Chapter Text
Felix
I inhaled the delicious Gauloises in a swift breath. I let out a breathy sigh realizing I was only delaying the inevitable with my dallying in the afternoon Paris sun. I watched the busy street full of Parisians and tourists alike from the café garden as I flicked the ash from my cigarette. I thought back to that day three weeks ago that changed my life forever.
“Son, can I speak with you for a moment?” Mom knocked on my bedroom door.
“Sure Mom.” I opened my poster plastered wooden door.
“How would you like to see your father?” Mother stepped into my sanctuary, and her motherly aura began to contaminate my male space. I remember how I felt that day perfectly: frustrated, annoyed, and wondering why she would bring this up again? Oh, how I wished I didn’t know who my real father was anymore when the waitress arrived with my coffee and croissant. “Merci beaucoup,” I said absent minded as I noticed the plump pigeons who waddled around the stone path. I always heard Paris had a pigeon problem. Now they have an obese pigeon problem.
Why would he even want to see me now? The man hid his mistake from most of the world including his other son, and now he decided to reach out my American mom in America right before my 18th birthday to spend some quality father/son time? It was truly unexpected. He missed 17ish years of my life, and only wanted to see me now. What kind of man was Mr. Agreste?
“I’m a tough tooting baby, I can punch-a your buns! Punch-a your buns, I can punch all your buns! If you’re an evil witch I will punch you for fun!" My ringtone went off, and that was when I realized people in France must not know about Adventure Time. Blushing I answered my phone, “Hello?” I really should have said bonjour, I mentally kicked myself.
“Felix, where are you?” The voice hissed at me.
“I was just grabbing breakfast.” I answered.
“You can have breakfast here. I want you to leave immediately before we’re behind schedule.”
Behind schedule, “Yes of course. How silly of me to forget.” I pushed the cigarette out into a nearby ashtray. “I’ll leave right now, and should be there in fifteen minutes.” The behind schedule rang in my ears as I stood from that table. I suppose that answered my question of what Mr. Agreste was like.
“I will be waiting.” He ended the phone call at that.
“Well I can already tell we won’t be getting along.” I muttered under my breath reaching for another cigarette. What a long summer this would be.