You Can Be My Simba

“We could fake your death!” I offered

“Oh sure, that would be a fantastic idea!” France replied, his tone seeping with sarcasm.

“Well, you think of something then” I moaned leaning my head on my pillow, my phone resting on my face. My cheeks tickled from the vibrations every time France’s voice arose through the small speaker.

“I don’t know, I don’t want to move”

“I don’t want you to move either…Hey you could get into trouble so you have to stay here and do community work”

“Casper…” was all he replied, causing a smile to take over my face. We were silent for a while after that, only hearing an occasional loud breath. France had breathed his sixth breath when a sudden realisation hit me.

“This is like Lion king!” I blurted out, obviously startling Francis.

“Huh what?” he muttered, a few clinking objects in the background.

“This whole thing with you moving… it’s like when Simba and Nala get separated!” I shouted down the phone, pulling myself up in to a sitting position.

“No way!” Francis replied his tone filled with recognition, I smiled into the phone as France rambled on.

“Come round” I interrupted.

“What?”

“Come round” I repeated.

“See you soon Simba” And with that and hung up. I closed my phone and gave my room a quick clean up before the sound of the doorbell chimed through my ears. I ran down the stairs like a childish schoolgirl and pulled open the door, revealing a very attractive boy on the other side. My boy. I grabbed hold of his hand and carefully pulled him into the house, closing the door behind me.

“Nobody’s home” I whispered and watched as his warm smile took over his face as he leaned down to attach his lips to mine, his tongue slid into my mouth as he placed more pressure against me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and climbed onto my tiptoes, my heart racing as the butterflies in my stomach increased their fluttering. I hadn’t realised we had walked into the living room until France detached his mouth from mine so he could breathe

“You get better every time” he mumbled against my neck. I moved my arms so they were around his shoulders, and shivered as France wrapped his bare arms around my waist, pulling me closer. “I’m a good teacher,” he added, a small chuckle leaving his perfect lips.

“Oh shh” I replied, lightly hitting his chest, my stomach burst with another batch of butterflies as France moved forward; pushing me backwards and connecting our lips again. His lips pressed tightly against mine. Too forced as if he expected this kiss to be our last and wanted to savour it for eternity, but his lips were smooth and supple as they moved against my own. His hands caressed my neck, slowly sliding up to my flushed cheeks. The hand was cool at first, until it made its way to my cheeks, after that all I felt was the intense warmth radiating off my skin. I felt him step closer towards me until I fell gracefully onto the couch, our lips disconnecting while he sat on top of me. Each leg cradling my side.

“And I have more to teach you” he muttered, his tone seducing me. I felt my blood rush down south and quickly pulled Francis down on top of me, so his eyes were eye-level with my own hazel ones.

“Do you love me?” I asked, a small smile tugging at my lips. France pulled himself up so he was leaning on his palms of his hands and looked away from his face, a tint of red freckling his cheeks. I moved my hands so I could place them on his face and carefully turned his face to look at me. My smile broadened and the butterflies were taking over my stomach once again.

“Yes” he crocked, his eyes looking anywhere but me. The butterflies turned into dragons at that point, my face brightening from embarrassment. I also looked away and dropped my hands so I could fiddle with the zip on my jacket. There was an awkward silence after that, but I still couldn’t erase the big grin taking over my face. Francis crawled off me and sat himself down on the end of the sofa, taking up as little room as possible, I copied his gesture but gave myself more room.

“I think that…I love you too” I replied, my face becoming alarmingly redder.

“Really?” France turned his head towards me and gave me an awkward smile.

“Yeah” And with that he kissed me again, a soft gentle kiss that was so close to perfection.

“I love you” he tried the three words on his lips and grabbed hold of my hand and stood up, pulling me up with him.

“I love you too” I replied, the sentence sounding so completely right. He gave a small giggle before walking out the room and into the kitchen, his hand wrapped tightly around my own.

“I’m hungry” France mumbled once sitting himself comfortable in one of the kitchen chairs.

“Well let’s NOT bake a cake”

“Ha! No, how about….Apple pie? I want some apple pie” he whined, kicking his legs up and down.

“Apple pie?” I questioned, opening the fridge. “Alright, let’s try it,” I added.

This was going to be interesting…