Francis was always very talented when it came to cooking. He was so good, not to brag, that he managed to snag a position working in the kitchen on weekends for the students who didn't have the money to go out and eat. He quiet enjoyed the job, especially the perks that went with it. Like being able to go into the kitchen later in the evening to cook to his heart's content, and allowing his friends to join him if they clean up after late night snacking. And that's where he found himself now, standing over the stove and stirring a pot of beef stew. He figured he'd surprise Arthur with a bowl, and maybe Antonio and Gilbert, if they were lucky. And, really, he just wanted to cook. It was always his way of escaping reality, letting his thoughts swirl around his head in a safe, quiet environment. The Frenchman absolutely loved it.