Pride - Tears
Feb. 1st, 2006 10:08 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dolevalanFandom: Gankutsuou
Characters/Pairing: Albert de Morcerf/Franz d'Epinay
Prompt: 7. Pride
Word Count: 668
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Characters, situation, and parts of the dialogue are not mine.
Author's Notes: Very mild spoilers for episode 2. Poor kids.
Boys didn’t cry.
His father had been firm on this point. Tears were for women, for those too weak to do anything about their pain. Tears were not for his son.
He would have swallowed them, if he could. His father would have wanted him to. So he did the next best thing; he ran and hid, as soon as the priest had finished. His mother let him go, though she had to have seen him slip away. He ran until he found the backdoor of the chapel and collapsed on the stoop, panting. The pants threatened to turn into sobs, and he buried his head in his arms. His fault. All his fault. And now he couldn’t even keep himself from crying. His jaw clenched, against the gasping breaths. He wouldn’t give up so easily.
Franz was concentrating so hard on not crying that the first nut didn’t even register, fully. For a moment, he was just confused, wiping his eyes with his hands as he looked over for the source of the disturbance. The blue-eyed boy he had noticed, standing so solemnly across from him at the graveside, was now grinning, tossing another nut into the air and catching it. Franz paled a little. Crying was bad enough, but to be caught crying… He took a deep, gulping breath, trying to make himself look as normal as possible.
“Stop crying,” the boy said cheerfully.
Darn it. He hid his face with his hand again. There was no denying his tears, despite his offhanded “I’m not crying,” but he didn’t have to look at this boy while he shed them. He’d probably go back and tell everyone. Little Franz is crying like a girl behind the church. Killed his father, now he’s sorry.
He could almost hear his father’s voice in response. Where’s your manhood, Franz? Your aristocracy? Your pride? Franz tensed as he made a renewed effort to swallow his tears.
Another nut hit his shoulder and his head jerked up, frustration twisting his boyish features. Unabashed, the brown-haired boy continued, coming forward. “I’ll play with you.”
“SHUT UP! GO AWAY!” Franz shouted, trying to get back to his solitude. He’d been doing much better at not crying before this boy showed up. And couldn’t the idiot see he was in no mood to play? Joy at a funeral was almost as bad as tears, after all.
The anger helped, actually. As Franz buried his head in his arms, he realized he was, in fact, not crying anymore. Which is why it took him a moment to register the sound of sobbing…sobbing that wasn’t his. He looked up.
The boy was crying, freely, one arm covering his eyes as he took gasping breaths. Franz was shocked. This little and he was crying. He was an aristocrat too…wasn’t he supposed to be just as dignified?
Immediately, Franz felt sorry at having caused the other boy tears, the source of his own grief temporarily forgotten. He stood, and after a moment of hesitation, put his hand on the other boy’s shoulder.
“It’s okay. I’m sorry.” A pause, the other boy still crying. “I’ll play with you, if you want.”
“Really?” He sniffed, wiping his nose with his sleeve.
Franz smiled and nodded. “Yeah. We can play.” Comforting the other boy gave him something to do. And it made him feel strangely pleased…warmed almost…to see that he was helping to stop the other’s tears. It was so much easier than stopping his own had been.
After a moment, the blue-eyed boy smiled. “Okay. What should we play? …hide and seek?”
Franz shook his head. “No…no, I think we should play something where we stick together.”
The other boy nodded. After a moment of thought, he offered, “I’m Albert.”
“Franz.” The two boys smiled, their dried tears mirroring one another now. “Hey, let’s go into the gardens. There a pool there where you can always find big, fat toads.” Albert nodded, and the two raced off into the sun-filled afternoon.
Characters/Pairing: Albert de Morcerf/Franz d'Epinay
Prompt: 7. Pride
Word Count: 668
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Characters, situation, and parts of the dialogue are not mine.
Author's Notes: Very mild spoilers for episode 2. Poor kids.
Boys didn’t cry.
His father had been firm on this point. Tears were for women, for those too weak to do anything about their pain. Tears were not for his son.
He would have swallowed them, if he could. His father would have wanted him to. So he did the next best thing; he ran and hid, as soon as the priest had finished. His mother let him go, though she had to have seen him slip away. He ran until he found the backdoor of the chapel and collapsed on the stoop, panting. The pants threatened to turn into sobs, and he buried his head in his arms. His fault. All his fault. And now he couldn’t even keep himself from crying. His jaw clenched, against the gasping breaths. He wouldn’t give up so easily.
Franz was concentrating so hard on not crying that the first nut didn’t even register, fully. For a moment, he was just confused, wiping his eyes with his hands as he looked over for the source of the disturbance. The blue-eyed boy he had noticed, standing so solemnly across from him at the graveside, was now grinning, tossing another nut into the air and catching it. Franz paled a little. Crying was bad enough, but to be caught crying… He took a deep, gulping breath, trying to make himself look as normal as possible.
“Stop crying,” the boy said cheerfully.
Darn it. He hid his face with his hand again. There was no denying his tears, despite his offhanded “I’m not crying,” but he didn’t have to look at this boy while he shed them. He’d probably go back and tell everyone. Little Franz is crying like a girl behind the church. Killed his father, now he’s sorry.
He could almost hear his father’s voice in response. Where’s your manhood, Franz? Your aristocracy? Your pride? Franz tensed as he made a renewed effort to swallow his tears.
Another nut hit his shoulder and his head jerked up, frustration twisting his boyish features. Unabashed, the brown-haired boy continued, coming forward. “I’ll play with you.”
“SHUT UP! GO AWAY!” Franz shouted, trying to get back to his solitude. He’d been doing much better at not crying before this boy showed up. And couldn’t the idiot see he was in no mood to play? Joy at a funeral was almost as bad as tears, after all.
The anger helped, actually. As Franz buried his head in his arms, he realized he was, in fact, not crying anymore. Which is why it took him a moment to register the sound of sobbing…sobbing that wasn’t his. He looked up.
The boy was crying, freely, one arm covering his eyes as he took gasping breaths. Franz was shocked. This little and he was crying. He was an aristocrat too…wasn’t he supposed to be just as dignified?
Immediately, Franz felt sorry at having caused the other boy tears, the source of his own grief temporarily forgotten. He stood, and after a moment of hesitation, put his hand on the other boy’s shoulder.
“It’s okay. I’m sorry.” A pause, the other boy still crying. “I’ll play with you, if you want.”
“Really?” He sniffed, wiping his nose with his sleeve.
Franz smiled and nodded. “Yeah. We can play.” Comforting the other boy gave him something to do. And it made him feel strangely pleased…warmed almost…to see that he was helping to stop the other’s tears. It was so much easier than stopping his own had been.
After a moment, the blue-eyed boy smiled. “Okay. What should we play? …hide and seek?”
Franz shook his head. “No…no, I think we should play something where we stick together.”
The other boy nodded. After a moment of thought, he offered, “I’m Albert.”
“Franz.” The two boys smiled, their dried tears mirroring one another now. “Hey, let’s go into the gardens. There a pool there where you can always find big, fat toads.” Albert nodded, and the two raced off into the sun-filled afternoon.
