Petit Lapin

Chapter 16

While Arthur and Matthew were at work and school, the week Francis spent alone with Alfred had been... interesting to say the least.

"Alfred, please don't come into the kitchen! I'm almost done making lunch. Just a few more minutes." Francis called as he noticed the American child trying to sneak in for the third time.

"Okayyyy." Alfred whined.

Francis was concerned Alfred had inherited Arthur's genes of terrible cooking, so he promised himself that both Anglophones would not enter the kitchen to cook while they were here. Like Francis said, a few minutes later, lunch was ready. He and Alfred sat at the dining table as he watched the six year old boy inhale the plate of food he had given him. Francis was not even halfway done when Alfred had asked for seconds, which the Frenchman provided. Once Alfred was finished the second plate, he slouched in his chair and pat his tummy.

"Ahh that was a good meal." He sighed happily. "You cook a lot better than dad. He always brings home that pre-made Sainsbury stuff. That stuff is good too, but yours is like REALLY good."

Francis smiled at the compliment. "Merci, Alfred."

"Mercy?" Alfred tilted his head in confusion.

"Non, m e r c i. Merci. It means 'thank you' in French."

Alfred made an 'ohhh'' sound. "That's awesome! Can you teach me more?" He asked as he sat up straight and leaned forwards on the table. "I wanna be able to talk to Mattie."

Francis felt his heart swell at hearing Alfred's words. He was glad Matthew and Alfred were getting along. He was also happy that they seemed close enough that Alfred had given Matthew a nickname.

"Of course! I will be the best French teacher you've ever met." Francis replied.

After lunch, Francis had begun to teach Alfred basic French words. Alfred got bored easily, but remained determined since he wanted to learn to communicate with the Canadian without using hand signals.

"Je m'appelle Alfred. J'habite en France avec mon père, Arthur Kirkland." Alfred spoke. Albeit with a terrible American accent.

"Bravo! Très bien, Alfred." Francis praised. While Alfred was not the fastest language learner, he had managed to say that one sentence after a few hours of French lessons with Francis.

"Woaahhh I can speak this Frenchy language now! I can't wait to tell Mattie!" Alfred exclaimed happily, jumping up and down.

Francis chuckled. "Alright, Alfred. We have to go pick up Matthew from school in half an hour, so you can show him your new language skills then."

"WOOHOO!" Was the reply Francis got from the energetic American boy.

Twenty minutes later, Francis had begun to get ready to leave the house and pick up Matthew. After putting on some decent clothes, Francis went to Alfred's room to help him change out of his pyjamas and into some other clothes, as he usually did with Matthew. When Francis got to the boy's bedroom door, it was locked.

The Frenchman decided to knock on his door. "Alfred? Are you alright in there? Do you need help getting changed?"

The door then swung open to reveal Alfred already dressed in a super hero t-shirt, a sweater and some trousers. "Why would I need help?" He asked before walking downstairs to put on his shoes. Francis shook his head at his own stupidity. This boy was Arthur Kirkland's son. Of course he would want to do everything himself.