Well, hello there~
This is different than what I usually do, so please bear with me...lol, bears :)
Okay, so this has been sitting on my laptop for a while
And I'm not exactly sure where it's going, but I think it could be pretty good...
I'd really like to hear what you guys think, so please review!
Enjoy.
12:00 PM
"Fine," answered Arthur. "Why don't we just have dinner at my house?" he asked hesitantly. He just knew this guy was going to make a big deal out of nothing. As if on cue, the Frenchman's deep blue eyes grew to the size of quarters.
"Seriously?" replied Francis. "YOU'RE asking ME out?"
"I'm not really asking you out," Arthur pointed out, matter-of-factly. "We both have to eat and I simply suggested that we do it together."
"That's not the only 'it' I wish we would do together, "Francis winked back. Arthur frowned in a futile attempt to prevent himself from blushing.
"Get your mind out of the gutter," he snapped.
"Aw, but it's so happy there," the French boy smirked.
"Whatever," Arthur rolled his eyes. "Are you coming or what?" Francis smiled at him, but shrugged.
"I don't know, I may be busy," he responded coyly.
"What do you mean 'busy'? You just said that you weren't doing anything later!" Arthur shot back, exasperated. Francis continued to smile at the slightly irritated Englishman.
"As of now, no. But who knows? I might just get a better offer and you said it yourself, it's not really a date." Now, Arthur was getting angry.
"A better offer? Does that mean you aren't coming?"
"Not necessarily, it just means that you should probably try a little harder to convince me."
"I'm not going to beg, you bloody wanker!" By now Arthur was invested in this dinner, he was going to have it whether this annoying idiot was going or not. "Just tell me if you're going to be there!"
"Beg? I would never suggest such a thing! Although, now that you mention it, I wouldn't mind seeing you on your knees," acknowledged Francis, slowly biting his lower lip.
"Uh, well, I...it's not-" tried Arthur, but he really couldn't focus when Francis insisted on watching him so seductively. "Stop it!"
Francis looked confused.
"Stop what?"
"Looking at me! I'm not going to sleep with you!" Francis raised an eyebrow.
"What on earth are you talking about, you silly Englishman? We are trying to talk about dinner, please get your mind out of the gutter," he replied slyly. Arthur face palmed and shook his head in defeat. There was just no reasoning with this guy.
"This is the last time I'm asking. Do you want to have dinner at my house?" He was determined not to let the French bastard make him lose his temper, at least not again.
"Are you cooking dinner?"
"Yea, I was actually thinking that you could cook."
"What? What kind of date is that?"
"It's not a date!"
"I'm not cooking."
"Neither am I."
"Well of course not! I am in no mood to go to the hospital today."
"Hey, my cooking isn't that bad!"
"Please, you're banned from the fresh market."
"Who needs them and their fresh 'ingredients'?" Arthur stressed sarcastically.
"People who cook edible food," Francis responded bluntly. "So this is what you're going to do. You're going to call this number," he asserted, handing Arthur a business card for a French restaurant. "And you're going to order an amazing dinner for two."
"I don't want to order out," Arthur remarked, holding the business card as if it disgusted him.
"Well that's too bad because it's happening," Francis replied sternly. Even though he was acting confident, he was a little worried that pushing Arthur too hard may cause him to lash out and cancel the dinner. He breathed a small sigh of relief when Arthur nodded.
"Fine, ok," the Englishman resigned. "So I'll see you at seven?"
"Maybe," smiled Francis as he turned around and left. Arthur simply sat there watching him go. Oh, how that French bastard infuriated him!
6:30 PM
Arthur was driving home with the ordered food placed in the passenger seat. He had to admit that it smelled good, well, good for French food. Soon, he pulled up into his driveway and entered his home, Arthur then placed the food on the kitchen counter and looked around his dining room. He had set up a single round table with two chairs covered with a white tablecloth and a small floral centerpiece in the middle. He smirked to himself, that Frog was always getting on him about not having a single romantic bone in his body, well tonight, he was going to eat his words. He had called Elizaveta to help him decorate and he thought they had done a pretty good job. She suggested that he put up candles, but he didn't want a bloody fire hazard on his hands. When he was around Francis he did stupid things and he decided not to put his flat in jeopardy tonight. With a quick glance to his watch, Arthur realized that he should probably start getting ready. He glanced at the dining room one more time and then headed for the shower.
6:50
To bow tie or not to bow tie? Arthur thought as he finished his wardrobe. He stared at himself in the mirror as he tried the bow tie out and sighed. It pained him how relatively plain he felt as he examined his features. He thought about how easy this would have been for Francis, the man was an Adonis and everything came so easy to him. It made Arthur wonder why the Frenchman was even interested in him in the first place, when he could literally have anyone he wanted. He figured that the bastard liked the chase and that was why the Briton was afraid to sleep with him. If he gets what he wants, he won't want me anymore, resigned Arthur and even though he would probably never admit it to Francis, Arthur enjoyed his company. Even when he was being a perv, the Frenchman had a way of making Arthur feel wanted, something he hadn't felt in a long time and if that were to suddenly just stop...the Englishman didn't even want to think about it.
7:00
His phone alarm went off. Arthur got up and went to the kitchen to pour himself a shot. He didn't know why he was so nervous, it was just Francis. They hung out all the time. For a couple of minutes, he simply paced around his kitchen, continuously checking his watch until he forced himself to stop. That bastard's always late, you don't need to get all worked up, it's exactly what he wants. Arthur tried to make himself calm down by grabbing a copy of Shakespeare's Hamlet and situating himself on the couch.
7:05
Arthur checked his cell for the fiftieth time. Nope, nothing. Was his phone even working? He made sure to turn up the volume to the maximum and put the phone in its charger.
7:09
Where the hell is he? thought Arthur as he paced his living room. He turned on his computer and checked Francis' Facebook page. Not updated since this morning. Great, that helps no one. Arthur perused down Francis' page, ugh why does that frog have so many friends? I should check his Twitter! The Englishman began to type rapidly into his keyboard. He surveyed Francis' twitter feed but found nothing but updates from Gilbert on the status of his awesomeness. Currently it was at max capacity. Before Arthur could even return to Facebook he got another update from Gilbert warning him that he was about be arrested for being too awesome. Arthur rolled his eyes. That guy could be rather full of himself.
7:22
His phone was broken. It had to be. Francis was probably trying to call him right now and he was missing it because of his fucking phone. Arthur took his phone out of charge and held it in his hands. It looked okay. He pressed a couple of buttons to make sure they were working. Everything checked out. Maybe there's something wrong with the network. He dialed Alfred's number.
"Hello?" Boomed a loud voice on the other line. Arthur hung up. So the phone works, where the hell was Francis? he thought. Suddenly his phone rang and he jumped a little, but then eased up when he saw that it was just Alfred, so he rejected the call. He tried not to think about Francis, that's exactly what the bastard wanted. He was late and probably hoping that Arthur was sitting around worrying about him. Nope. I won't do it. I will not give him the satisfaction! His phone rang again and he couldn't help but get his hopes up. However, they were dashed again when he saw the caller ID-it was Alfred. He rejected it again.
"I should just eat without him," he resigned. Just then his phone rang again, it was Alfred. This time he picked up.
"I need this line clear, could you please stop harassing me!?"
"Whoa, you called me first!" the American retorted.
"Then, I started ignoring your calls, take a hint!" he finished as he hung up. God, what is wrong with that guy?
7:40
Forty minutes? FORTY MINUTES? Was that bastard not coming? Arthur thought as he looked at his phone for the millionth time. No call, no text, nothing! Unbelievable! I should call him to tell him off! My time is valuable and I'm fucking starving, he can't just keep me waiting like this! he thought angrily. Then the doorbell rang and he jumped. He got up and marched to the door, yanking it open.
"IT'S ABOUT GODDAMN TIME!" he yelled. A young teenage boy stood at the door in his delivery uniform, he looked terrified.
"I'm sorry! There was traffic, but I promise the flowers are fine. Please don't call my manager, I just got this job," he begged.
"Oh, no, I'm sorry," admitted Arthur, recognizing his mistake. "What flowers?" he asked, noticing a bouquet of roses on the floor behind the teen.
The boy nervously checked his clipboard. "Um, I have a dozen pre-paid roses for a Mr. Arthur Kirkland."
"I didn't order any roses," said Arthur, confused.
"Well, this is the address," declared the boy, rechecking his clipboard. He then looked up and smiled at Arthur. "Someone must be trying to impress you."
"I suppose..." Arthur agreed, taking the roses. "Thank you."
"Have a wonderful night," waved the boy as he left and Arthur closed the door behind him. He placed the roses in a vase. Who would- his thoughts were interrupted by his ring tone. It was Francis.
"What do you want?" he asked, grumpily.
"Do you like them?" asked a suave voice on the other end.
"What are you talking about?"
"I know you got them." Arthur looked at the roses and face palmed. Of course. But that still didn't explain...
"How did you know that I got them?" Arthur stepped back outside and searched around.
"Huh?"
"You heard me you French bastard, I literally just got the flowers. Are you spying on me?" demanded Arthur. He was back inside now, searching through his plants. "Do you have a video camera hidden somewhere?" As Arthur contemplated where to search next the voice on the other line fell silent.
"Hello?"
"I can't believe I didn't think of that," the Frenchman seemed to be muttering to himself.
"What?"
"Oh, um, you're welcome."
"Wait, what?"
"You know, for the flowers?" Francis reminded him.
"No, what did you say before?"
"You have got to stop living in the past."
"Forget it. "The other side fell silent, Arthur wasn't sure how to bring up the dinner without sounding whiny or like he wanted to see him. Because he didn't. Right.
"Where the fuck are you?"
"What do you mean?" Did he forget? Oh god, did I make the whole thing up?
"I thought, well you said, aren't we having dinner tonight?" he asked weakly.
"Why yes, we are," agreed Francis. "And I must admit I am pretty excited." Arthur's stomach fluttered a little when he heard those words, but he tried to keep cool. He was mad.
"Then, why aren't you here?"
"Mais ma cher, didn't you get my text?"
"What text?"
"I told you that I had to help Gilbert out with something and if you didn't mind, could we move the dinner to eight?"
"I didn't get a text!"
"C'est vrai? But I'm sure I sent one," his voice fell quiet for a minute as if he was checking something, then he groaned. "Mon petit chouchou, je suis tres desole, I've been having trouble with my phone all week. I didn't mean to keep you waiting, I feel terrible. I'm on my way right now."
"Whatever, just get over here."
"I'm glad to hear that you missed me," chuckled Francis. Arthur was glad he wasn't there to see him blush.
"I didn't miss you, we had an appointment. Where I'm from it's rude to miss an appointment and keep a party waiting."
"Well, whether you missed me or not, I'm glad you waited. It means alot to me, mon coeur."
"Get here soon or I'm eating without you."
8:40
He had been lied to. Stood up. Made a fool. There hadn't really been a text; he just didn't want to own up to not showing up. I'm so stupid for believing him. Arthur got up off his couch and put the food in the fridge. He wasn't even hungry anymore, he just wanted to go to bed and forget this whole day. As he headed to his room, his phone rang. He cursed at himself when he felt his heart rate increase. He checked his cell, it was just Gilbert. He and Francis were probably having a good laugh at his expense right now. He ignored the call and turned off his phone. He didn't want to hear from anyone else tonight.
A/N: Thanks for reading! :)