For a person who adores peace and quiet, Arthur was now realising how deafening silence could be.
Usually, Francis would be the one to initiate a conversation since whenever Arthur tries to, it ends up going nowhere.
However they were half way to school and Francis hadn't uttered a word since they'd woken up. And he was acting odd, like he knew he was being stalked by a hitman. It was rather worrying and Arthur had to admit he was alerted by his strange behaviour.
"You haven't opened your big mouth yet, has the cat got your tongue?" He remarked, it came out much more insulting than he hoped it would, shit. Hopefully Francis wouldn't pay it much notice.
The other blond's head jerked up suddenly, as if he was deep in thought before he was interrupted.
"Oh sorry, I was just... Thinking."
"About what?" Arthur enquired.
"Nothing much really," Francis said, shaking his head to rid himself of his thoughts.
"I doubt that. You know, you've been acting very odd today. You've been silent since you woke up, staring at me every once in a while with this depressing look on your face, and holding my hand whenever we get to a road like I'm some helpless five year old! What's up with you?"
"Ah well I... I had a nightmare, that's all. It's fine."
Arthur narrowed his eyes and leaned in closer to assess him.
"It's obviously not fine if you're still thinking about it. And that doesn't explain your protective behaviour. Tell me, it might help." Arthur demanded.
"I've already forgotten about it, don't worry!" The French blond assured.
"That's a lie if I've ever heard one! Now tell. Me."
Francis knew he was genuinely worried and that it took a lot of strength to offer help so he decided to free him from his misery. He did want to get it off his chest, even if it wasn't the whole story.
"Well... I was back in France in what seemed like the eighteenth century and I... did something bad and... was hung for it. And I guess I'm sheltering you because I'm cautious of death today."
"What did you do?" The Brit asked inquisitively.
"My memory's fuzzy, I don't remember," Francis replied with a nervous laugh, in a hurry to end the conversation before his facade crumbled.
"Seriously, that's what you're so bothered about? I'll let you in on a secret, people don't casually hang other people for crimes in this day and age. And I can take care of myself just fine, thank you. Now would you take your own advice and cheer up a little?"
Francis laughed at his answer, satisfying the Brit who rejoiced that he was finally back to his typical self.
Though, deep down, his nightmare was still haunting him. Truth was, he didn't forget the details, he remembered the whole series of events as clear as day.
He wouldn't be so unsettled if him dying was the only aspect of his nightmare, but it was from from it. He could never tell the Brit, it would be cruel to add to his worries when he was clearly tense about seeing Joan again.
At first it was a wonderful dream. He was back in his lovely Paris, well, his dream self was there. It wasn't a lucid dream and he had no control over anything, it was more like he was watching a movie of himself from a third person perspective. It was eerily familiar, and that was unsettling.
The skies were clear and free from pollution, as the industrial revolution hadn't rolled by just yet. It was also evident in the awfully paved roads and horse drawn carriages. But he knew that it was still his beautiful Paris.
Dream Francis seemed to be of some noble status and similarly enough, the lord and lady of the manor were his parents. Though a chilling detail was that Arthur was present in his dream too.
A peasant from London, or so he claimed, he moved to France for an ambiguous reason he couldn't get out of the boy and was hired as a servant in his manor.
While the other servants did exactly as their masters requested, not stepping even slightly out of line, Arthur loved to show his disapproval and disagree with the things he thought unfair. This was extremely odd for a peasant so Francis often questioned if he was of an ex-noble status.
Arthur and Francis were like chalk and cheese. He was the only one Arthur wouldn't treat with respect and refer to as he should have. It was a surprise he wasn't banished from the manor already due to his mouth, but he was hardworking and got the job done before anyone else, which kept him employed.
It was no surprise to him when he watched his dream self fall more and more in love with the defiant servant boy as he did in real life.
Arthur was against it at first, complaining how it was wrong and that they'd both be punished if someone found out about what he was up to but just like in real life, dream Arthur soon fell for him too.
They continued their secret relationship for a while, while it wasn't ideal to have to pretend in public and be scared that they were going to be found out, it was good enough to be beside each other even if it was for five minutes.
This went on for a while before the inevitable doom arose. As every tragedy goes, their happiness was short lived.
Their relationship had barely reached five months when they were found out. The lady of the house unusually walked into Francis' room and what she witnessed then, was the start of immense despair for the couple.
They weren't even doing anything incriminating, they were merely laying on the bed together but that was enough to be found guilty. A servant laying next to a noble was bad enough, but two males? Were they insane?!
Francis' mother rushed out to call his father while the discovered couple embraced and cried as they knew they were now doomed, they knew this would be the last time they would be able to touch each other. Too bad only the worst was in store for the star crossed lovers.
His parents came back, along with some guards and forcefully seperated the pair, leaving Francis in his room while they dragged Arthur away from him. As much as both of them struggled, it was to no avail.
When Francis said he was hung, he wasn't completely lying. He was hung, but by his own hands. The one who was hung by cruel humans was the poor English boy he so dearly loved.
His parents couldn't possibly tarnish their name by letting this affair get out and were determined to see an end to this 'vile' relationship and made sure correct measures were taken. They wouldn't keep the peasant who seduced their boy alive.
They claimed the Brit had stole copious amounts of money from the manor multiple times, and attempted to kill the lord once to get him a severe enough punishment. With a little bit of coaxing the authorities, they agreed to give him the death penalty.
Francis wasn't allowed to even see his lover until a week later, but it wasn't a joyous occasion.
His lover looked sickly pale, paler than he'd ever seen him. His arms were littered with bruises and cuts that certainly weren't there before. He looked exhausted and weak, not to mention his previously lively chartreuse green eyes were now a dull greyish green. Francis knew they wouldn't have treated him properly, but when he saw the feeble state Arthur was in, his fists curled and his blood boiled out of rage. He felt an overwhelming urge to grab the English boy's hand and run away from this horrid life. But all both Francis' could do was watch.
The Frenchman's eyes didn't move away from Arthur's ones. Even when the noose was placed around his neck, even when the horrid device restricted him from reaching for breath, even when his face started losing the colour a normal human should have. Arthur saw Francis mouth "je t'aime" but he didn't have the energy to mouth it back. Then, all his motions stopped and his head rolled to one side, eyes devoid of life like his body.
He wanted to scream so bad, both real Francis and dream Francis but neither could open their mouths. All they could do was gape as people cheered at the untimely death of a poor man who did nothing wrong except love.
Francis on the other hand, should have lost his noble title because of his little 'mishap' but his parents didn't want that to happen and decided to send him to be corrected to the 'proper way of life'. He determined that he wouldn't bow down to their desires. The same evening that his beloved had been killed, he allowed death to take him, whether to hell or heaven he didn't know. If loving Arthur damned him to hell as the people around him said, then he'd be more than willing to face the flames.
Francis watched as dream Francis suffered the same fate dream Arthur did, except he wasn't presented like entertainment to an audience that jeered him even as he took his last breath. That hurt him the most.
He died in the hopes that he'll be reunited with his beloved, wherever that may be.
And that's when Francis woke up in a sweat, his head snapping to his side quickly to make sure Arthur was beside him. And indeed he was, sleeping soundly with no damage done to him.
He heaved a sigh and wondered what caused him to have such an odd dream. Was it his fears talking? To say he wasn't scared of his parents would be a lie, he wouldn't put it past them to appear at his doorstep at any moment and if they- no, no negative thoughts. Was it a memory from a past life that he somehow remembered? No, that was silly.
Was it a warning, was something catastrophic going to happen in five months?
"You're thinking about it again, aren't you?" Arthur's voice knocked him out of his thoughts once more and he looked to the blond to see the unimpressed expression on his face.
"Hmm?"
"We were talking when you suddenly shut down and got lost in thought again."
"Oh um... What are we talking about?" Francis queried, gaining back his cheery exterior but Arthur stayed annoyed.
"What's the use, we're here already." Arthur stated angrily, storming off past the gates and leaving his boyfriend behind.
Ah great, now Arthur was annoyed with him. He didn't want to tell him about his nightmare because he didn't want to unnerve him further, but now he seemed to be equally as mad because he kept it to himself.
Oh well, maybe when Joan is added to the mix he'll direct his anger towards her instead. It was a horrible thought, but he couldn't help it. He didn't want the Briton to be mad at him, not after that gruesome nightmare he had. He was determined to make sure nothing happened to his love, even if the sacrifice was his life.
Hopefully Joan would be present at the first class, maybe he could fix the rivalry between them first thing in the morning and can have a stress free day in school for once.
Too bad fate didn't feel like appeasing him. The bell for class rang and the seat beside him was still lacking its usual occupant.
Arthur definitely noticed that Joan wasn't present, and he seemed rather chuffed about it, which wasn't surprising.
But that was certainly odd, she had texted him the day before and she hadn't mentioned that she wasn't going to be in... Perhaps she was late?
"Let me guess, you're now worrying about where Joan is." Arthur snapped him out of his trance for the third time that morning and he didn't look too happy about it.
"Well, it isn't like her to be absent."
"So what? Even perfect students have to miss a day at some point, she probably got sick or something. Now stop acting so sullen would you?"
Francis didn't try to argue further, he knew the Brit was irritated by the conversation and he didn't want to make him feel worse.
The first half of the day flew by for Arthur, who was thrilled that Joan wasn't there. She was only present for a week yet he almost forgot how peaceful class was when she wasn't there.
The day just couldn't get any worse for Francis. From having a nightmare that basically screamed 'your relationship is doomed, son', to one of his good friends disappearing without warning?
Not only that but Arthur looked happy... Too happy, judging from the small smile that was ever present on his face. He didn't kill her, did he?
Damn, he needed to get a hold of himself before his mind started coming up with even wackier things.
Arthur was leaning against his locker, whining impatiently as he waited for Francis to finish gathering his shit together, and he was taking his sweet time! He was obviously lost in thought, yet again, but he gave up on trying to snap him out of it since he'd go straight back to it a minute afterwards.
He was aimlessly looking around when he spotted the girl of his nightmares heading that way, with her stupid froggy smile and her stupid froggy wave once they made eye contact.
He didn't know why he did it, he knew either way Joan wouldn't just leave without talking to Francis and that they'd have to seperate at some point, not to mention he didn't need to show her he was his since she was probably updated by Francis but...
Arthur's limbs moved on their own accord, his brain couldn't even catch up to what he was doing till he'd slammed his boyfriend against the lockers and was kissing him.
Francis remained dazed for half a second, where did the Englishman gain so much courage from? First the kiss at the party now this, in front of even more people?
More importantly, why was he kissing him out of the blue? There was always a reason when it came to Arthur.
He could tell from the array of scandalised gasps around them that people were watching. They must be surprised by the pair that threatened to disrupt the peace at the lockers every day were actually a thing now. With this little stunt of his, it would only be a matter of time before news of their relationship spread everywhere.
And god, was Arthur an awful kisser when he wasn't drunk! That was another thing he had yet to learn, if he was going to kiss him he shouldn't stand an ocean's distance away from him and should actually open his mouth, neither of which he was doing. It must have looked very awkward to the astounded bystanders. It definitely felt awkward.
For the first time ever, probably, Francis broke the kiss wholeheartedly and pushed him away gently.
"There was something behind that kiss wasn't there? Care to tell me?"
"What do you mean! That wasn't... I didn't... Um!" There it was, the flushed face and embarrassment.
He was right, there was something behind that kiss, literally. The French blond peered over to see the missing Joan enthusiastically watching them and realised exactly what his drive was.
He quickly scanned the area to see if people were still gawking but they were back to normal, as if nothing happened. They were used to seeing sudden kisses against lockers, random kisses in the middle of a hallway, kisses against the teacher's desk and even the janitor's closet being occupied by people other than the janitor. Highschool was filled with animals in heat, after all.
"That was quite a show, I have to say it was quite entertaining," the dirty blond girl said, covering her mouth with her hand to hide her giggle.
"Joan! You're actually here! Where were you?" Francis exclaimed, almost pushing past Arthur to face the female, it didn't even need to be stated that the Briton was mad.
"I told you about how I visited New Orleans during the break, right? We were supposed to be back yesterday evening but something came up and so we only set off last night. I didn't know this was going to happen and I forgot to text you about it, sorry." She explained.
"You don't have to say sorry, you couldn't have arrived at a better time actually. It's break so how about we eat first and then we can er... Sort this out?" He proposed, looking between the pair with a smile.
Joan nodded, happy to comply while Arthur groaned and uttered a small "whatever" under his breath. He then firmly gripped Francis' hand and rushed to the cafeteria, not waiting for the teal-eyed girl to start a conversation with the French male and hog him till they got there.
Their usual table looked quite empty, Gilbert and Matthew were missing... For some odd reason... But that meant more space for them so the trio of blonds sat down.
Arthur contemplated sitting in the middle so that Joan wouldn't be beside his boyfriend but then he realised he didn't want to be the piggy in the middle while the French pair croaked over him and so, he sat to one side and let Francis be the bridge separating Joan and Arthur.
He didn't know if he regretted it when the French pair started yapping away like he didn't exist. As they did the whole first week of Joan's appearance, he remembered with a sigh.
His only comfort was that they were yapping away in English, at least Francis kept his promise to him. Though English or not, he was still talking solely with her and that was unacceptable.
At the start he tried all sorts of ways to distract Francis from Joan, ranging from cuddling into his side to stomping on his foot violently. Other than using a second of his time to cast him a sweet smile or a glare in the latter case, Arthur's attempts beared no fruit.
He was starting to believe the little skit they performed wasn't purely fictitious after all. The more time it occupied his thoughts, the more irritated he got and he sought to hide his clenched fists in his lap.
Why was he so bothered by this anyway? The situation wasn't like it was two weeks before. This time, Francis was his, not Joan's. He wasn't the third wheel, she was!
Then why did he feel so challenged by her presence, why did he still feel the need to tell her to back off? Why did he feel like he was the third wheel after all?
"I didn't take you for a hypocrite, mon chéri. Getting lost in thought yourself and telling me off when I do. Shame on you," Francis teased, flicking his cheek playfully. For the first time that day, their roles were reversed, he must have felt mighty proud of himself.
"Why haven't you touched your food yet!" He continued when he saw how his cutlery lay abandoned and his lunch looked exactly how it was at the start.
"Wasn't hungry," Arthur retorted curtly. He didn't bother looking up at him, he knew Joan must be looking his way and he definitely didn't want to make eye contact with her.
Suddenly, Francis' mind had a flashback of his nightmare, specifically of how sick and fragile Arthur looked, like he hadn't had a proper meal in days- no, no negative thoughts! It was just a dream!
"Oh I see what you were up to, you should have just asked me if you wanted me to feed you! Here," Francis proclaimed, bringing a piece of his food up to his mouth before-
Arthur blocked his hand and looked dead seriously into his eyes.
Antonio and Lovino, who were sitting in front of them, suddenly quieted to observe the drama unraveling before them.
"If you two are done chit-chatting, could we just get onto the topic at hand?" The English male questioned, making Francis' eyes dim of its previous twinkle but he nodded in agreement.
"How about we go outside then? It's way too noisy in here." The French teen suggested. Joan hummed in agreement, but her face was stained with worry for the Brit who was glaring at the floor like he dared it to set alight.
Francis locked eyes with Antonio who had been staring at them for a while now. The Spaniard's eyebrows were creased in concern, his lips pulled into a thin line but his forest green eyes spoke encouragement. Francis smiled at his silent good luck, he knew he'd need it. Then the trio headed outside.
"Perhaps I should start by clarifying that everything that happened two weeks ago was a premeditated part of our plan and Joan can testify for that. Right Joan?"
The female nodded merrily, her floral headpiece bobbing along with her like a mermaid underwater.
Francis turned to look at Arthur to see his reaction but he avoided his eyes and found more pleasure in staring at the gravel. He continued to talk to him nonetheless.
"Now I know you aren't on the best terms with Joan, and it's only understandable considering what light you saw her in before. But I don't want my boyfriend and my good friend to continue not getting along so that is why we're here to settle this once and for all." Francis continued.
"So I was thinking maybe you two could talk it out first, and then Arthur and I could talk?" The oldest teen offered, to which there were no objections.
"Alright then! You guys talk first, I'll be over here, and please don't kill each other?" Arthur knew that was directed towards him even though he had his head down and couldn't see if he was looking at him.
He recalled the times when Francis had left them alone to talk, both times went horribly wrong and he doubted this one would be any better.
"As Francis said before, I completely understand if you hate me and I don't expect us to magically become friends after this talk, but it would be nice if there was no tension between us at least." Joan said after a brief awkward silence.
That was reasonable enough, so Arthur nodded succinctly.
"I'm sure you must be bursting with questions so feel free to ask anything and I'll try answer the best way I can!"
"Why." He blurted out as soon as she put up her offer.
"Excuse me?"
"Why did you bother with this? Francis was a stranger at the time yet you agreed to help him. Why?"
"I don't usually get involved in love but ironically enough I have a keen eye in such matters, I can tell when a person is attracted to another, no matter how secretive they are about it. I noticed how annoyed you looked once Francis left your side the first day I arrived and it was so obvious to me that you liked him that I almost wanted to set up a plan to get you two together myself. So when Francis came to me after the first class with just that, I couldn't resist! And I have to say I'm proud of my decision, even if you're mad at me because of it, I don't mind because I can just sense you two are destined to be together in this life and beyond and it makes me happy that I helped a pair gain happiness."
Arthur's lips held no response even though his mind was overflowing with thoughts. He tried ignoring her cheesy remark about them being destined to be together and focused on his interrogation.
"What did you gain? Did he promise you anything? I don't believe you purely did it out of charity."
"No no, he didn't promise me anything."
"Nothing? You went through all that hassle for nothing?!" Arthur questioned, astounded.
"I can't say it was for nothing because... It was an excuse for me to act! God, do I adore acting! I'm actually so excited for the the end of year school play this year I-" she halted her ramble once she saw the stunned look on the Briton's face.
"Sorry, I got carried away, where was I?... Oh, right! Well, I guess another reason of mine was that I wanted a friend. I know, it's silly, but when you're new to a school and everyone already has their cliques it's hard to fit in. So when Francis came to me with this plan of his, I saw it as an opportunity to get closer to him and make a friend. Though it seems in the process I also made an enemy," she chuckled to herself and looked to Arthur, who didn't seem impressed.
"He did offer payment for my services, heh, that sounds funny, but I denied. It was good enough since I had my perks and the satisfaction of knowing I helped you get together."
Was he still talking to Joan? God, she sounded like a totally different person! Before, he considered her to be a wolf in sheep's clothing, acting all sweet and innocent on the outside when actually she was a cunning wolf who would do anything for the object of her desires.
Now, she seemed like a mature and sensible young woman who had yet to completely abandon her childishness, judging from the hyper way she talked.
He wouldn't dare admit all that he was thinking. If she was anything like Francis, which he guessed she was since she was French, he guessed she'd flaunt it for the rest of her life.
"If you don't mind, can I ask you a question?" She asked with smile.
"Sure?" He said, he wondered what Joan was so curious about.
"Are you satisfied?" She questioned, the merry aura she maintained till two seconds ago dissipating to reveal her serious side.
"What do you mean?" He retorted back warily. He didn't like her sudden change in attitude at all.
"Sorry, that was phrased poorly, I meant are you satisfied with your relationship? Do you love him?"
Arthur wasn't too fond of her line of inquiry, why was she asking this now? Did she secretly like him after all and was planning on getting under his skin in order to seperate them so she can swoop in and take him for herse-
"Arthur, you don't have to tire your mind out thinking about all that, I assure you I don't have any feelings for him. What about you?" She uttered, startling the Brit who was convinced she was psychic from how easily she read his mind. What he didn't realise was how his thoughts were showing on the outside, he suddenly zoned out and drilled his eyes into the ground as if it personally did him harm.
He quickly shook his head in the hopes of shaking off his anxiety, he couldn't be so anxious because of Joan of all people!
"I wouldn't be dating him if I didn't." He remarked with a snort. That was such a stupid question, wasn't the answer obvious?
Her gaze darkened which made him realise she wasn't horsing around, and she wasn't in the humour for sarcastic answers.
"Ha, if all relationships were that easy wouldn't the world be so wonderful?" She retaliated right back, with a bitterly sweet grin.
"What are you insinuating? That I'm lying?!" He demanded, suddenly growing defensive and finding it hard to not lash out at her.
"I never said anything about you lying. Look, I know for certain that Francis loves you. Even when we're having a conversation, he never fails to mention you at least ten times, it's really sweet to see honestly. I wouldn't even be surprised if he does a whole essay on the subject of you for English. You should see the way his eyes light up when he rambles on about you, it's kinda like me with acting and judging from people's reactions to me talking about acting I must look obsessed, but not saying Francis is obsessed it's more like he deeply cares for you- anyway! What I'm saying is that he loves you so much and I want to make sure you reciprocate those feelings since Francis shouldn't have to waste his time longing after someone who doesn't love him back." She finished her big speech and inhaled sharply to get her breath back.
He wanted to object, to tell her that he did love him and that he would never betray him like that but all that came out of his mouth was a pathetic "I..!"
"See, this is what I mean. If you truly do love him, why don't you just say it? Why is it so hard for you to say how you feel?" She taunted. She didn't mean to shout at him so roughly, she really just wanted to scare him a bit but from the way Arthur fell silent she guessed it was a bit over the top.
'I do love him! I love him from his hair that manages to remain perfect through any situation, to his toes that he seldom paints nude when he's bored, being a typical frog. I love how he habitually ties his hair back before cooking and how he hums to himself like some Disney princess while doing so, it's a wonder animals don't show up at the windowsill. I love how he absently doodles on his copies and denies it being any good even though they're the complete opposite. I love how he runs his hands through my hair at every chance he gets, yet complains about it being knotty. I love how safe and warm I feel when I'm in his arms and I-!'
Arthur's breath hitched in his throat, so many thoughts flooded his mind but none were able to escape. He was slowly realising how deep Francis had carved into his heart and settled there, it was almost frightening to think about how wrong Joan was about his feelings towards Francis and how he truly enjoyed his company.
The French female noticed his inner epiphany and didn't continue pestering him, instead she remained silent for him to say something.
"I... I love him. So much." He muttered once he finally gained his voice back. He fretted it wouldn't be enough to satisfy the girl but to his immense joy she smiled and nodded.
"I know, don't worry. I'm sorry for doubting you but I had to make sure. Sometimes it's hard to know what you're really thinking behind that quarrelsome disguise of yours but I think Francis has already mastered deciphering you." A soft giggle escaped her mouth at her own comment.
"A piece of advice, try to express your feelings more often. It might be hard but I promise you, it will come in handy and will do wonders further down in your relationship."
"I'll keep it in mind." He answered casually. Even if it seemed like his reply was meaningless he actually took her words to heart. She should consider herself lucky that he listened to her.
Joan beamed, she was delighted that Arthur wasn't glaring irritatedly at her, hopefully it would stay that way.
"That would be perfect, and besides, Francis looks very eager to rejoin you so I'll take my leave. I doubt I'll be of any more use so I'll go back inside, you guys take your time." She said, her bright smile still on her face before she headed inside.
He was tempted to pinch himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming, all his thoughts on Joan's character was suddenly invalid and he didn't know what to think. Did he still hate her? Or did she earn his trust? Was this also just an act of hers, to make him believe she's innocent before she steals Francis from him? God, he didn't know.
"Well? How was it?" Francis' silky smooth voice reached his ears as a sneaky hand of his coiled around his waist and pulled him closer.
Arthur plucked his hand off and shoved it away, signaling that he didn't want to be touched but the hand didn't cop on to that and returned to its original spot seconds later. This time, the Briton didn't bother pushing him away.
"I don't know what you wanted to gain when you planned this but if it was to get me to consider Joan as a friend, you didn't succeed." He retorted, jabbing his finger into his chest harshly.
"No, not exactly. All I wanted was to clear up the misunderstanding between you and for you to see her the way she actually is. So what do you say, do you think she's different from what you thought?"
"I guess... She's not as evil as I thought she was."
"Great, that's all I wanted to hear!" He exclaimed, grinning wildly.
Arthur's lips lowered into a frown and he shot him a menacing look out of the corner of his eye.
"Though a piece of advice, it's not polite to focus your attention wholly on one person while you're talking to two." he complained, crossing his arms and turning his head away.
"I'm sorry, I guess I got caught up in the conversation, I was asking her what she did during the break. It was bad of me to completely ignore you but I have to spend some time with my friends too, non?"
"Yeah, 'course," The English male murmured, he wasn't being too possessive, was he? He had reasons to doubt Joan right?
"I understand you're cautious but you have no need to be, you have the highest place in my heart and no one can compete with you for that title. Even if they do, I won't let them get to it." He claimed with a wink.
"Gosh, sweet words always come out of your mouth so easily."
"It's easy when you truly love the person on the receiving end. Then, your mind and heart work in harmony sprout out these cheesy remarks as you call them." He stated with his typical charming smile.
Francis' attention suddenly move to behind the Brit, to gaze at the azure blue sky that was devoid of clouds, hinting at a sunny day but he knew better than to trust the weather by now. It was mercurial, just like someone else he knew.
Arthur followed suit, to see what was so special to gawk at but as soon as he turned back to bark at him some more, Francis planted a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose.
"Y-you think you can just dish out kisses as you wish?!" Arthur complained, flushing at how effortlessly he did such things, like he didn't give it a second thought.
"If you don't like that, I can refrain from doing so," the French teen explained with a slight smirk, watching the younger for the expected reaction.
"I never said that! I mean... I was just... Idiot!" He exclaimed, pushing him away and scurrying off hurriedly.
Francis chuckled quietly to himself before following him inside.
************Time Skip!************
As he predicted, the skies didn't stay clear and by evening the lashing rain had altered their surroundings. The weather gods must have enjoyed watching their subjects suffering as they rushed to and fro in the unexpected rain.
"Today's Monday, right?" Arthur queried as he huddled closer to his boyfriend to stay under the shelter of the umbrella Francis thankfully thought of bringing.
"Oui?"
"Well, your side of the bet starts today, as we established beforehand. It's your turn to be the actual maid." He smirked pridefully, it felt so good to declare that. He was going to have so much fun toying with him.
"Oh... Yeah. I'll- why do you have a devious look in your eyes?" Francis questioned nervously.
"Whatever do you mean?" The Briton asked cutely, sounding almost like his maid persona from the party. It was extremely weird when he was wearing his typical grandpa get up.
Yep, it was confirmed. From the awfully hidden mischievous look on his face and the sing song tone of his voice, he was definitely up to something.
He couldn't be plotting something terribly bad, right? It'll be fine, what could he possibly do? His plan was probably to drive him to insanity but he could handle that!
Needless to say he certainly underestimated him.
The first grave mistake he committed was rushing off urgently to get changed out of his damp clothes. When he returned, the hallway and living room floors were printed with footprints of a mixture of mud and water.
"What happened here?!" Francis asked incredulously at the shorter blond who was resting on his usual chair, reading like he didn't even realise the mess around him.
When Francis spoke, his head rose up from the book he most probably was just using as a decoy to look busy and scanned his surroundings.
"Oh I'm terribly sorry, I didn't intend to make this much of a mess." He apologised, but what use is an apology when he was clearly grinning mischievously into his book.
"You know the doormat isn't there to just look pretty, it's also there to make sure you don't drag your mess from outside inside." Francis explained in a strict tone.
"I'll remember that next time, you'll clean it this time won't you?"
"You made the mess, why don't you clean it!"
Arthur stopped 'reading' and looked up at him in astonishment.
"But that wouldn't make sense, we did agree you would do all the chores from today, right? So get to work, chop chop!" Arthur clapped his hands to signal him to start cleaning and went back to his book, a triumphant smirk on his face.
"Can I at least do my homework first?" The older blond requested.
"No. Work first, education later." Arthur stated, sticking his nose up in the air haughtily. Francis responded by pointing him a look of distaste but quickly got to it anyway.
He didn't complain though, he knew Arthur was simply using the opportunity he was presented with to its fullest. He wouldn't be surprised if this was his revenge for the costume party, which was understandable so he'd let him have his fun. At least, as long as it's bearable.
By the time he was finished, he headed to the kitchen, intending on making dinner before Arthur decided to add to his pile of chores.
The sight he was met with in the kitchen was horrendous.
He wasted a second of his time, thinking about how Arthur looked like a fish out of water when he was fumbling desperately around the kitchen. It really wasn't his habitat and he should really stay far away, for his and everyone else's safety.
When he recovered from his comparing the Brit to a fish(his bets were on a pufferfish or a piranha), he immediately rushed up to the English boy and questioned what he was doing.
"Oh, see I figured you'd be exhausted after all that cleaning so I made us both peanut butter and jam sandwiches. Here's yours," Arthur told as he slid the plate with a messily prepared sandwich over to Francis.
Francis tried his hardest not to grimace at the so called 'sandwich'. It looked decent enough, considering Arthur made it but he didn't trust it because of the same reason. Arthur had strange connections with food, so much so that he defied the rules of physics with ease.
"That's... sweet of you, but can I ask, why is the sink full of plates now?"
"Because I was going to make scrambled eggs but I er... Decided against it and ended up making two sandwiches instead."
"And you used all the plates in the house because?"
"What do you mean, I've barely used five plates!"
Francis moved to the cabinet where the plates were usually kept and opened it. He gaped at what he saw, or rather, lack of what he saw and then looked expectantly at his boyfriend.
Arthur took a moment to answer, but he didn't use it well as his answer was fit for an excuse making toddler.
"It must have been the fairies, they love having tea parties with human kitchenware." He described with such a straight face he almost believed he was genuine.
"Of course, fairies! That makes total sense!" The French claimed sarcastically, rolling his eyes.
"And I'm guessing the fairies made this abhorrent mess too?"
"No, that was me. Eggs are hard to deal with okay? You'll be a dear and clean it up won't you?"
"As if I have a choice..." He muttered under his breath and watched as Arthur rushed off.
And just like that, an hour of his precious evening was wasted scrubbing dishes and counters while Arthur enjoyed his time doing nothing productive except reading.
While he was in the kitchen, he decided to get started on dinner before Arthur created some new nuisance for him to deal with. At least with a full stomach he can deal with his remarks better.
Surprisingly no calls were heard until he had finished the mac and cheese and sat down at the dining table to take a breath.
Francis didn't bother suppressing his groan as he heard Arthur's wailing, he almost felt like a parent with a demanding baby, needing utmost care at every moment.
How the hell did he know he had just finished and sat down anyway? He was in the living room with no way to see into the kitchen!
Nonetheless, he trudged out of the kitchen to meet the needs of the big baby.
"What is it now?" He asked tiredly, not bothered to mask his irritation.
"I was going through my books when I noticed my bookshelf was rather dusty. Could you take care of that?"
"When I agreed to do the chores, I didn't agree to also be your servant," the French teen countered.
"You agreed to do the chores around the house. My room is part of the house, so it's part of your agreement. And besides, I only asked you to dust off my bookshelf, it'll take five minutes at most."
Francis grumpily agreed before he had a light bulb moment. Arthur's room was always strictly prohibited unless the Brit himself was there and only if Francis had a reason to be there, if not he'd chase him out. Heck, they don't even sleep together in his room, the only time they did was when Joan was over, which was entirely due to the circumstances.
Now with an opportunity handed to him on a silver platter, he just had to use it and snoop through whatever it was he was trying so hard to hide.
Arthur didn't seem to be moving from his spot on his chair so Francis pulled the best poker face he could and stalked off to the bedroom that looked more like a witch's lair than a humans dwelling.
His face only let go of its monotone expression and grinned when he'd closed the door and started rummaging through the drawers at his desk.
"I guess I was wrong to assume you knew what a bookshelf is," his boyfriend's voice rung clear through the room and Francis halted his ecstatic searching and turned around, looking like a criminal caught red handed.
"O-oh I was um... why did you come with me? Shouldn't the master be lounging in the living room while his servant does his bidding?" He tried. He failed.
"You thought I'd just leave you alone in my room? Ha, don't get your hopes up. I know you were very eager to look through my stuff but I'm afraid that's not going to happen. And it will never happen." Arthur confirmed, delighted by the sudden disappointment that spread over the French boy's face.
"What? I would never think of such a thing!" He proclaimed.
"Of course not, you don't need to think about this sort of thing when you're too busy planning how to get into people's pants."
"I'll disregard that comment because I'm a forgiving boyfriend."
"I'll be the judge of whether you're a good boyfriend or not, thank you," Arthur replied, face expressionless but he knew in his head he was laughing at his moping.
Francis rolled his eyes and got to the reason they were in the forbidden part of the house in the first place.
As he sweeped through the shelves, he was beginning to question if Arthur ordered him to do this just to toy with him because not a speck of dust was on the lower shelves, not even under the millions of books he stored on them.
When he leaned onto his toes and reached up to the upper section of shelves did it register to him.
He quickly fell back onto the balls of his feet, turned around and leant against the bookshelf. Crossing his arms over his chest, he watched the other male intently with a knowing smirk.
"Have you tried cleaning this bookshelf before, chéri?"
"... No."
"Oh well I wonder what miracle caused the bottom shelves to be spotless while the top ones are covered in dust."
Arthur stiffened slightly but his discomfort swiftly faded away as he scavenged his mind for a response.
"The funny thing is, the shelves that are dusty are the ones that your little arms can't reach," he commented with a snicker.
"Hey! I can reach that far, how would you know!"
"Be my guest," Francis offered and moved aside to let Arthur prove he wasn't the culprit behind the shelf mystery.
The British teen gave him a quick scowl before hopping on his tippy toes, straining his arms as far as they could go and wiggling his fingers frantically, but they barely grazed the last shelf on the tall ass bookshelf in his room. Francis burst out laughing, which turned out to be a dangerous move because Arthur's mood transitioned from annoyed to livid and started smacking him.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" He begged him to stop, his laughter yet to fully cease.
"Look, if it makes you feel any better I struggle a bit to reach the very top of the bookshelf too." He teased, but Arthur didn't immediately catch on to the secretive jab at his height.
"Hmph, well... wait, are you making fun of me again?!"
"Hehe- no! Ah! No, please spare me, I am but a lowly servant, here to do my master's bidding!" Francis cried as Arthur resumed torturing the French blond who couldn't stop laughing.
************Time Skip!************
Francis' patience was wearing incredibly thin by the end of the evening.
Even after all the work he did, Arthur somehow kept coming up with jobs for him to waste his time on. Finished with one? Well then, there's twenty more on the list, chop chop!
That contemptuous sneer on his face, the way he draped himself on the couch like a carelessly lazy cat while he watched Francis' misery gleefully and the occasional remark about Francis being Cinderella was all so damn exasperating!
Not only that, but it was getting late and he hadn't been allowed to eat the dinner he made and was also forbid from doing his homework till his 'chores' were over. Being ravenous and vexed at the same time was not a good brew, he was like a bubbling cauldron threatening to spill it's contents with the slightest provocation.
When one more explosive ingredient was added to the cauldron did Francis' patience snap.
It was only predictable that Francis would snap at some point, and the subject of tea was what did it.
"Francis! Get me a cup of tea, would you?" Arthur requested, body sprawled across the couch, legs dangling back and forth off the arm while he didn't move his eyes from his book.
Francis glared at him, the thing that got him most irritated was how Arthur was living it up while he was forced to waste his evening like a maid who won't even get paid. His arms itched to drag him off the couch and shout his complaints into his face but he figured it was best to calm down and solve this in a mature and rational way.
In order to clear his head of his wrathful thoughts, Francis took a deep breath- and let it out slowly. He chose to not argue with him but he also wasn't going to simply comply with his request.
When the Brit spotted him walking away, not towards the kitchen where he should be but in the direction of his room, he sprung upright and stared at him incredulously.
"Oi, did you not hear me?"
"Yes, I heard you loud and clear, your highness." He remarked condescendingly, turning around with his hands on his hips. Welp, there goes his plan on acting rationally.
"Then are you going to be a good lad and make me some tea?"
"I'm afraid I'm not bothered to get you a cup of tea, your majesty." He continued to mock him.
"Why not?"
"Why not?! Because I have the right to say no to anything that I don't want to do. Why not? Because you have no right to boss me around like you've been doing all evening!"
"I can to, it's part of the bet!" Arthur claimed, slightly unnerved by how mad Francis was getting.
"No it's not, I agreed to do the chores around the house for five months, not be your personal slave!"
"Well consider it payback for that ridiculous stunt you made me do!"
"Ha, I knew that you were planning revenge from the moment I saw the look in your eyes but I just can't take it anymore. Deliberately making messes and ordering me to clean it up like I definitely don't have any complaints. I decided to be nice and play along with your game, but god, there's a limit to how much I can take!"
"Oh wow, you're such a saint, aren't you? Do you know how mortified I felt last Friday because of you?! Everyone who saw me that day must have thought I looked like a complete fool! All because you selfishly forced me to wear that damned dress. Yes, ordering you around was revenge for the costume contest and yes, I fully intended on making this chore thing a living hell for you but I don't see why it's such a big sin after the emotional distress you put me through." He shouted back, standing his ground with an unyielding determination. His argument was a tad over the top, not that he was outright lying, the amount of humiliation he felt was immeasurable but it wasn't as bad as his words suggested it to be. A little exaggeration wouldn't do no harm, right?
"Emotional distress?! Ha, I think you're the one being selfish. You're not the only one with feelings and emotions, you know. How would you feel if I bossed you around and restricted you from eating and doing your work? You would have started complaining at my first order, I at least tolerated it till now. You feel hurt, you take it out on others, you feel embarrassed, you make sure others suffer the same. Everything's about you, isn't it?" Francis avowed with a bitter cold stare.
The retorts that Arthur had stocked up died on his tongue as his mind replayed Francis' words.
'Ha, how many times have I heard those words by now? That I only care about myself, that I'm a self-centred, egotistical jerk. He's right, like everyone else that's told me the same words before. They were all right.'
Even if he had caring friends and family around him, at the end of the day everyone values their own life more than anything else, so who else was to care for him except himself?
Arthur stayed unresponsive to Francis' reprimanding, suddenly feeling weary and deserving of the comments he hurled towards him, until his ears caught something that his heart just couldn't take.
"And besides, we got what you set out for in the first place. I even let you have the whole prize to yourself so why are you still complaining! That's a good month or two's rent, isn't it? Or is that not enough to satisfy your greediness?" Francis contended, trying to get some reaction out of the Brit who seemed to be ignoring him.
Arthur's self deprecating thoughts vanished as he jolted out of his trance, mouth dropping as he stared at him scandalously. In a split second, he shot up off the couch and was face to face with the older, chartreuse eyes glaring viciously with a burning rage.
"I'm greedy now, am I? What right do you have to say that?! Greed, ha! Do you even know the meaning of the word, frog! You've always had everything you wished for served to you while I've had to earn everything you take for granted. I started working as soon as I could to help my siblings with the living expenses, and even then we've struggled. I bet you've never even spared a thought about the household bills, while I've spent nights without sleep, planning how I can juggle school along with extra hours! I've only wished to have enough to survive so don't you dare teach me about greed!" He yelled into Francis' stunned face.
"You know, the only reason I accepted the whole prize amount was because I thought you were offering it kind-heartedly, but I guess you just did it out of pity since I so desperately wanted it." He growled before he stormed off to his bedroom, the Frenchman's eyes following him and watching as he came back with something in his hands.
"I don't want any of your fucking money, even though I rightfully deserve half of it. Have to learn to not be so greedy, right?" The Briton spat bitterly, shoving the intricately designed envelope into Francis' hands and dashing off once more, leaving the blond to stand stationary in the middle of the living room. This time he didn't come back.
As he stood dumbfounded he felt a twisted sense of relief, glad to be free of the Brit's commanding but minutes later the guilt seeped into his skin and he fell onto the couch with his hand at his temple, suddenly drained of all his energy and questioning his choice of words.
What was he thinking?! He didn't even mean to say such a thing, but his meddling mouth rushed off before his mind could rationalise his thoughts.
There was no use busying his head thinking about it, the only thing he could do now was apologise and hope he accepted.
He decided it was best to wait a while before confronting Arthur, knowing well that he's probably still in the after affects of his outburst so in the meantime he gathered all his knowledge on making a good cup of tea and brought out a few leftover macarons from the fridge. There's no way he could resist tea and macarons, even at such a late hour. Hopefully he'd accept him too.
"Arthur?" He called, gently knocking against the door with his free hand, the other occupied by the cup of tea and plate of macarons. He didn't expect a reply and he was right, there was not a single sound from the other side.
"I know you're upset with me, I understand, I said a lot of terrible things but none of it was from my heart. I said whatever came to mind out of anger and I'm really sorry. Please... At least hear me out?"
No answer yet again. No worries, he had one more trick up his sleeve.
"If you don't open the door, your tea will go cold," he declared, grinning delightedly as the door slowly opened and the blond peered his head out slightly. He hadn't had his daily dose of tea yet so it was the perfect bait to use.
"What do you want?" He deadpanned.
"Five minutes of your time. Please, to explain myself."
"... Fine. But tea and macarons first!" Arthur stated, grabbing the items from his hold and rushing off to the living room.
After finishing the macarons, they faced each other, surrounded by a very awkward silence until Francis took the initiative and started apologising.
"I admit your bossing me around angered me quite a bit, but I didn't mean all that I said earlier. I'm so sorry for hurting you. I was the one who was selfish, I thought your troubles were nothing compared to mine. That's why I got really mad about your orders, which I could have easily dealt with in a mature way but no, I just had to let my emotions take over. And most of all, I didn't mean to call you... Greedy. I was being overdramatic, the only thing that mattered to me then was to make you feel as bad as I did. But in the end I think you felt even more crushed than me. Damn, I acted like a real prick... Could you ever forgive me?" Francis explained, eyes pleading for forgiveness that he didn't feel he deserved. But he tried, because he couldn't live knowing he upset his dearest Arthur this much just because he was annoyed.
Arthur looked down to the ground, and crossed his arms over his chest contemplatively. When he looked back up at him, his lips were pulled into a thin line and his eyes staring gravely up at him, making the hopeful smile on Francis' face to fade into a worried frown.
"I guess... You weren't the only one to blame. I was the one who provoked you into that outburst with my childish revenge scheme. It was wrong of me to make you run around like that, especially for restricting you from eating, that was horrible of me, you must be starving. Did you eat after that?" He implored, eyebrows knitted together in concern.
"Oh don't worry about me mon chéri, I'm not hungry and even if I was, hearing you're not mad at me is enough to satisfy my hunger for days." Francis expressed with an eye smile, making the Englishman cough and evade his eyes.
"Who said I'm not mad at you? I'm enraged actually, but I... forgive you. Because I understand you said what you said because of anger and believe me, I know how much anger can alter one's behaviour. So I'm letting you off the hook, this one time! If you repeat it I might not be so merciful," Arthur stated as a matter of fact.
"I'll take it!" Francis exclaimed, extending his arms and pulling Arthur against his chest.
"Hey yo-! Ah Francis! ...Can't... Breathe!" He exclaimed breathlessly, smacking lightly against his back to make him let go and Francis immediately loosened his hold on him and apologised.
"Sorry! It was just a reaction since I'm just so happy... I didn't ever expect you to forgive me, I haven't even forgiven myself for all that I said to you."
"Don't be so hard on yourself. It's not like worrying about it can fix it, the past is past." Arthur explained in a mature and composed way, shocking the French teen who expected him to reply with something like 'you're lucky I forgave you, frog!"
"And besides, your words succeeded in making me think about some... things."
"Like...?"
"Like how you're right, I am greedy and selfish. As much as I've helped my family financially, I've only been doing it for two years and I haven't even been working since I came to America. Alistair on the other hand, has been working his ass off for as long as I can remember. I experienced a lot of things he never had the pleasure of experiencing, like uninterrupted education and free time to practice my hobbies. I took it all for granted and never gave him credit for all he's done for me. So compared to him and the others, yes, I am greedy and selfish."
"Arthur, I didn't-"
"It's fine, don't apologise. Your words inspired me to call him but... I know that I'll cop out when I go to do it cause I know I'll get teased mercilessly."
"I say you do it. There's no use keeping your gratitude locked up in your head instead of telling the person you're grateful to. And I don't think he'll make fun of you, it'd be so sweet of you to tell him!" Francis exclaimed cheerfully, moved by Arthur's confession.
"That's because you don't know my family. Even if he secretly cares, he's still a dick, he won't let such a chance go by without torturing me about it."
"It's your choice but I still think you should call him. Even if he makes fun of you he'll still be happy inside that you told him." The older male smiled sweetly at the other.
"Oh, I forgot to give you this," he continued, puzzling the blond until he fished the exquisitely designed envelope he was given earlier out of his pocket and placing it into Arthur's palm.
"No! I can't accept it." The Brit stated firmly and pushed it back towards his chest.
"Why not, you accepted it before!" Francis argued in a pleading tone rather than defensive.
"But I gave it back, I can't accept it again! I've decided to get a part time job anyway, I can't depend on my siblings and prize money forever," he replied, a light chuckle leaving his lips.
"Come on, don't be like that. It's yours, at least accept it back, I don't care if you use it or don't use it. I won't be able to handle it if you rejected this because of me, so please?" Francis admitted with a sad pout.
Arthur took his sweet time to answer, and even then it was a simple nod, it felt so much more powerful than any words.
Francis resisted his urge to pull him into his embrace once more because he didn't want to lose the serenity he had worked so hard to earn.
"Back to the topic of your siblings, I haven't heard you call then since that 'incident',"Francis giggled mischievously, wagging his eyebrows at him for emphasis. It's so strange, how a situation that you dreaded when it was happening can be hilarious when you think about it later. Especially when it led to this enthralling relationship he wouldn't exchange for anything.
"O-oh, er yeah, they... must be busy since they haven't called me so I didn't want to disturb them." He responded, fiddling with the hem of his jumper.
"Do you think they'll be shocked when they realise you're dating the awful French roommate that you oh so despised?" He questioned with a playful smirk. Arthur perked up in defense.
"I didn't despise you! I was raised in a British household that's very serious about our grudge towards the French. That's why I said what I said, and I'm not proud of it." The younger conceded.
"Ha, it's alright mon petit lapin, French households are the exact same towards the British. It's a mutual love hate relationship, kinda like ours!" He commented, ruffling up his hair affectionately, only to have Arthur smack his hands away afterwards.
"But the real question is, do you like the French more now that you're dating one?" Francis queried, batting his eyelashes cutely.
"Nope, just you, you snail eating bastard," he proclaimed with a snarky grin and nudged him in the side playfully.
"Hey, I take offence to that! Escargot is gorgeous!" Francis defended, paying no heed to the name he was called, as he'd grown to realise that Arthur's insults are equal to his pet names. And needless to say, he felt the fluttering of butterflies in his stomach at his proclamation, a feeling that he hadn't experienced since he was twelve and crushing on a classmate. It felt exhilarating.
Arthur shot him a repulsed look before he made fake gagging noises and shook his head violently. His actions made the French blond burst into laughter, which soon spread to his boyfriend who tried snapping him out of it but soon they were huddled together on the couch in a fit of giggles for absolutely no reason.
Francis' nightmare had barely resurfaced his thoughts that day, though it was still frightening to ponder about. His only wish was for was the nightmare to not be some sort warning, hopefully it was just his overactive imagination thinking up a storm. The operative word being 'hopefully'.
~
Kay so if anyone saw the uncompleted version, I have no clue what happened there but wattpad zapped back to a previous revision of the chapter and I literally fliPPED when I saw it anyway hope ya back to normal okay carry on now-
I'm terribly sorry for the lack of updates, I know I didn't meet anyone's expectations, especially not my own but I hope it wasn't too much of a bother. This summer has been up and down for me and it didn't leave me with much time to write.
Also my chapters are really long lately, might I ask, is that a good or bad thing? Do you's enjoy long or short chapters more?
Thank you so much for reading and I hope you all have a splendid day!