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Christmas was cursed. Maybe not all Christmas celebrations were, but definitely Philippe’s. First, his mother changed her mind and decided that the family would be spending the holidays in Louis’ house. Which meant Philippe had to drive across the entire, snow and ice-covered city. Second, she insisted on having a special-order cake from her favourite bakery, so when Philippe was almost at his brother’s place, he had to turn around and go back.
Finally, with the cake safely secured on the passenger seat, Philippe was slowly making his way towards his older brother’s apartment. That was when the curse dealt its final blow. The car in front of him started skidding on the frozen road. He quickly turned the wheel to avoid collision and ended up in the ditch next to the road.
“Fuck man, are you alright?”
The door on the driver’s side opened and a blonde head peaked inside. Philippe’s head was against the steering wheel. There were two warm hands gently raising his head, and Philippe’s green eyes met gorgeous blue ones.
“Je vais bien, mon chevalier.” Philippe stroked the man’s cheek.
“I think that means you hit your head real hard, man. You’re speaking French.”
“And you’re beautiful.” Philippe touched his own forehead and saw blood on his fingers. “Oh, I’m sorry. Thank you.” He said as the other man helped him out of the car. Philippe looked for his phone, dialing his insurance. “Fuck, I won’t get a tow truck. Not today.”
Meanwhile, out of nowhere, the other man conjured up a cloth and pressed it against the still bleeding wound. “Where are you going? I can give you a ride, so you can still enjoy Christmas Eve. And you can pick up your car tomorrow.” The blond man led them both to his car. He helped Philippe crawl up the small slope onto the road, holding him around the hips.
“Wait. My mother’s cake.” Philippe remembered as he sat down on the plush passenger seat.
“Your chevalier de Lorraine to the rescue. Wait here.” He exclaimed dramatically as he closed the door behind Philippe and ran back down into the abandoned vehicle. He returned five minutes later, placing the cake into Philippe’s still slightly shaking hands. he asked for an address and started the engine, turning up the heat a little.
“De Lorraine, huh?” Philippe tried to break the awkward silence that settled in the car.
“Philippe Lorraine is my full name, my darling.”
Philippe grinned as he realized they shared a name. “Nice to meet you, Philippe. I’m Philippe d’Orleans.”
“Well, what a nice coincidence. Care to find out if our phone numbers match?”