After the long, 8 hours of a flight from London, Arthur was completely exhausted. All he wanted to do in that moment was to just get to his house and instantly collapse onto the couch with a warm cup of Earl Grey tea. He quickly got out of the airport and rushed to get a taxi- well, cab as it is in America, and told the driver the address. The man had a few problems with understanding his British accent, but he understood after a few trial and errors and told him to hop on.
Driving through the streets of New York was the easy part. All he had to do was sit back and relax, but maybe keep an eye out for his house. But while doing so, he started admiring the scenery around him. The city was buzzing with people, and he couldn't blame them; it was quite a nice day to be out. The architecture was quite a bit different from London, so he was fascinated to look around. He felt himself slowly drift into a peaceful sleep, but got knocked back to his senses when the cab halted to a stop in front of his house-to-be.
"This is where you wanted to go, right?" The driver turned to face the Brit who nodded and got out of the yellow vehicle. He uttered a quick thank you and paid the man before turning around to look at his house.
The house was an average size, with cream colored walls and plants in the front garden, making it look welcoming. He had only seen it once, and that was on a his computer screen, so seeing it in person made it look even better. All in all, it kind of looked like his house back in England which made it feel more homely. After he was finished admiring the house's beauty, he walked to the tall chestnut colored door. He started fumbling around in his right pocket for the keys to the lovely house, but his pocket was empty. Arthur shook his head slightly, and checked the left side pocket in his coat. Still no sign of a key.
'I swear I kept them in my pocket,' he stated to himself, starting to worry.
He did a quick check through his trouser pockets, but still didn't find the metal object.
'Did I forget them in the cab?' He wondered, biting his lower lip out of anxiousness.
'Or did I forget them in the plane!?' The Brit really started to fret now. He checked his pockets again to make sure that the key isn't just hiding in a corner.
'Wait,' His heart stopped beating for a second.
'Did I forget it in England!?!' He thought frantically. He rummaged through his pockets again, then his bags but he couldn't find them. He cursed under his breath and started banging on the door.
"Please let someone be in here," he pleaded quietly. No one answered the door. He cursed again, and then slumped against the door. He sighed wearily, and stared out into the cerulean sky.
The pure white clouds slowly moved across the sky, the sun out and shining, not being hidden by clouds like common weather in his home town. There was a slight breeze as well, which made the heat even out.
'What a beautiful day to waste..... damn it!' Arthur thought and cursed his carelessness.
He assumed he looked like some kind of beggar, just sitting there in front of a house. It hurt his pride thinking of it like that, but he didn't bother moving. His mind was whirring with thoughts, from trying to think of a logical solution, even stuff like breaking the windows to get in. He only moved when his mind came across an idea to call someone, and then his face lit up and a wide smile formed on his face.
'Thank you so much, rational side of me!' He thanked and dug his phone out of his pocket. He then thanked the Gods that he hadn't forgot his phone; the only life line he had now. The Brit turned it on and immediately went in search of a number that he could rely on in this situation. After wisely thinking about it, Arthur decided to call his sister, Aoife. He decided that his brothers weren't the best choice, his mind imagining exactly how each of them would react.
He pictured the phone call with his Irish brother, Liam, who would laugh at his inattentiveness and lack of ability to even remember his house key. Then Arthur would instantly hang up on him, since he knows the call won't get him anywhere.
He then imagined his Welsh brother, Dylan, who would comfort him and tell him everything's gonna be fine, when he himself wouldn't be assured that everything will be alright. So he avoided calling that number too.
He then visualized his oldest brother, Allistor, who would scream his head off at him for forgetting his keys, and then would keep on reprimanding and shouting very colorful words at him. Anyone with a common sense would NEVER call the Scot if they were in trouble like this. But he has to admit, in bigger problems Allistor helps out a lot, but not in stuff like this.
So Arthur scrolled through his contacts and found Aoife's number, then pressed the 'call' button. He put the phone up to his ear and waited for his sister to answer.
Aoife was the most sensible in the five siblings, and the only girl as well. When their mom had died, Aoife decided to take over the mother role of the family and take care of her brothers. The others didn't like him much, but Aoife stood with him and cared for him like he was her own son. He figured the red-head would probably hear him out, and then find a solution for him.
The phone kept on ringing, and ringing. Arthur patiently waited for her to pick up. Soon enough his patience was wearing thin.
'Why isn't she answering? It's around 1 o' clock there!' He complained agitatedly.
'Great, this can't get any worse...' the Brit muttered. But of course, like in books and movies, the situation can get way worse. And since its Arthur we're talking about, the situation will get a lot worse.
His phone vibrated in his hand, and he brought it down from his ear to check what it was.
The notification read: Your phone is at 3%. The bad luck was only starting.
'Ugh, I just jinxed it! Well done Arthur, you're a genius!' He said to himself.
'How come bad luck always follows me!? Its not like my life is a story written by a crazed fangirl, who is currently typing this whole thing out with a creepy smile on her face, no, that's silly.'
Finally, the phone answered and Aoife's voice came through the other end.
"Arthur? Oh goodness, how was the flight! I've been worried sick!" She asked.
"Finally, you answered! Look sis, I don't have time to chit chat I-" Arthur was cut off by his phone dying.
The British teen resisted the urge to scream out loud, and slowly breathed to calm himself.
A while later a few drops of rain fell from the sky, and ended up into pouring rain. Arthur wondered how a perfectly sunny day was able to turn into this rainy mess, and he regarded the idea about the crazy fangirl again. But he soon dismissed that notion, and looked for shelter.
The only shelter close enough to the house was a big tree in the garden, and even that wasn't really good shelter from the rain, which was now gushing like a waterfall. Arthur moved in closer to the tree and hugged himself for warmth as he was cold and shivering without proper a refuge from the rain.
Fortunately the Gods decided they were done punishing him and stopped the rain after a while. But the rain had already done its toll on the blonde. He was trembling because of the cold, and couldn't even move from the slumped position that he was sitting in at under the tree.
The weather calmed down afterwards, grey clouds being replaced by white ones and the sun was out, drying up the water from the previous ordeal.
'How fast can the weather change around here!?!' Arthur wondered to himself, and got up. It looked like the rain had never even happened, the sun out and shining brightly.
Soon, a tax-cab drove up to the house Arthur was sat in front of. Fingers crossed, he started to beg for it to be the other cab coming back to give him his lost keys. But it was actually here with a person, and the Brit didn't know if that was a good thing or not.
"Merci, monsieur," a blonde teen stepped out of the ta-cab and thanked the driver in what he assumed was French, and flashed the driver a charming smile, then handed him some money. He then made his way up to the house that Arthur was slumped against.
"Excusez-moi, but.... why are you sitting here in front of my house?" The blonde asked with a slightly obvious French accent. The other blonde huffed. He hated French frogs.
"And why exactly are you coming towards my house?!" The other blonde ordered to know. The seemingly French guy started chuckling, elegantly moving away a piece of hair that was falling in front of his face, and then said,"you must be my new roommate. Arthur, was it?" He asked with a friendly smile.
"Yeah," Arthur mumbled an answer.
"Francis. Nice to meet you," the French teen extended his hand to the Brit.
Arthur was a gentleman, and he knew it would be impolite not to shake someone's hand, so he reluctantly shook Francis's hand.
"Although I never knew that you liked to sit outside the house rather than in," he kept in a chuckle while he said that. Arthur glared at him.
"Well, at least that makes more space for moi, inside," he smirked. Arthur huffed and glared at him again. If looks could kill, the French teen would be long dead by now.
"I'm not sitting out here forever!" He stated, hatred visible in his chartreuse-green eyes."I just... forgot my keys.... that's all..." He admitted silently and lowered his head to hide the blush which was now evident on his cheeks. The Frenchman smiled, but said nothing.
"Well, can you open the door already?" Arthur ordered. "Ah, of course, if you could just move out of the way, mon ami," the blonde told him. Arthur quickly shot up off the ground, dusted himself off and looked away from the French man. The other smiled at his behavior, got his key out and twisted it around in the keyhole to open the door.
'Finally!' Arthur thought to himself with a wide smile, as the door swung open. He was so glad to finally get into his house, after waiting hours on end miserably. He hauled his luggage inside, leaving the other teen staring at him from the entrance. The British teen checked around to find the best bed room and then claim it first. Sadly, both were the same size. So he just picked the one which had the huge bookshelf.
He arranged his stuff inside his bedroom, sorting out a plethora of books onto an almost empty bookshelf and clothes into the wardrobe. After emptying up his bags, he decided to change out of his wet clothing. After changing, he yawned widely and flopped onto his bed. He then decided to check around his new house, and then make his well deserved cup of tea and relax on the couch. He started of with the kitchen was an average sized kitchen, with a dining table included, but the living room was quite spacious. It was a simple bungalow, everything including the kitchen, living room, bathrooms and bedrooms on one level.
After finding making some tea with the tea bags that he had found in the cupboards, (it wasn't Earl Grey, but it will have to do)Arthur plopped onto the couch and sighed. He was finally content. He slowly sipped the steaming tea, and made a mental note to buy some more tea. He turned the TV on and scrolled through the channels. His roommate was in the kitchen, probably cooking something but the Brit couldn't careless. He didn't care if he was sharing a house with someone, as long as they didn't interrupt him in his daily life. But he had a feeling that this French guy, who's name he had forgotten, would be a real pain in the butt. He was French, after all. Arthur stopped switching through the channels as there was nothing that was to his liking. So he got a book and decided to read instead.
A while later, a gorgeous aroma of food wafted through the air, and Arthur was tempted to go to the kitchen and find out what it was. It wasn't everyday that the Kirklands got to eat tasty, non burnt food. As a matter of fact, no one in the Kirkland family line can make a decent bowl of cereal without burning it. Except for his sister, that is. Heaven knows why she's the only one who got good cooking in the family, but no one complains. It was a good thing anyway, as they didn't have neither a father or a mother anymore.
Arthur turned his attention back to his book and continued reading. But then he realized how ravenous he was.
'No, don't think like that, its probably French food,' he told himself and tried focusing back on the book he was reading. He was stuck on the same sentence for a while now, and he couldn't understand it at all, even though he read the same sentence like fifty times already. Arthur slammed the book shut and got up. It was 8 o'clock on the first night of moving in and Arthur was already fed up of his roommate. He stormed into the kitchen and found his roommate setting up the dining table.
"Oh, there you are, monsieur Arthur!" the French teen who's name he didn't remember exclaimed with a pleasing smile.
"What are you doing?" the British teen questioned, thick eyebrows furrowed.
"I'm making dinner, of course!" he said and smiled brightly at him. The Frenchman laid a few plates onto the table and arranged some stuff around.
"Bon appétit!" he said happily and gestured to Arthur to sit down. The British blonde didn't want to sit down, but the French blonde pushed him down onto the chair.
"You know this isn't nece-" he was interrupted by the French teen.
"I know, but we're roommates and we barely know each other! And you need a taste of the délicieux French cuisine! Since you look like you haven't eaten a good meal once in your life before." He argued.
"Excuse you, I have eaten plenty of great food before!" Arthur stated and crossed his arms over his chest.
"Really, now I doubt that. But anyway, I made it for you so you have to eat it!" Said the French blonde.
The Brit looked away from the food. Arthur didn't want to admit it, but the food looked stunning. And the layout made everything look even more fabulous. The dishes were lined out one by one, and a few small candles aligned them. In the middle of the table was a vase with a single, fully bloomed, blood red rose in it. The lighting was dim, giving the kitchen a romantic feel, which Arthur didn't like one bit.
"Well? Aren't you going to eat?" The Frenchman asked. Arthur didn't answer, just stared at his lap.
"Or do you want me to feed you?" He asked and picked up a spoon, a smirk appearing on his face. Instantly, Arthur's face turned a deep shade of scarlet.
"I can eat fine by myself!" The Brit shot back and picked up a fork. He picked up some of the food trying to look reluctant, but he was actually excited to taste it. He put it into his mouth and savored it. His eyes widened at the delicious taste. The British blonde tried to mask his surprise but failed miserably.
"Do you like it?" The blonde questioned.
"Its..... not bad..." Arthur told him, but was far off from the truth. The French teen smiled at him knowingly.
"Eat as much as you'd like then," the blonde told him and sat down opposite the Brit and rested his chin on his hands, watching the other teen.
After eating the food the French had prepared, Arthur thanked him and insisted that it was time to go to bed. But the French teen had other ideas.
"We need to know each other better!" he pleaded for Arthur to stay. "Okay then, you first," Arthur said with a bored tone.
"Well, my name's Francis Bonnefoy, and as you probably guessed I'm from France," he introduced himself with a bright smile.
"I love to draw, paint and cook!" He finished off.
"Your turn to introduce yourself," Francis said. Arthur sighed.
"My name's Arthur Kirkland.... and I'm from England..." He said in a monotone voice, really not bothered to act more enthusiastic.
"Anything else?" Francis asked, and Arthur just wanted to get up and go to his bedroom.
"Look, I'm tired and its 10 o'clock," he said pointing to the nearby clock in the room.
"So..." Arthur started and got up. "But mon ami, you're gonna miss the main event if you leave now!" he shouted, making the Brit stop. Arthur looked at him curiously as he left to probably get something. When he came back he had a wine bottle in his hand.
"Would you like some wine, mon cher?" he asked seductively, trying to make the Brit to agree.
Arthur didn't want to have a drink right now, so he tried to excuse himself out of it. He had a lot of stuff to do in the morning anyway, as the day after was the first day of his new highschool. So drinking would only give him a massive hangover, especially since Arthur gets drunk easily.
"Um, I'm sorry but I can't, maybe some other day," Arthur said and was about to leave when Francis stopped him again. The Frenchman pouted.
"S'il vous plaît? Just one glass? Please?" he pleaded with puppy dog eyes. He looked away and shook his head, refusing his offer.
"Is the angry little Englishman a scaredy cat? Can't he even drink one glass of wine?" Francis taunted, which made the Brit angry.
"I can drink that whole bottle if I want!" Arthur shot up out of his chair and shouted, offended by the statement.
"Show me," The French teen told him, held the bottle out for him to take, and had a small challenging smirk. Arthur smirked back, as if it was the easiest thing in the world.
"I will!" He answered back with a determined look in his eyes.
The blonde forcefully grabbed the bottle out of Francis's hand, opened it and put it to his lips. He took a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut. Then quickly gulped down the whole bottle of crimson liquid, and slapped it down onto the table.
"See... I can.... I-hic-I drank... the whole bottle-hic-didn't I? Shows... you-hic-right!" Arthur slurred. Francis looked at him worriedly, trying to keep him upright.
"Wow, I didn't expect you to drink the whole thing. You should sit dow-"
"No way! I-hic-am Great... Britain, I don't-hic-need.. to..... TO SIT DOWN!" He shouted at the end, and nearly fell over.
The French teen watched as the other teen climbed onto the dining table and proclaimed out loud that he's The Great Kingdom of Britain, who conquered most of the world, and stumbled around.
"Arthur, come down here!" Francis shouted trying his best to bring him down.
"You do not order me around!" The Brit shouted at him and pranced ungracefully on the table. He could barely see where he was going and he couldn't focus on what he was doing either.
"YOU'LL FALL!" The French blonde screamed. The Brit ignored him and leaped around like a ballet dancer.
"No I-hic-wont!" Arthur stated angrily, how long was this bloody frog going to order him around!? He should be the one ordering him around! No one shouts at Great Britain! He twirled around over and over again while laughing like a mad man, and saw that the world was blending together making everything very confusing. The world around him turned darker and darker, and his eyes started to feel heavier with every blink. His laughing died down and he held his aching head.
He could hear Francis shouting something in the background, but he couldn't hear it properly. His head was throbbing with immense pain, and he couldn't stay awake any longer. And soon enough, everything dispersed into darkness and Arthur fell right off the table.
Yay, my first FrUk fanfic!!! I've been seriously obsessed with Hetalia lately, so if I don't update this soon, I'm just watching my favorite anime ever! But I will try to update, I promise you that!
I decided to keep Allistor as Scotland and Dylan as Wales, but I didn't really like Charlotte for Northern Ireland or Aaron for Ireland so I decided to call North Aoife and Ireland Liam. Sorry if anyone doesn't like that...
Hope you liked this chapter, and thank you so much for reading my story!!! :D Please tell me what you thought about it, and help me make it better! This is actually my second time writing this story out, since I thought the first one wasn't good enough. I love constructive criticism, so feel free to tell me what you thought!
Update from future me, I am terribly sorry for making America out to be some kind of European country, by that I mean the house I shoved them into and other facts that don't line up. I'm an innocent European that has never been to good old 'Murica so please proceed with caution and try to ignore the small anomalies? Thank you.
Until next time!
Peace~