A noble’s house-the past-
In 1700 Paris, France French citizens where in their houses and apartments sleep, but monsieur Thomas de Claire was in his mansion writing with his quill pen in his bed room. ‘‘Seigneur de Claire.’’ A maid with brown hair tucked away in her maid cap. Violet his head maid came in and fixed his bed. Thomas vastly dipped his pen in he pulled it out and the black sticky ink spilled on the page. ‘‘Shit.’’ Thomas mumbled.
‘‘Monsieur are you okay,’’ violet said jumping up. She was always so concerned towards him.
‘’I’m just fine my ink spilled.’’ Violet held it up over the trashcan and examined it. Terrible.
‘‘Oh I’m sure you’ll fix up.’’ She dropped it in the trash.
In the kitchen the window opened. A teenage boy slipped in. john. He slipped in the window and his head hit the pans. ‘‘Dang.’’ he growled. He raced towards the food storage. Her invaded it and stuffed his mouth with food. He was poor. He lived on the streets after his parents abandon him. He lived off stealing. ‘‘Hmm I wonder how the whole thing look,’’ he said looked devilishly as he ran towards the dining room upstairs. A flock of tailored servants walked pass him as he crouched behind a stand holding up a vase. When the door closed, he jumped up and walked up the stairs. A tall man with slicked back blonde hair, blue eyes, and noble outfit. He yawned and looked at the staircase. John bend down low enough not to be noticed. Damn this was hard. John waited for the man the go back in his room. Luckily he did. One slam of the heavy wood door sent him running across the floor. A hand reached out pulling him. John yelled. The man closed the door. ‘‘Who are you and why are you in my house?’’
John slapped his forehead and pulled on his brown dusty hair. ‘‘Oh so this isn’t my house.’’ He smiled dumbly.
‘‘Your very stupid you know. I’m getting the police.’’ John suddenly clanged on to the door and scared.
‘‘Please don’t sir.’’ He begged. Thomas could see the pain in his eyes. ‘‘Please.’’
‘‘Well then I’ll make you an exception. If you be my assistant.’’
‘‘In what lordship.’’
‘‘No writing and manners.’’
‘‘Gross,’’ john said.
‘‘Then you’ll work.’’ Thomas sat down and john slouched to the floor. ‘’I’m Thomas de Claire.’’
‘‘John.’’ John looked at him.
Two years later,
John was now eighteen and Thomas was twenty-six. After Thomas was done with his frustrating work. He would get in bed with Thomas. Yes after years they slept in the same bed and had sex too secretly. He kissed Thomas and they both stuck their tongues in each other’s mouth. John stopped. ‘‘Oh my lord you hate this,’’ Thomas said disappointed.
‘‘Oh no darling I’m just stressed.’’ Thomas got in his bed. John his rested his chin on his chest.
‘‘Your dull.’’ Thomas said. He giggled and jumped on Thomas crossing his legs around his waist. ‘‘Lighten up.’’ Her kissed him and unbuttoned his shirt. Thomas kissed his neck.
They lay in the sticky bed with john a sleep and Thomas sneaking out of bed to finish his work. he gave john a kiss on the forehead.
I’m still doing boyz and ecole de ballet but I’m done with poems and immigrant love.