Arthur's P.O.V.
I wake up in the morning with a massive headache! I don't really remember what had happened last night, other than I drank too much before finally blacking out.
I also realize that I'm in my clothes from the night before, and that I must have been sleeping on the floor in...FRANCIS' HOUSE?
Shit!
I quickly stand up, seeing that the bedroom door was open, and it probably stayed like that all night.
Oh no.
Francis!
I know I have to find him, so I run down the staircase and follow a sweet scent into the huge kitchen. I see him standing near the stove, and I take note that he's already dressed for the new day.
How early did this guy wake up?
"Hey, what are you making?" I ask him, but he doesn't answer me.
I walk up to his side, but he just shifts over a bit before continuing to make what I assume is waffle batter.
"Good morning," I smile politely, but I still don't get an answer from him.
I even smiled this time, jeez!
"Francis, is something the matter?" I gently urge him on, placing my hand on his shoulder, but that's when he turns to face me and forcefully grabs my wrist in his hand.
"Don't you dare touch me again," he quietly scolds me, almost as if the rest of his family is still asleep inside the house.
I'm confused.
Again?
What happened last night?
"I-I'm so-sorry?" I stutter, ignoring the pain in my wrist as I face him like a weakling. "I'm...afraid I don't understand, I-"
"That was your goal all along, wasn't it?" Francis continues. "You get drunk only to kiss me?"
"I did...what?" I gasp, my eyes going wide with shock. "Whatever it was, Francis, I didn't-"
"Mean to?" Francis interrupts me. "Yeah, that's what people like you always say!"
People like me?
Okay, now I'm hurt.
"Please, Francis," I beg quietly. "I'm sorry! I don't remember doing that, because I was drunk, and I know how serious sexual assault is, and believe me, if I could do that whole night all over again, I would! Please, don't be angry with me!"
Francis looks me over, letting my wrist go as he continues to make breakfast for us.
"Get out."
Or...just for him.
"What?"
"Did I stutter?"
I shake my head, too afraid of his anger to refuse his order.
I start to make my way out of the kitchen, but then I stop and face him again.
"Francis-"
"I TOLD YOU TO GET OUT!" Francis yells at me, his blue eyes practically staring into my soul. "I DON'T WANT TO SEE YOU EVER AGAIN FOR AS LONG AS I LIVE, ARTHUR KIRKLAND!"
My heart cracks at those words, but I run out of his house as fast as I can.
I feel terrible!
I have no memory of kissing him like that, or even touching him at all!
Come to think of it, Francis touched me more last night than I've ever touched him in the few weeks we've known each other!
Well...I suppose they were kinder, too.
If I was drunk, that would make mine...less kind.
Damn it!
I'm such a jerk!
I never should have gone to that party, more or less had that first cup of alcohol!
~~~~~~
I go back to my dorm, flopping onto my bed out of frustration, sadness, and...heartbreak.
I don't know why my heart hurts so much, considering Francis is the one who got hurt in the end, not me!
Well, I guess hearts don't break even, do they?
So then...why did ours?
I gasp, sitting up in my bed.
No.
No, no, no, no, no, no!
NO!
I have....
"What'cha blushin' for?" a smug voice tears through my mind, and I jump in fright to see Alfred standing by my bed.
"I've done a very bad thing!" I immediately tell him, and this worries him.
"What?" he wonders, sitting on the edge of my bed. "Spill!"
"Last night, if you can remember," I begin sadly, "I got very drunk."
"Oh, yeah!" Alfred laughs. "I remember! Francis even dragged you away from the DJ station!"
"This isn't funny!" I interrupt him. "I kissed him, Alfred! I really, truly kissed him!"
Alfred stops laughing immediately, looking at me with seriousness.
"You. Did. WHAT?"
"I'm not going to repeat myself."
"Dude," Alfred says shortly. "You're insane."
"I was drunk!" I defend myself. "How was I supposed to control myself?"
"Did you apologize?"
"Yes."
"And?"
"He kicked me out of his house...."
"YOU KISSED HIM INSIDE HIS HOUSE?" Alfred yells in my face.
I just nod, looking at my lap out of guilt.
Alfred sighs softly, hugging me.
"You know what you should do?"
"What?"
"Give him something nice to better your apology."
"Yeah?" I scoff. "Like what? Chocolate and a bouquet of flowers?"
"Yes, actually," Alfred agrees with me.
"I was being sarcastic!"
"And I'm being serious."
I huff, but Alfred continues.
"I'm serious, Arthur," he states, crossing his arms in defiance. "You have to show him how much you care about his feelings. Francis is actually a really nice and forgiving person once you get to know him. You just...have to show him that you're worthy to see that side of him."
"He told me to get out of his house, Alfred!" I reply. "He said that he doesn't want to see my face ever again for as long as he lives!"
"And you believe that?" Alfred answers, shocked.
"Yes, I do!" I tell him. "Because that's what I would say!"
I shut up, then, sniffing as tears fall down my face.
"I've lost him as a friend!" I sob. "If he even thought we were friends!"
"Hey, hey, buddy, come on," Alfred hushes me. "You can't cry over this. You have to make it up to him!"
"How?" I wonder. "He hates me! He said so!"
"You two are just hurt," Alfred reassures me. "Come on. I'll even help you buy the gifts and teach you how to apologize properly, okay?"
I nod, standing up and following him out of our dorm room and into the City of Paris.