François Dauphiné was waiting at the airport with his family. It was a small family, but one he chose.

"Be safe, my sweetheart." His grandmother kissed his head. She played with his short red curls. His eyes were hers, the most beautiful shade of blue in the world.

His grandfather lifted him up in the hug, the two of them laughing. "Bring back someone special."

"I will." He knew nobody would ever love him like that.

"You're going to that stupid war in Asia!!" His best friend in the whole world, Bella, ran to embrace him. "Why are your grandparents making you gooooo?"

"Bella, I already told you! They want me to do some heroic shit or something like that before I get my bakery."

"Well, and to make a difference, of course."

He gave his grandpa side eye as she continued. "But I'm going to miss you!!!!"

"I'll miss you too!!! But I'll write you like all the time!"

In truth, he was a little excited. What's more exciting and manly than going out on the battlefield with guns blasting in your ears? He'll have a cool cut, uniform, and who knows. Someone might think that's so hot.

He patted her shoulders before going to Marcel. He worries for Marcel. He's only eleven. He doesn't have friends because he's so damn quiet. He made progress with his therapist, before he used to cry all day. He smiled more, but he was still completely mute. Marcel said he'll take François leaving well, but he knows he's lying. He looked like he was dying of heartbreak.

"Hey, Mar. How are you doing?" François signed as he sat kneed down to meet his face. "Listen, I know you're nervous. But I want you to know that everything will be ok."

The younger hugged him, buried his head into his chest, and began to cry. François' heart breaks when he cries. He used to hear it through his cracked walls when their mother would be shouting or hitting him. It made him feel so useless that he couldn't stop the big tears, but now he could.

He spoke to him, playing with his afro. "I know, I know. This is super hard. But I'll be back! Y'know, those people in Vagu have been fighting for like two years! It'll be over as soon as you know it!" Marcel looked up as he said, "Trust me, Marcel. Everything will be ok. I'll be good, you'll be good, everything will be good."

With shaking hands, he signed I love you. François smiled and kissed his forehead. Grandma patted her chest before going up to him again.

"Your plane is leaving soon." Tears shined in her eyes. "Be safe, okay?"

He picked up his suitcase. "I will."

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Training was rough, but he didn't even have to do hard labor. He was going to be a military doctor, so it was easy. It was quite boring the first few weeks, just healing sick soldiers. He was allowed to fight a few times. That was super fun.

Then, on January 1st, 2017, there was a new year's party. François and a couple of his friends were allowed to go. On the dance floor, after making a joke, was a high-pitched giggle. He looked behind him and saw two soldiers laughing.

"Sorry!" What a beautiful French voice. "That was funny!"

One of his friends, Joanne, convinced him to go over and talk to them, which he did. He saw them more closely. One was tall, had a buzzcut, looked scary, and kinda smelled like piss. The other one, though. Love at first sight.

"Thank God, you're French! I can finally talk my language, y'know?" He was all smiles. His brown eyes were sparkling.

"Of course! You sound different, though."

"Well, I also grew up speaking Korean. That's how I met big guy." The smaller tapped his leg, the Korean smiled.

Just then, someone ran up to the man with the brown hair and started teasing him. François jumped, then watched on in confusion as the stranger spoke Spanish. He knows a few languages; French, English, German, and even sign language in all of those. But Spanish was completely foreign, especially the way he rolled his Rs.

Thankfully, the man he liked spoke in English. "James, this is our new friend-" then in French. "oh, what's your name?"

"Don't worry, I speak English." That made James smile. "My name is François."

"Woo, that sounds like a royal name." He shook his hand. "Name's James."

The Korean one, surprisingly, also spoke French. "My name is Kim."

Before he could ask the last one, one of his other friends pulled him away to dance. François waved goodbye and blushed as the nameless one waved back.

"Woo!!! Someone's in love!!" His friend laughed as they danced.

"Oh hush!"

Throughout the night, the two of them kept stealing glances at each other. François tried miserably not to make it obvious. Those stupid butterflies made it impossible not to think of those brown eyes and black suit. He left before he could see him again, much to his dismay.

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"C'mon, Tubby!" White rushed down the gold stairs to go outside. James was already waiting for them.

Lloyd nearly fell down the last three steps before catching himself, laughing mindlessly as he met them.

"So, what do you think of gingerbread man up there?" He looked up at the window of the room the man was in. He saw his friend cover his grin. "Woo! I didn't know you liked red!"

James, Mulligan's best friend, raised his eyebrow. "Neither did I."

"He's just a guy!" He drank, trying his best to look directly at James. Luckily, he relaxed.

When he wasn't looking, he glanced up to the window and smiled. Kim looked away.

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Two weeks later, there was a patient who had a pretty bad cut on his leg. François was called in to take care of it. When he walked in, he saw the nameless man covering his cheesy grin.

"Bonjour, Monsieur François."

"We meet again." The butterflies came back. "You got hurt?"

"Yeah," he rolled up his pant leg. "doesn't really hurt."

The other saw the dried blood around it. "Yeah, just needs a few stitches." He took his notebook."I can finally learn your name now."

"That's right, I never told you!" François sat on a chair next to him. "Get ready. It's long."

"I'm ready."

"Lloyd John Doh-Sauveterre."

François didn't mean to talk aloud. "Woo." They both stared at each other for a second, then laughed.

"Sorry. My mouth works faster than my brain."

"The mouth says the brain screams in the mind." He rubbed his invisible mustache, raising his thin eyebrow so ridiculously high it could've flew off.

"Ok, ok, don't make me laugh. I need to do your stitches."

He cleaned the wound before putting in numbing cream on it. They kept talking, both trying their hardest not to laugh.

"Like sewing a sweater, huh?"

François grinned. "Remember what I said."

There was silence for maybe four minutes before Lloyd quietly sang in English, "The best time to wear a stripped sweater is all the time~"

They both started wheezing, Lloyd even crying a little. What would've taken a fifteen minute fix turned into an hour because they kept accidently making each other laugh.

"Hey," François was smiling like an idiot once they finished. "Do you want to go out with me and my friends tomorrow?"

"François, I can't walk without a cane for a week."

"Oh, well, we'll come to your room then."

"That works out. Just knock first."

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François brought Joanne and another girl bestie over. They both thought James was the cutest thing ever, and of course, James lived for the attention.

"Hey Dauphiné." Joanne said while her arm was around James' waist. "We're going for a walk, ok?" She winked at him. François gave a thumbs up.

"I feel bad for her. He only likes sex." Lloyd said to the other girl.

"Don't worry, she does too."

"We won't see them until tomorrow." They all laughed, then the other two stared at each other for a second more than necessary.

The girl, sensing the vibe, also excused herself.

"So, uh, why did you join?" The butterflies were in his throat. He tried his hardest not to start dancing.

He looked to the left. "Oh, I felt like it."

"Same, but I miss everyone at home, especially my brother."

"I miss my boyfriend."

François' brain screamed as his heart shattered. "Oh...you have a boyfriend...?"

"Yeah! I have a few pictures of him in my pocket." He took out the prettiest one and happily put it in his hand, as if he was showing him a jewel. François was almost in tears. His boyfriend was tall, hairy, so manly looking. He felt more girly the more he looked at him.

"We met in high school." Lloyd smiled and blushed as he touched the dark face on the pictures. "He was a football player, I was in marching band. I really really liked him, his name is Mulligan, by the way, and then like one day in lunch-" he started giggling like a girl while kicking his feet. The other was teary-eyed. "he asked me out! And we went on a date and kissed and now he's my boyfriend forever!"

"Aww, that's so sweet!"

"I know! Do you have a boyfriend?" He noticed the sad look on his face. "Oh, I'm sorry. That's not a nice thing to ask."

"Nah, it's good. I don't, though. I like all genders though."

"That's so cool!"

The more they spoke, the more Mulligan's face flashed in his head. He was the definition of manliness. He looked muscular, had a mustache, he looked so beautiful. It makes sense. Lloyd only deserves the best, and he sure as hell got it.

Eventually, they had to say goodbye. François hugged him and Lloyd promised they'll hang out more. If he were to be honest, he was too embarrassed to even look at him again.

That night, he silently cried himself to sleep.

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Around early February, the worst thing happened. One of the nurses was trying to help on the battlefield, and someone mistook her for a soldier and shot her in the head, killing her instantly. That nurse happened to be the girl who slept with James.

François screamed when he saw her body in the freezer. He stayed in his hard bed, crying, not eating, the works. Lloyd heard of his friend's misery and invited him to the music room. It's mainly used for small children that soldiers had or children whose parents got killed. The redhead, still grieving his loss of his friend and his chance with Lloyd, went with him.

The dimly lit room smelt of vanilla scented candles. (François' friend told Lloyd his love for them.) Lloyd had him sit with him at the grande piano. He gave him a plate of fruit.

"I'm sorry for your loss. Please eat."

François burst into tears and nibbled at the oranges first. Oh great, the butterflies were back. Lloyd cracked his long fingers before he started playing the piano.

François couldn't believe how beautiful his voice sounded. So light and refreshing, like a breath of fresh air. He laid his head on his shoulder as he kept singing. He needed this so badly and didn't even know it. Lloyd didn't dare show his face.

After he finished, he gave François the most needed hug in his life. This was, by far, the kindest thing someone had done for him. He felt Lloyd rub his back and whisper that everything would be just fine. He breathed in the scent of the candles and Lloyd, who happen to smell like bread and flowers. Weird combination, but certainly not a bad one.

If only he could be in his arms forever, but he had to let go eventually and thanked him. Lloyd looked at him with such love that François had to control his bulge. But it was friendship love, and he knew that. They walked back together, holding hands. Lloyd spoke to him in a soothing voice, the winter making its way into their clothes and forcing them to be close together, although they both didn't mind it.

Being in love is a pain in the ass.

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THE MEETING ON THE TURRET STAIRS- Frederick Burton