The meeting had been dismissed some time ago. England figured everyone had left quickly and so he took this time alone to organize his notes and other things. Since the meeting had been held in his dear London, he was required to handle all the preparations and such, which wasn't really much of a bother. The nations took these as opportunities to flaunt. The large windows which would have been perfect to showcase the lovely garden outside now were filled with flashes of lightning. England let loose a sigh. Things had been a little off lately, but he wasn't sure what it was…" oh well" he sighed yet again and slowly got up, and with a face that was all business, left the room. He was just grabbing his coat when he heard a voice

"Please, mon ami, can I talk with you?"

It was France. The only thing that disturbed him more than the fact that he had been there all along was the look in his eyes. He pretended not to see.

"Not now, I've got things of importance to attend to" he responded briskly as he turned away.

"I could not say anything during the meeting; I wanted to talk in private"

"Hell if you'll be doing anything in private with me, frog!" he snapped, ignoring the Frenchman's earnest tone of voice.

"Please!" he begged, emotion poured in his voice "please, Angleterre! Tell me what I did!" he sobbed "everyone has turned away from me! Why?"

Arthur was shocked by the display of emotion from the man before him. He'd never seen France act in this way. He had seen the Frenchman cry before, but something was different about this. These were real tears. And tears made England uncomfortable. He cleared his throat

"I don't know what you're talking about"

"Don't lie to me, Arthur" he cried "you know what I mean!"

And he did. He hadn't realized it before, but it was true. That was what was off. He hadn't noticed that Francis hadn't been participating in any meetings as of late or been butting into his arguments with Alfred. At first he unconsciously assumed that it was the Frenchman, but now, he could see, it was everyone else. For some reason everyone, including himself, had been shunning him. It was cruel. Nowadays, it was rare for anyone to speak to France at all. And then he felt guilty. Guilty for causing the state of the crying man before him. But what was he supposed to say? Even he did not know why everyone was treating him this way.

"Well "Arthur said shakily "maybe if you stopped groping everyone"

Francis said nothing.

"Sometimes it's rather uncomfortable" he took a breath" and when you're so close, it's hard to know if you're serious"

Francis let loose a dry laugh "is that really all it is, Angleterre? Is it only my actions?" the question ended in a somber tone of voice

Arthur scratched his head "Maybe"

"I see" the empty smile that covered his face haunted him "Thanks for you honesty"

And he turned to leave.

"Wait" Arthur grabbed his arm "the weather is especially horrid and god knows you shouldn't have brave the storm alone" he gave a weak chuckle at his own attempt at humor.

"Are you sure you want to let someone like me into your home, Arthur?"

The façade that he had unknowingly put up was now broken.

"yes"