Une Scottish? ScotlandxReader

Une Scottish?

ScotlandxReader Fiction.

Please read the description before reading, and then enjoy ^^.

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“Hé (Name), you remember we're going out tonight, n'est-ce pas?” Françoise asked you.

“Yeah, I remember...” You sighed.  Françoise Bonnefoy was your best friend since you moved to France for your last high school years, and now that you were at the University, she was your room-mate.

“Why do I have to go with you?” You asked, slipping into your favorite jeans and a (color) shirt.

“Bicose it will be fun. And don't worry, zhe Kirkland brothers will be 'ere as well, so you won't be surrounded only by strangers.” She chuckled.

By the 'Kirkland brothers' she meant Allistair, Arthur, Seamus, Rory and Dylan Kirkland, all originated from a different part of the United Kingdom and Ireland but brothers nonetheless and they had to move to France for some unknown reason, much to Arthur disapointment. You met them at the same time as you met Françoise.

You huffed as an answer. “What is it called again?”

“It's 'Fest-noz', which iz zhe breton for 'night party'. I know you don't like to go out at night or to go to some nightclub, but it iz really different.” She replied with a wink.

And that's how you found yourself in a wide hall full with various people, from elderly persons to young children, all chatting together, waiting for the show to begin. A huge stage had been set at the bottom of the room. Some tables and chairs were at the opposite along with the refreshment bar were you could buy various snacks and drinks, but mostly pancakes and cider. Leaving a reasonable place in the middle. Françoise and you were greated by the five thick-eyebrowed men known as the Kirkland brothers and soon enough music was brought to your ears.

The room was lit by various spots on the ceiling, leaving it slightly dark, but bright enough to see clearly. The sound of a bagpipes filled the room, followed by more modern instruments like drums and electric guitars which made the music sound like a mix of traditional and rock.

Quite pleasant. you thought before feeling your wrist being pulled and before you knew it, you were in the circle of dancers in the middle of the room, holding the persons next to you by their pinkie. You stumbled a little before somewhat succeeding to fit your steps to the rhythm of the music.

Growing a little more confident, you raised your head to look at the person in front of you, more precisely, at its feet. You tried to copy the movements, along with the motion of the arms. Truth be told, you were doing quite well, and when the music stopped you were slightly panting from the effort.

After a few more dances you decided to take a break. You plopped yourself on one chair, panting and sweating. You heard a familiar voice chuckle beside you.

“What's so fun Arthur?” You turned to smile at your british friend.

“You seem to enjoy yourself, that's great to see, love.”

“Well, I didn't see you on the dance floor, aren't you getting bored of sitting here?”

“Not at all, I like watching people, and by the way I came here only because I was afraid those four gits would drive home after drinking to much cider...” He said motionning over the four guys, dancing in the circle. You chuckled, that guy was so sweet, no wonder why Françoise had fallen for him.

Before you could get a chance to answer you saw Arthur being jerked out of his chair by said woman.

“Come on Artur, you've not been mouving since we arrived. I want you to dance wizh me!”

You smiled at his flustered face and his bright blush. You watched Françoise dragging him on the dancefloor, in the middle of other couples. You giggled at his frown, struggling to keep the lead from the mischevious girl waltzing with him. Then your eyes landed on messy reddish hair...

Allistair was wearing his plaid pants with zippers along with a loose black shirt. He was currently dancing with a little girl in his arms, making her spin around to the rhythm of the flute.

You realised you've been staring for a long time when the music ended and you saw the red-haired man walking towards you.

“Hey lass, ye've been havin' that goofy smele for a whele. Somethin' funneh t'share weth me?” he sat in the chair Arthur previously occupied.

“Nothing special, I just thought it was cute seeing you dancing with that little girl.” You giggled, remembering the wide smile on the kid's features.

“Ah could dance weth ye too.” he leaned closer to your face, grass-green eyes staring into (eyes color) ones, making you a little nervous for you had a liking for the scottish man.

“I-I would love to.” you managed to say.

Before you could realise what you had say you heard one of the musician announce the next dance. The name sounded weird for you, not at all a name for a dance. But Allistair jumped out of his seat and grabbed your wrist.

“Perfect, a Sco'esh!” he exclaimed.

“A Scottish?” Your eyes widened as he took your right hand in his left one and put the other on your waist.

“Dunnae worry, ah'll show ye. Alreght, look.” he made two quick steps on his left then two others on his right and next four hopped steps while spinning around.

“Get it, lass? Just follow me.” you slightly nodded.

Next thing you know, all was spinning around you as you followed Allistair's quick pace. At first you were afraid of bumping into someone, but then you completely melted in his bright green eyes staring down at you and nothing else mattered.

Flute, bagpipes and clarinet rang into your ears as you let the melody and Allistairs steps guide you. He held you closer to him and whispered three words into your ear. “Ah love ye”.

From the side of the room, your seats had been taken by a tired brit and a grinning french girl, along with two identical men. All gazing at you and the fiery-red haired man. Until a voice came out from Arthur.

“Do you think he is going to tell her that this 'Scottish' was once called the 'German polka'?”