Caught Red Handed Part 8

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I woke up to the sound of a slamming door. I sat up in my bed with a wince and listened for voices. I smiled at the French cursing that was followed by a thud. I must have forgotten a bag at the front of the door. I crawled out of the bed and walked down the stairs. I was greeted by Françoise. He was glaring at me with his violet eyes. He seemed more....um....disheveled? Yeah, disheveled. I almost got drunk from the stench of alcohol radiating off of him.

"Who the h*** are you" He slurred out as he rolled onto his back and stared up at me. I had come accustomed to the French man coming back home a drunken mess. It was a once in a blue moon that he would come home with his head on strait.

"(Name)....its (Name) like all the other times you have come home drunk." I mutter. He stumbled back to his feet and pulled out a gun and pointed it at me.

"Are you mouthing me, b****?" He asked. Due to the fact that he has pulled out a real gun on me, once. I switched out a toy gun that I had painted black with the real one. I glanced back down at my watch and started to count.

"Three......Two......one..." I said as I looked back at the French man. He passed out right on the spot. I looked down on his crumbled form on the ground and started to count again.

The door opened to reveal a boosting American with a dripping red bat. A Canadian man was following him with his own dripping red hockey stick. Both men stopped and looked at me then down at the French man on the floor that is out cold.

"Again?" Allen groaned. I smirked and nodded.

"Mind taking him to his room?" I asked with a smile.

"Can't we just leave him? Oliver will trip over him when he comes in." Allen complained. They both grunted as they lifted Françoise's body off the ground.

"God! Does he ever take a bath? He smells like s*** and alcohol!" Matt snarled as him and Allen dragged the French bum up the stairs. I laughed and put my hands on my hips.

"If you want just throw him in the bath tub and turn the shower on. He's far to gone to wake up, and it might actually make the house smell some what nicer." I say as I pick up the forgotten bag of groceries'.

~~~~(Allen's POV)~~~~

We some how got the drunken a** in the bathroom and threw him in the tub. I smelled the mantellic smell of blood. It was strong. We had blood all over us, but it wasn't as fresh as this smell. I looked over in the waste basket and about flipped. I came charging down the stairs into the kitchen, were (Name) was.

"Why is there bloody tissues in the bathroom trash can?!" I snapped at her. I saw the color drain from her face as she finally processed my words.

"That?.....Well..." She trailed off and rubbed the back of her neck.

~~~~(Readers POV)~~~~

I felt the sweat drip down the back of my neck. I had two options, tell the truth and be confined in the house until I get home. The other option was to do something completely embarrassing.

"You found m-my tissues?" I stutter.

"Yeah! Cough it up! What happened?" Allen commanded. I took in a deep breath and willed myself to blush.

"Those...are...um.." I couldn't spit it out.

"You jacka**!! Use your brain!" Matt yelled as he showed up behind Allen.

"What are you talking about?" Allen snapped at Matt.

"Allen, do you know what a period is?" I asked as the red of my cheeks only grew brighter. Allen frowned and looked at me dumbfounded. He then turned deep red and covered his face with his hand. Matt wacked the side of Alles head calling him a "dumb***".

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