(alright! Sounds fun, let's do it lmao)
Jack glanced over at Elizabeth and Francis for a moment, then returned his attention to Pierre and Jules.
"-why yes, I am sure that Jules could accompany you tomorrow, if he wishes to. Jules?" Pierre was saying.
Jules blinked. "Oh. I er…yes, of course. That would be lovely." He replied in his soft voice.
(Sweet!)
Francis was pulled out of his Elizabeth trance at the mention of Jules accompanying Jack. “Accompanying where?” He asked suddenly, looking between Jack and Pierre. He missed the first part of what Jack said, having been distracted by his sister. He held his fork in his fingers while it rested on the plate, resisting the urge to tap it anxiously.
Jack looked at him. "Hm? Oh. Out. Tomorrow. I don't know where yet." He replied with a quick smile. "You can come too, I guess."
Jules gave a faint smile.
“Oh. Sure, thank you.” He returned the brief smile before picking up his fork again. He took another bite of his food, his eyes remaining on the table for the few seconds while he chewed. He’d been meaning to get out, and even though it was with Jack, it was still going someplace.
Jack smiled a little. "Yeah, you're welcome." He replied with a quick smile. He stretched. The next course of the meal was served, and he happily started eating.
(Gtg now. Good night!)
(G’night!)
Francis wiped his mouth off with his napkin while the next course was being served. Before he started eating, he took a small, slow sip of the drink in his glass. Over the rim of the glass, he looked at Elizabeth again. He saw her as just as becoming as her brother, with similar features, and her brilliant mind. If he courted her, it would certainly be more socially acceptable than trying to pursue a man. But that was only if he wanted to pursue anything. If. He wasn’t sure yet.
Jack let out his breath in a slow sigh. He glanced at Francis for just a moment, finding himself quite unable to forget that hug. Awkward and stilted as it had been…it had been a hug. He had been held, even for just a few seconds. And it was so hard to forget that.
Francis avoided looking at Jack again now that he didn’t have anything to say to him. He focused on eating his meal, keeping his eyes on the plate or the table cloth, or distracted himself from his thoughts by glancing at Elizabeth. It was hard to admit he felt differently about Jack. He didn’t look at him, but he continued to think about him. In the matter of a minute long hug, how did everything change? How did he start liking this man? His thoughts darted back and forth from Jack and Elizabeth. Jack confused him, baffled him, but he admired Elizabeth’s sophistication. He took another sip of his drink.
Elizabeth took a sip of her own drink. She seemed far more put together than Jack did, but at the same time, Jack's movements seemed to have far more energy and almost…life, than hers. Hers were controlled, a picture-perfect model of what she should be. Jack was far from that, but at the same time…the difference between them was all-too-obvious.
Francis related more with Elizabeth. They both simply did what they were told. They both were who they should be. But he found himself more attracted to Jack. He felt as if he was being pulled to Jack, like how any earth bound creature wished to fly among eagles. He knew he couldn’t yearn to fly, because if he yearned he would try, and if he tried he would plummet towards the ice, to his death.
Finally, when dinner ended, Jules excused himself, slipping from the room after saying that he had things he needed to work on.
Pierre looked at Jack. "I have heard that you are a remarkable violin player. Do you think you could demonstrate?"
Jack blinked. "Yes, I suppose I am. As for a demonstration…I don't know where my violin is right now. Sorry. Perhaps if I find it before we leave." he replied with a smile.
Francis perked up, listening intently. Jack played violin? He always loved music, but never had the talent to play it. “I would love to hear as well. Whenever you get the chance,” he piped up. He remembered his brother used to play the harpsichord, but as he grew up, and began playing it less. He didn’t hear much music anymore, at least not at home.
Jack gave him a startled look. "Oh. I er…like I said, I don't know where it is. Probably in the luggage somewhere." He replied with a quick, faint little smile. To tell the truth, it had been a long time since he played for other people. He wasn't even sure what sheet music he had with him. Hopefully some fun ones and not just boring, old stuff.
“That’s alright. We have all tour.” He offered a faint smile, returning his gaze to the scenery outside. He debated whether or not to ask what songs he could play. He decided against it. Like he said, they had all tour to talk, and he preferred to stay quiet for now.
Jack shrugged a little. He looked at Pierre. "May we be excused? I am sure my sister is exhausted, and I myself would like to look through my luggage and find things before tomorrow."
"Of course, of course." Pierre responded. "Let me know if you need anything."
“I should head to my room to look through my luggage as well.” Francis stood you from his seat. Francis offered another smile. “Thank you so much, for everything, Monsieur.” He fixed the cuffs of his sleeves.
Elizabeth excused herself quietly, heading to her own room in a rustle of skirts.
Jack took a deep breath. "Thank you." He said to Pierre, echoing Francis and offering a smile as well, flashing matching dimples in each cheek.
Pierre smiled. "Yes, you're quite welcome." He replied. "Have a good night."
Francis returned the good wish before turning back to go to his room. He placed his hands in his pockets, eager to get some rest. He stepped inside his room, and as usual, closed the door behind him. He peeled off his coat, hung them in the wardrobe, and slipped off his shoes. Without bothering to untie his hair, he fell onto his bed, hugging one of the pillows for comfort.
Jack went to his room, and poked through the luggage stacked inside. He finally, finally found his violin, and got it out. He plucked the strings, checking the tuning and tuning it up. He tucked it under his chin, took a deep breath, and began to play. He played quietly, though he knew the sound would likely still carry through the rooms.
Francis, who hadn’t fallen asleep yet, lifted his head at the sound of the violin. He blinked tiredness from his eyes, sitting up on his bed to listen. Was that Jack? It had to be, no one else mentioned they played violin—at least not so close to his room. It was beautiful, and he happily stayed up to listen while he played. He knew he couldn’t compliment him for it now; he would wait for later, more than likely the next day. The sound of the muffled music made his heart swell. It reminded him of home.
Jack played a few scales, then paused, thinking. After a few minutes, he began to play an Irish tune that he had learned when he was younger. He took a deep breath, and continued to play for a long time, eventually sitting down on the bed instead of standing.
Francis closed his eyes as the sound of the violin turned into a song. A smile spread across his face—he didn’t recognize it, but it was lovely. He lifted his face to the ceiling and rested his hands on his knees, tapping his thumb to the pace of the music. He listened for the duration of while Jack played, and he lost track of the time.
Jack ended up playing for far longer than he had meant to, before finally letting the notes fade into silence, and began putting the instrument away, careful and gentle as he set it in its case. He took a deep breath, and then sat on the bed again, linking his fingers together.
Francis opened his eyes again when he heard the violin stop. He had fallen back onto the mattress, resting his hands intertwined over his stomach. He missed the music, but he found that it had left him feeling satisfied and happy, even now that silence had taken over the room again. He let out a sigh through his nose, silently deciding he was ready to fall asleep now.
Jack changed into bedclothes and lay down in the bed. He felt tired, more drained than he had anticipated, and just wanted to sleep, at this point. He pulled the blankets over himself.
Francis finally mustered they energy to pull himself to the head of the bed. He wriggled under the blankets, pulling them up over his shoulders. He rested his head on one pillow, and hugged another with his arms. He found it was more difficult to sleep when he wasn’t hugging something.
Jack fell asleep after a while, and for once his sleep was deep and dreamless. He wished, though, that he had someone to hold him. He was quite definitely the little spoon, and preferred to be held whenever possible.
Francis fell asleep shortly after his head hit the pillow. He dreamed about this that reminded him of his brother—the good things. Things like summer days and the flower wreathes he wore, and even Jack. Jack had reminded him of his brother more and more throughout the night, along with the reminder of home.
(Shall we timeskip?)
(Sure! To when?)