The Countries: One-Shot Collection

One Day In Paris (FrUK)

Every country had days they would like to forget in their long lifespans. It was only natural to have some regrets, or some mourning. It was a common courtesy to other nations to leave the hurting country alone on those certain days. A silent rule it was, and it was usually followed. Even by people like Arthur and Francis-- the usually warring countries of England and France.

The most famous day to leave the Englishman alone was on the fourth. Francis sometimes tried to accompany him and cheer him up, but he was shut out in a screaming fit. He really was one of the last people Arthur wanted to see on that day, second only to Alfred.

Of course, there were days that were less famous to other countries; especially isolated ones who didn’t pay much attention. This was true when it came to the same two countries aforementioned.

The day was July fourteenth. There was an upcoming World Meeting that took place in France, so the countries had started arriving early. Arthur was one of these people, having especially wanting to come early to buy some supplies for some more of his spells that were native to the country.

While he was out getting these supplies, he spotted Francis. He was away from the crowd of the markets, staring up at the sky, in one particular area beside a few old looking buildings. He looked completely out of it, not even noticing when a few girls tried to call to get his attention. That wasn’t like him at all.

Finishing his purchase, he started walking over to the Frenchman. “Hey, frog!” Arthur shouted. He was expecting to have to shout a few more times and maybe even get the chance to slap Francis before he said a word, but he looked his way the first time he said something.

“What’re you doing out here staring up at the sky like a moping bastard?”

Arthur was expecting a good retort, and could almost see in his head how their insults would play out. Francis would call him out for going shopping like this, Arthur would complain about the market, Francis would mention that he came here of his own leisure, and early at that. Then Arthur would shout at how much he hated Francis.

Instead, he got, “Thinking.”

“You? Thinking? Dear god, someone stop the fiend.”

Francis made no reply this time, his gaze returning to the sky.

Arthur wouldn’t admit it, but the fact that Francis wasn’t yelling at him in return actually worried him. He couldn’t think of what could have been causing this behavior, and he’d been acting the exact same way that he always had. Was he starting to get tired of their fighting?

Forcing his thoughts down, Arthur scoffed and turned on his heel. “Fine. I have to get back, anyway.” Throwing up his hand and adding his daily, “I hate you, frog.” He heard a few words muttered under the Frenchman's breath that he swore made his heart stop:

“I do too.”

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Arthur had went home and spent the rest of that day wondering what the hell was wrong with Francis. For the life of him, he couldn’t think of something. He could have researched it and have been done with it, but he didn’t. Mainly because it was just too irritating to try and figure out any other way than to dig through the files of his memory. He felt like he should know it, so why didn’t he?

He’d made a plan to ask Francis what had been wrong at the next World Meeting, but that was still a few days away. He couldn’t sleep, either, no matter which way he turned in his bed. Why it bugged him so much or why he cared, he refused to try and solidify in his head. The frog was just confusing, and he didn’t want to think too much into it.