Talking croissants

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 "Ugh..Il est trop tôt!" (It's too early) Complained Francis as he and Arthur made their way up a hill in the park to look at the sunrise. It had been roughly two years since they had met, and the cold March wind bit through their coats, making the couple shiver. Actually, Arthur was shivering about something else, and was grateful for the cold as an excuse.

"Oh belt up frog we're nearly there." The Englishman snapped, burying his face in his scarf and squeezing the Frenchman's hand. Arthur had dragged a reluctant Francis out for a morning walk, insisting that the now eight year olds Matthew and Alfred would be fine by themselves for a couple hours in the morning. "Look. The sun will rise soon." Arthur pointed out as they reached the top of the hill, gazing out to where the sky was streaked with reds and orange, showing the promise of a new day.

"It iz nozing I 'aven't seen before. Ze sunrise over ze cliffs of Corsica iz très belle, remind me to take you to France sometime." Francis remarked, putting his hands in the pockets of his overcoat and taking a deep breath, slight wind blowing his golden hair away from his face. Arthur took a deep breath to steel himself, it was now or never.

"Look darling a talking croissant!" He exclaimed, frantically pointing in the other direction.

"Quoi?" Francis asked, head whipping around to follow Arthur's hand. "Mon cher zere iz nozing zere, you must be tired..." he shook his head, slowly turning back to his boyfriend. "Oh mon dieu!" Francis gasped, hand flying up to his lips. Arthur was on one knee in the grass before him, taking the hand that remained at the Frenchman's side and clasping it in both of his own.

"Francis." Arthur began, his voice low and laced with the most exquisite accent. "Tu es l'amour de ma vie. Vous me complétez, et j'espère que je ferai la même chose pour vous. Je t'aime. Francis Bonnefoy, mon amour, mon ange... veux-tu m'épouser?" He asked, letting go of Francis's hands to take a small black box out of his pocket and opening it to reveal a rose gold ring with a large diamond set in the center. (You are the love of my life. You complete me, and I hope I do the same for you. I love you. Francis Bonnefoy, my love, my angel... will you marry me?)

Francis began to cry, tears pouring out of his sapphire eyes as he nodded, throwing himself onto Arthur. "Oui! Oui!! A million times yes!" He cried, embracing his fiancé. A few overjoyed tears began to trace their way down Arthur's face as he beamed, slipping the ring onto his love's finger. As soon as the ring was on Francis grabbed Arthur and kissed him, both kneeling in the grass as the sun painted the sky above them, showing their love for the world to see.

The need for air separated them and Francis stood up, carrying the other in his arms. "Je t'aime Arthur." Francis whispered softly, the ends of his bangs just brushing Arthur's face. "You do realize zat when people ask who iz ze girl I'm still going to say you, right?"

Arthur groaned, head resting on Francis's shoulder. "Bloody hell I hoped that you would forget about that. Why do I have to be the girl? You're the one with the long hair!"

"Hon hon hon mon lapin but everybody knows zat I've got ze biggest-"

"FrANcis!" They laughed as they walked home together, hands entwined and rings glinting in the morning light. Unknown to at least one of them, a certain French-Canadian man crouched in the bushes, cigarette dangling from his lips and a large camera around his neck, wiping away tears.

As they approached Francis's house they spotted a dark figure on the porch, a baseball bat slung across his shoulder and a smartphone in his hands. "Hey Art! How'd it go?" Allen asked in his strong New York accent and with a grin, pushing his sunglasses to the top of his red-brown head. "Do I need to beat anyone's face in with a bat?" Arthur laughed and shook his head, holding up his hand while Francis's jaw dropped.

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