You Can Be My Simba

“Pick up! Pick up! Pick up!” I muttered into my phone. I had asked my dad for a quick break after serving Natalie and her family their drinks, so I was now waiting for France to pick up his dam phone.

“Hello?”

“France listen to me,” I said down the phone, I could hear him on his Xbox, clearly more interested on killing people on a TV screen than listening to his phone.

“Okay, what?” His background noise went quiet, I figured he’d paused his game.

“Natalie is here, in the restaurant” I mumbled

“Oh, gutted, what you going to do?” He didn’t sound so concerned, he was probably finding it funny

“I don’t know. I wouldn’t have called you otherwise!”

“Umm…okay, I’ll be right over” he replied, hanging up the phone.

“But…you’re not allowed” I said, listening to the beeping sound on the other end of the line. I placed my head in my hands and walked out the closet I had escaped into to get more privacy.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Would you like desert?” I offered, keeping my eyes on Mr Adams the whole time. Natalie's mum’s eyes were horrible to look into, she literally could make my face melt by just staring at me.

“Yes please, We would like two chocolate fudge cakes and a Vanilla slice” I jotted down their orders and left the table.

“Where the hell is he?” I moaned walking back into the kitchen, I have been complaining to Emily all night, and she doesn’t seem to be happy with me right now.

“He’s in the closet” she muttered, annoyance in her tone. “He came when you were serving, I shoved him in the closet.” She added walking away.

I placed Natalie’s family’s order on the side and ran over to the closet, making sure my dad didn’t catch me.

“Sup” France was leaned casually against the shelves. A look that was really working for him.

“Hi” I mumbled, suddenly feeling really nervous around France.

“So, what can I do” he smirked, coming closer to me. No, I have to be good; it’s my first day at work. I turned round so my back was to him and placed my hands on an old cooker that was in front of me. I closed my eyes and groaned, I didn’t know what I was going to do. Suddenly my legs went numb and I had to grab hold of the cooker to keep myself up right, they had completely collapsed. France had come up behind me and put his bare arms around my waist. He leaned in and whispered into my ear

“I thought you wanted my help” I went limp again but France held me up. I felt a smile tug at his lips, he knew what he was doing to me, and he was totally taking advantage of it. He slipped his hands slowly down my stomach and placed his thumbs in the rim of my trousers causing me to shiver. His skin was warm against my usual cold skin. I took a deep breath and tried a reply. Nothing, I couldn’t speak now. France pulled his thumbs out of my trousers and spun me round; every inch of his body was touching mine. It was only our lips that weren’t touching and I am guessing it’s before he’s trying to tease me. “I will help, if you really need my help” France mumbled, emphasis on the ‘really’, his breath warm against my face, I couldn’t take it! I leaned in making the first move and our lips crashed together. Fireworks and big fat babies with arrows were everywhere! France began walking slowly backwards holding onto my waist so I had to follow him. Everything about this was magical. I smiled into the kiss as his back hit the wall behind him. Our hands exploring each other’s bodies. France detached his lips and placed his forehead against mine. “You have to work”

“Why” I moaned, taking a step back.

“Because you owe my family money” I watched France’s swollen lips move as he spoke. He smiled, showing me he was joking and I smiled back.

“Fine I’ll go work, bye Nala” I whispered before walking out the closet door “But you have to stay here, You’re not actually allowed to be here” I added, before closing the door on his frowning face.

I grabbed my tray and pen, trying hard to hide my smile. Sadly I hadn’t done to well as Emily noticed.

“Why so happy?” she furrowed her eyebrows “down below” she whispered the last words, giggling to herself. I looked down and yep, there he was, my face went beetroot red and I ran straight into the staff toilets.

“Bugger! Why did you have to appear now, she’s so going to know!” I shouted at myself. I tried thinking of thinks to make it go away. Things I hate, old people in bikinis, a girl, any girl. Old man in bikini… That’s it. As I was walking out I began thinking. Why can’t people know about us? Are we actually keeping this a secret? Does France want people to know? Do I want people to know?