

"Roses are red
Violets are blue
Touch me
and I'll murder you."

He smiled and leaned in, placing his lips next to your ear.

"Roses are red
Violets are blue
I really do love you."

Your face could have been used as a stop sign.

"S-stop messing with me." You tried pushing his face away. He leaned even closer and nuzzled your (Hair-colored) locks.

"I'm not joking, mon cheri. I never lie when it comes to love."

Francis's arms encircled your waist. "Why do you zink I'm ze only one 'ere? I asked ze others to leaves us alone so I could tell you."
His blue eyes searched yours. "And now I want to know if you feel ze same way."

You could feel his breath on your face. He placed his forehead on yours. "Please _____. Je t'aime." Blushing you thought about it. Those feelings, what were they? and why did it feel like a herd of buffalo were running through your stomache?

"Um...Yes? I don't real-" His lips cut of the rest of your words. That was all the answer you needed.

The feelings were love.

-------Antonio's point of veiw------

"Do ve have to stay in ze closet?"

I was crammed in the hallway closet, my face slowly being crushed by Gilberts arm.
"I don't know." I watched through the key hole as Francis and ______ Kissed. It was so cute, she had gone the color of a tomato.

"Vhat are zey doing?" Gilbert shiftted, smushing my face against the door.

"They're kissing." I mummbled as best as I could.

"VAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAS?" Of course he HAD to yell it.

They both looked at the closet, ____ looked confused and Francis slightly panicked.

"Not any more amigo."

"Oops."


The end