The Storm

Some Things Don't Stay Unheard

The nation's house was quiet, all except for the noise from the bedroom, another bad dream for the blond nation.

A knock sounded through the house, followed by a few more, but falling upon deaf ears of the nightmare induced Brit.
The knocks soon fell silent and the sound of the front door opening, a body of another nation entering the dark corridor of the house.

The newcomer strolled through the house, he's been here multiple time most of them unwelcome visits, like now.

The French nation strolled down the halls of the seemingly quiet house, looking for one person. When he passed the bedroom that normal was the Arthur's chambers, a nose of muffled sobs and whines drifted from the latched door.

This stopped him in his tracks, it was rare to hear those sounds from the younger nation, yes, he had to admit Arthur was a cry baby, but this was different.
When the sounds grew into more distress the Frenchman entered the room quickly, finding the Brit tangled in the bedsheets and thrashing around.

It took Francis a minute to get over the shock of seeing the once British empire in such away that it was pitiful. He quickly came to aide the nation, trying to wake him from whatever was tormenting his dearest England.

His dearest.

His attempts too wake him only made it seem worse for the the smaller of the two. The crys only grew to more distress. Arthur's crys didn't go unheard this time.

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