Chapter Text
"Mm? Oh. You have decided to show up for class today."
Juliette looked up, tapping her pen delicately against her lower lip, and gave a wry smile to Quest.
He rolled his eyes. "Someone had to keep an eye on you." He glared at the student seated next to her, and the kid quickly vacated the spot.
Swinging his feet up onto the desk, he groaned. "So what are we s'posed to be learning here, anyway?"
Juliette smirked. "English. Language arts."
He groaned louder.
The teacher walked into the room and froze. His eyes landed on Quest.
The delinquent glanced at him lazily, before returning his attention to Juliette. "This is gonna suck, isn't it."
Her smile grew wider in response.
Mr. Finstel was far from one of Juliette's favorite teachers. Even now, as he had the class walk through the classics, he sounded drier than a desert.
She stifled a yawn.
"Tired, Miss Chaumont?" Her eye twitched. The 'miss' was strangely irritating.
Not to mention demeaning. She nodded politely to the teacher. "I apologize. It was not my intention to be rude."
"Perhaps if you paid more attention-"
Quest cleared his throat, cutting the teacher off. "Move on, old man. I'm bored, and you're boring me."
Mr. Finstel flinched. "R-right." He adjusted his glasses nervously. "Class, please pair up. I'll be handing out excerpts from A Midsummer Night’s Dream. I expect you each to pick a part and read it aloud to each other. Yes, I will be paying attention. I wish to hear you act the character, so you may better analyze their feelings. Then you and your partner will work together to create a literary analysis of why these two characters' struggle is so poignant."
Juliette rolled her eyes. "He could not have chosen something more original?" She muttered.
Quest snorted.
The class paired up until it was clear Quest and Juliette were the only two left unpaired.
He glanced at her, and she shrugged.
"Shall we, princess?" He drawled.
She sighed. "I suppose. Did you even bring a pencil?"
He gave her a dry look, leaning back in his chair and lazily lacing his fingers behind his head.
She sighed. Of course he hadn't.
Digging into her bag, she went looking for one. She could hear the rustling of papers, and soon the shadow of Mr. Finstel fell over her desk.
“Miss Chaumont, perhaps it would be in your best interest to be prepared, next time?”
Her shoulders stiffened, and she began to sit up. Her mouth opened in a retort.
“What is your problem?” Quest snarled, cutting her off. “I just asked her for a fucking pencil. Fuck off, old man.”
The teacher paled. “I just- she needs to-”
Quest swung his legs down off his desk, standing up. “I’m fucking sick and tired of this. Where the fuck do you get off-”
Juliette laid her hand gently on Quest’s arm. “Come on. It is okay.” She tugged gently at his sleeve, her irritation gone in place of worry. She enjoyed seeing him at school, as much as she didn’t care to admit it. "Ça ira. Come on, let us go.”
Quest slowly peeled his gaze away from the teacher and focused back on Juliette. “...yeah,” he muttered. “Sah something. Let’s go.” He waited for Juliette to collect her things and strode out of the classroom.
Internally, Juliette sighed. She wasn’t too worried about the teacher, her older sister Genevieve would handle him.
It was more about explaining to her sister why she had skipped class.
They walked through the hallways together, the long corridors eerily empty while class was in session.
“So…what the hell did you say?”
Juliette glanced up, surprised, at Quest. “What do you mean?” She strolled beside him, keeping pace almost easily. She was taller than most of the boys she knew. It was a marvel getting to walk next to someone who made her feel small.
“The…sah thing.”
“Oh. Ça ira?”
“Yeah.
“It means it will be okay. It is something Genevieve says to me when I lose my temper. Usually, she follows it with…swear words, but it is the same.” She bumped his shoulder playfully and watched as he snorted in response.
“Your sister is legendary, I hope you know. Everyone thinks she eats nails for breakfast.”
Juliette looked at Quest, bewildered. “Eats- this is one of those American things, isn’t it?”
He grinned and nodded. “Yeah.”
She sighed. “So…what are we going to do?”
It was Quest’s turn to look puzzled. “What do you mean?” He slid an arm around her shoulders, steering her around a trashcan.
She didn’t pay it any mind when he left it there. He was warm, after all. And he smelled…nice.
“I have skipped class with you, have I not? So my afternoon becomes…’free’. What will we do?”
She leaned slightly into his hold, looking up at him.
Quest seemed momentarily caught off-guard, his mouth opening and closing several times before his brain caught up. “Uh. Here. How about this? You missed your little teachery shit, and I’m open for the next few hours. So let’s teach each other.”
“Oh?” She tilted her head.
He grinned. “I’ll teach you American collo-whatevers and you teach me how to swear in French.”
She burst into laughter. “That is a good deal. Lead on. Oh! You still haven’t told me your name.”
Quest smirked at her. “You’ll have to earn that one, Princess. Guess you’ll just have to come up with a nickname for me.”
Juliette grinned right back. “Of course, mon puce.”
He blinked. “See, now you have to tell me what that means.”
She slipped out of his grasp, heading toward the front doors of the school. “What is it you said? You will have to ‘earn’ that one.”
He whistled, following after. “Touché, Princess.”
“Ah, see?” She called over her shoulder. “You already know some French!”
-Many years later-
“Elias?”
“Mm? What is it, mon puce?”
“Do you know- wait.” Quest walked into the living room, staring pointedly at his husband.
Elias scrolled through files on his laptop, looking over photos from his latest shoot. He glanced up and smiled at the man. “What?”
“Princess.”
Elias’s eyes crinkled at the corner, filled with a mischievous light. “Mm? What am I in trouble for this time?”
“Mon puce? Really?”
Elias laughed. “It’s a nickname! I promise!”
“Hm…I don’t know. Deceit of this length deserves punishment, I think.” Quest smirked, slowly beginning to creep toward the couch. His hands raised, and Elias covered his sides protectively, already giggling. “Absolutely not. No- no!” He launched himself over the back of the couch and bolted up the stairs, his husband not far behind.