Geez, He Looks Cute
Lafayette x Reader Word Count: 2175 A/N: Just a mid-week pick me up for you, Sweethearts 💗
“Yes, your father is very brave, Amaury,” you said appreciatively as you tied the little boy’s shoes.
He rested his hand on the top of your head, probably messing it up, not that you minded. As a first grader, he wasn’t necessarily coordinated yet, and if it meant having frizzy hair to keep him upright, it was worth it. The poor boy was clumsy in nature, you’d be curious to know how he fares when he grows bigger.
“He’s smart, too,” Amaury continued, “He helps be do my adding.”
You grinned, as you moved on to zipping up his jacket; “Oh yes,” you agreed, “Father’s are usually very smart.” Well, he can’t be TOO smart, since he is continuously late picking up his only child from school, but that’s not something you can say to a child who idolizes his father. That’s not something you could say to anybody, really.
“Are you sure you weren’t supposed to go home with a big kid?” You asked, pulling his hat on the top of his head. Occasionally, his father told Amaury to go home with Sammy, an older boy who lives right beside the Lafayette family. It’s happened more than once, you waiting with Amaury long after the final bell rang, because he had forgotten his father’s instructions.
“No,” the little boy replied, happily, “He’s going to pick me up. We’re going to eat some ice cream on our way home.”
You smiled, and he returned it with a toothless one of his own; “That sounds wonderful,” you grinned before standing up and peering out the window to see if the ever-late Gilbert was approaching the school, yet. No sign of him.
“I’ll tell you what,” you said, turning back around to face the little boy, who was looking at you expectantly, “Why don’t we read a book while we wait? Does that sound nice?”
Amaury nodded his head, enthusiastically, “Only if you’re reading it, Miss Y/L/N,” he said playfully, already making his way to the bookshelf.
You couldn’t help but chuckle, “Of course,” you agreed, following as he paved the way.
Naturally, he picked his favourite; Green Eggs and Ham. You’ve read this book more times than you could count; the thing with first graders is that as soon as one of them have a favourite, they all have a favourite. And their favourite book at the moment was Green Eggs and Ham. For what felt like the hundredth time that week, you opened the Dr. Seuss book and began reading it, doing your best “Sam” voice. At this point, Sam was turning into your alter ego, you pretended to be him so frequently.
“And I do no like-“ you began, before there was a hurried knock on the classroom door.
“I am sorry I am late,” Gilbert said, his words rushed. You knew he was from France, and although English isn’t his first language he’s fluent; however, that didn’t prevent his over-pronunciation, making his ‘rushed’ sentences a little bit awkward.
“It’s my daddy!” Amaury exclaimed, getting up from his spot on the reading mat and running over to his father.
Gilbert picked his little man up and smiled at you, apologetically. “Hey, little guy,” he said, lifting his son into his arms. “Miss Y/L/N, I’m sorry to keep you waiting,” he apologized, sounding like he had ran all the way to your classroom from France. “I was held up in a meeting with my boss, I couldn’t get out of it. It won’t be happening again.”
You nodded your head in understanding; you were only kept fifteen or so minutes after school was out, which wasn’t too bad in the grand scheme of things. You’d hate for it to become even more of a habit than it already is, though.
“That’s alright, Gilbert,” you grinned with a soft sigh, “Oh, and Amaury, did you grab your adding and subtracting worksheet to take home?” You asked, the little guy, “I hear you’re very good at adding,” you said, this time to Gilbert.
He smiled bashfully as his son scurried out of his arms and ran over to his desk, “I almost forgot,” he muttered as he began pulling out his mess of papers, looking for his practice-worksheet.
“It’s not homework or anything,” you explained quietly as Amaury searched around, “It’s just incase he wants to practice. He’s actually very good at his math,” you shrugged.
“I am very glad,” Gilbert said with a sigh, “I have been a lot busier at work, taking on extra shifts, attending more meetings… I’m glad he’s not being affected by it too badly,” he continued, nearly sadly.
You nodded you head in understanding, “Oh, well, I think he’s doing just fine. But maybe if you don’t have the time to pick him up after school, your wife can pop in-“
“Oh no,” Gilbert intervened quickly, “Me and Marie, we are not… We are not with each other anymore.”
Your eyes widened, and you felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment—how could you not know they were split? You usually know the parents of your students fairly well… “Oh, I’m so sorry,” you apologized quickly, “I just assumed—because she’s been here a quite a few times, and that student-led conference—I’m sorry, I didn’t realize…” You mumbled quickly, having far too many things to say and not nearly enough time to say them.
Gilbert chuckled, as Amaury began piling his papers back into his desk, “I found it,” he declared, re-organizing his little papers, quickly.
“That is okay, Miss Y/L/N,” Gilbert grinned, “It was a few years ago, now… We have joint custody, but we’ve been apart for years.”
“That’s too bad,” you replied, not really sure of what to say next. Luckily, Amaury re-joined you, his little worksheet in hand.
“Ready, dad!” He exclaimed, grabbing at his fathers hand. “Goodbye, Miss Y/L/N!”
You chuckled and waved to the little boy as he and his father left your classroom. “Goodbye Amaury, I’ll see you on Monday!”
***
After being told Amaury’s parents were split up, you began wondering why you hadn’t realized it sooner. The only time you had actually seen Gilbert and Marie together was during the student-led conference, and the parent-teacher conference. You couldn’t help but feel a little bit guilty.
“Now is daddy or mommy picking you up today?” You asked, zipping up the familiar blue winter jacket.
“Daddy,” Amaury answered, “Mom’s boss sent her away for a little while.”
You quirked an eyebrow; “Oh? Where did she get sent away to?” You asked, purely out of curiosity.
“I don’t remember,” Amaury answered simply, “She has to work. She’s coming home in four sleeps.”
You nodded you head, “I see,” you replied, tucking on his hat, “So it’s just you and daddy for the week, huh?” You grinned, “That’ll be fun.”
Amaury nodded his head, “Yeah, he says we’re going to have tonnes of fun; we’re going to eat pizza, we’re going to watch movies, we’re going to play—oh hi, dad,” he said, grinning over your shoulder to Gilbert, who was nearly on time today. Of course all the other kids were gone by now, but it was nothing compared to last week.
“Hey A,” Gilbert greeted his son, “Miss Y/L/N,” he smiled at you, giving you a curt nod of his head.
You smiled back, “Hello Gilbert,” you grinned, handing him his son’s backpack.
“Oh, you can call me Lafayette,” he said with a gentle smile, “Everybody else does.”
You nodded you head, “Lafayette,” you smiled, “Got it. And you don’t actually have to call me Miss Y/L/N; I’m Y/N.”
“Y/N,” Lafayette grinned, “Got it.”
***
For the next few weeks, you and Lafayette had these little meetings after school while he picked up Amaury. You thought it may be flirting, but that could easily be you just misinterpreting things. But just to make sure, you kept the small meetings to a minimum—you weren’t sure of his intentions with you, but you definitely thought he was attractive, and smart, and even though he was late picking him up most of the time, you knew he was a good father to Amaury. You didn’t really want anything to come from that, though; not only would it be unprofessional, but if it didn’t work out, you didn’t want Amaury to be affected by it at all. It was just trouble waiting to happen.
So on Friday morning, when Amaury was being dropped off, and Lafayette asked to speak with you quickly, besides your little bit of excitement, you felt panic. Pure panic.
“Oh,” you let out, “Well—well class with be starting soon,” you muttered, nearly incoherently.
Lafayette nodded his head, and let his shoulders slump the tiniest bit; “I know, I was just wondering—well, hoping, really, that you would like to… Go on a date with me… Tomorrow evening?” He asked hesitantly, his accent becoming thick with his nervousness.
Oh geez, he looked cute… You blinked a couple of times, a hundred thoughts running through your mind. Of course he was cute, and handsome, and funny, and he was DEFINITELY French. But was it morally acceptable to date your student’s father? Of course, Amaury wouldn’t know, unless it turned into something serious… He wouldn’t have a clue about anything… That makes it a bit better, doesn’t it?
“If you do not want to, I understand-“
“No,” you interrupted him quickly, before realizing how eager and probably scary you sounded, you grinned nervously, letting your shoulders slump; “It’s not that, I just… I would love to,” you answered, suddenly out of breath.
“Okay,” Lafayette responded, a dopy grin on his face, “I will text you, then,” he continued, “Can I have your, uh, your—“
“Oh!” You exclaimed, “Yeah, my phone number,” you chuckled nervously, before scurrying over to your desk, writing it quickly down on a sticky note, “Here you go,” you smiled, handing him the note.
“Perfect,” Lafayette smiled, “Have a good day, Miss Y/L/N,” he grinned, “I will see you later.”
You smiled brightly back at him, “Goodbye, Lafayette.”
***
“He talks about you a lot,” Lafayette admitted, his accent growing thick with every drink he took, “He really likes you.”
You couldn’t help but grin; “I’m glad,” you said honestly, “He’s a really sweet kid; a great student, too.”
Lafayette nodded his head, “Oh good; he could be a bit wild at home, I was kinda worried he was wild at school, too…”
“Oh, well he’s a little bit rowdy,” you giggled, “But he knows the limits.”
Lafayette had taken you out to dinner; when he was dropping you off, you realized you weren’t quite ready to say goodbye, yet. While you were on your date, you learned all about France, and all about his family, and home, and you weren’t quite sick of that adorable accent yet, so you invited him for a little drink. And here you were, laying on a blanket in your living room, beside Laf, a glass of wine sitting on the ground next to you.
“He talks about you a lot, too,” you mentioned, rolling onto your side so you could look at him; “He thinks you’re great.”
Lafayette smiled brightly as he, too, rolled onto his side. “And what do you think?” He asked, the smallest of smirks playing at his lips.
You fought to keep the blush from covering your cheeks, and even though you weren’t successful, you were grateful that Lafayette didn’t comment on it. “I think you’re fine,” you shrugged, grinning.
“Mm, just fine?” He teased, moving from laying on the blanket, to sitting.
You copied his motions, biting the inside of your bottom lip as you thought up a response; luckily, though, you didn’t have to. Lafayette spoke once again.
“Because I thought you were pretty amazing,” he said softly, “And I would really like to take you out again,” he said, substantially more confident than he is without any alcohol in his system.
You grinned, as you nodded your head, “I would like that, too,” you replied, looking down to your hands, fiddling with your fingers to avoid looking at the man sitting in front of you. Since when was a boy able to give you butterflies again? Didn’t you pass this stage in high school?
Lafayette chuckled, using his thumb and finger, he tilted your face up to look at him. He shook his head gently before leaning in to you, pressing his lips against your gently, giving you the chance to pull away if that’s what you wanted to do.
You definitely didn’t want to pull away. Using his hair, you pulled him closer to you, softly. You felt him smile into the kiss, making you grin, too.
“Lafayette?” You asked, hesitantly.
“Mhm?” He replied, pressing his lips against yours, pulling you into another kiss.
“I definitely think you’re better than ‘just fine.’“
