Fics like c'est l'histoire d'une vie

Max turned just in time to see the boy from before—the one who had been helping Lewis move in—running towards him, panting heavily as he caught up. His backpack was falling off one shoulder, and his face was flushed. “Bonjour,” the boy greeted, switching to heavily accented English. “Je m’appelle Charles. You are Max, yes? We go to the same school.” “Uh, yeah,” Max replied, caught off guard by the rapid switch between French and English. He’d expected the boy to sound more British, like his father, or even German like Sebastian. “Do you want to walk with me?” Charles asked, his voice hopeful. “My dads told me not to walk alone.” Max hesitated. He glanced down the street where, in the distance, he could see both Sebastian and Lewis standing, smiling and waving at him and Charles. He bit his lip, looking up at the apartment complex, wondering if his dad was watching from the balcony. Finally, he nodded. “Okay.” OR How it all started

Fics like c'est l'histoire d'une vie

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