the boy with the white eyes [muke af]

ravi de vous rencontrer

ravi de vous rencontrer

"I'm begging you, Clémence," Michael got on his knees in front of his daughter, holding her shoulders, "please, please, please be good tonight. I really need you to be on your best behavior."

"Dad," she whined, "I'm always on my best behavior."

Michael rolled her eyes on her contradicting statement, "no mentions of the music I let you listen to, no mention of me accidentally breaking your nose. If you wouldn't tell Mom about it, don't tell the Hemmings' about it, alright?"

"Okay!" She fixed her romper, a white design with black cartoon cats along it. "Tie my shoe."

"Is that how we ask?"

"Daddy, tie my shoe now." Clémence smiled, holding out her foot. He reached down, tying her matching black Converse high tops. Mike loved his daughter with such a passion. "Do you think Lukey's mom will braid my hair?" She asked as Michael stood up, grabbing her hand.

"I already braided your hair!"

"You suck at braiding hair."

"C, that's another word we're not going to say at dinner, okay?" He chuckled, hoping this would all go well. The duo walked into the Hemming's choice of restaurant of California Pizza Kitchen, he fell in love with this family just as much as he fell in love with Luke. Is there any other family that would chose a pizza palace for a proper dinner? He doesn't think so.

It was the first of February, and even the short walk from the car to the entrance froze little Clémence, she hugged onto her father's side as he spotted the table filled with five blondes. Michael looked at a distance, he could see Liz and Andrew, both looking rather nice for a pizza place. Liz and the boy next to her, most likely the eldest Hemmings brother, were in a conversation, both laughing. Next to Mr. Hemmings was another older brother of Luke's, shortly followed by Luke, and two empty seats.

He told the hostess he was with their reservation, then before he knew it, he was being led to their table.
The family of five looked pleased to see the older lad and daughter. He was introduced, shaking everyone's hand, and then a quick kiss on the cheek to Luke, as usual. Michael took his seat next to the twenty-one year old, Clémence climbing into the seat between her father and Jack, one of the Hemming trio brothers.

"Sorry we're late," Mike spoke once they were sat down, "I was forced to Google braiding hair."

"He didn't do a very good job," the five year old pouted, causing the table to break out into smiles. Clémence always welcomed the attention brought to her, she was outgoing and she knew it.

Music was playing overhead, a static sound of conversations was flowing in and out of Luke's ears. He could hear Michael's voice in snippets of conversations. First with Jack, then Ms. Hemmings, then his daughter. He was all over the place, adding to conversations, answering questions, cutting Clémence's pizza for her.

Luke took a bite of his pizza, sauce falling from the corners of his mouth. Before he knew it, Michael had a napkin to Luke's face, "I'm sorry, I was already helping Clémence not eat like a barbarian, might as well help you, too."

Luke's cheeks reddened a vermillion shade, embarrassed by his boyfriend treating him like a toddler. The rest of the table found it endearing though, because for once, they didn't have to take care of the lanky blonde.

"So, Clémence," the small girl's name rang off of Liz's light pink lips, "what grade are you in?"

"I'm in Kindergarten. My teacher says I'm punk rock."

Luke let out a laugh.

"What did I say about telling people that?" Michael asked his daughter, rhetorically.

"You didn't say anything about punk rock. You said not to bring up Green Day or the swear jar," the girl recited, looking up at her father, annoyed.

The rest of the matching blonde family let out bellowing laughters, loving the way the duo reacted with each other. It was Michael's turn to blush, he rested an arm around her chair, a small smile on his lips.

"She is a work of art," Andrew said, "Luke was like her growing up, don't worry, Michael."

The bleached blonde boy was still utterly embarrassed as his daughter went on about her music taste with Jack and Liz. He rested his head in his hands, looking over at Luke's father, "she's a handful. Luke's good with her though. Looks after her when I can't."

Luke rested his hand on the table, pushing his plate slightly away, "I treat her as if she was my own."

Michael entwined their pinkies together, smiling at his boyfriend. The table engulfed in more overwhelming conversations, mostly involving Clémence. Liz always wanted a daughter (she loved her three sons with all she's got, but a daughter is something special) and having this little girl asking for Liz to braid her hair is her dream come true.

Mike was too focused on a conversation with Luke and Ben, he didn't catch his daughter sliding out of her chair to go stand in front of Liz, wanting her blonde locks redone. He spotted her mid-french braid and let out a chuckle.

He updated Luke on the scene, causing a smile to ride his face. "Mom, let the girl go," Luke spoke.

"No, I'm taking her back to Florida with me."

"I've never been to Florida," Clémence sighed.

"See? Now I have to!"

It was two minutes before nine when they finished their meal. Rosie was outside, waiting to pick up her daughter. Michael excused himself, Clémence saying her farewells (and giving Liz an extra huge hug), before heading outside.

"Pizza dinner, huh?" Was the first thing out of his small ex's mouth.

"Perfect family for me," he shot back.

Rosie took Clémence's hand, her small backpack already taken from Mike's car and into Rosie's. "I'll see you Sunday."

It was always hard to say goodbye to Clémence for Michael, even if he was going to see her in two days. It still pulls the strings of his heart.

Luke was still sat at their table, listening to the quietness of the restaurant now. Almost everyone has left besides the Hemmings and a few others. "I like him," Jack spoke, "I came one thousand miles for this, and I'm glad I did."

"Me too," Liz awed, "I'm infatuated with that daughter of his. I swear, I was ready to take her home."

"Did you see the way Michael looked at our little Luke?" Ben teased, "it was beautiful."

Ben was right, and Luke wish he could see the way Mike looked at him. He didn't know the way Michael's green eyes sparkled when Luke opened his mouth. Michael's full attention was constantly on Luke in a from of lust and devotion.

"Sorry 'bout that," Michael said a few minutes later, his lips were purple from standing outside, "I've gotta give Clémence back every weekend." Everything he said was in a teasing tone, but underneath his heart was slowly breaking. It was hard to simply give her away like that.

"No worries!" Ms. Hemmings smiled at the older lad.

"I can take Luke home if you guys want to head to your hotel, I don't mind at all." Michael helped Luke up from his chair, wrapping their hands together tightly. Luke leaned his body weight closer to Michael, trusting him not to run them into a wall.

"That would be lovely."

Their goodbyes were filled with sorrow to their Luke, they wouldn't see him again until graduating in May. His mother could have started crying at the thought of her last baby graduating college. When did they get so old?