Hurry Up and Save Me

Chapter One - START

"Oh, Arthur," a young teenager sang out, his voice laced with a melodic tease. "Isn't this simply fantastic? My, I've always wondered what it would be like to room with you. Seems like I've finally gotten my wish!"

The blonde Brit cringed at the sound of his new roommate's tone. This was exactly the kind of situation that he wanted nothing else but to avoid- being paired with someone who'd constantly pester him. Arthur had hoped to get someone quieter, who would agree to keep their side to themselves, and just leave him be. But it looked like there weren't any chances of that happening anymore.

"What luck," Arthur murmured with a sigh. He paused in the middle of pulling out neatly folded shirts out of his suitcase to turn his head and take a look at the Frenchman, eyes narrowed. "So I'm stuck with you this year, frog?" he spat.

"Aw, don't be like that," Francis cooed, finally dragging his bags past the doorway. He brought them over to the bed opposite Arthur's, setting down a small suitcase along with some duffel bags onto the unused mattress. The sheets were expectantly clean, as well as both windows that were placed above the two beds that mirrored each other.

Arthur faced his own set of items again and rolled his eyes, which, of course, Francis didn't see.

Ever since they met at the same homeroom, the two bickered and teased more than they actually had casual conversations. Of course, though, this was normal for them.

It was now both of the boys' second year at Heta High- A boarding school for international students. Heta High was easily one of the largest populated schools, sometimes even considered crowded, but labelled a fairly decent place overall. Each dorm consisted of two people of the same gender. No exceptions there.

"Arthur," the French accent drawled once again.

"What do you want?" the Brit snapped, hastily stalking over to his wardrobe with a handful of clothes. Upon prying the doors open, he found a row of hangers lined up next to each other, and for which he was thankful for.

Francis took a seat on his bed and simply watched his new roomie organize some clothing. Jumpers, jeans, vests- There wasn't anything in particular that caught his eye. The Frenchman swiftly pulled a phone out of his new, violet-plaid school trousers and layed himself down across the sheets. "Starting tomorrow, everyday will be like this," he remarked, gliding his fingers across the touch screen.

Arthur's movements slowed from the quick pace that they were hanging clothes up from earlier. He kept his head low and spoke in a much quieter voice than before. "I know," he breathed, almost with a grimace. "Don't remind me."

"Oh, don't act like I'm doing this just to torture you-"

"You are."

The older blonde's eyes flickered away from the screen and, for a brief moment as silent tension lingered about in the air, threw a cold glare at his roommate. His fingers had frozen in place. Tsk, tsk. Someone was certainly in a foul mood today. Or was it only because of back to school blues? Whatever the reason, Francis didn't want to deal with this so early in the school year.

Narrowed, green eyes returned the favor and gave him a hard stare. A faint rumbling noise from the halls outside was all that could be heard as the two waited for the other to speak up. They were basically daring each other in their minds.

Arthur didn't know how long he stood there until he finally whipped around and snatched a green sweater from one of the hangers. Shrugging it on, he made a beeline for the doorknob. "I'm going out," he said brusqely, and didn't wait to see the other's reaction.

The door was slammed shut with more force than necessary, and Francis was alone.

[] . . . []

The Brit pushed himself past the doors that allowed him to exit the building of Heta High and was met by a sudden rush of warm air. He grumbled under his breath and ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it about with no intention of caring how his current appearance looked. So what if someone happened to be here? So what if anyone saw him, thinking he looked like a mess? Let them think that. He was a mess.

Arthur didn't know where he was going. He just kept moving forward, lost in his thoughts as he mumbled curses, staring at the crisp grass under him. Grass... Ah, so this is where he managed to wander into. Upon this realization, he could almost already see the floodlights that surrounded him. Surrounded the football field.

Ironic, he thought bitterly. Arthur honestly disliked sports. They just weren't his cup of tea, and he certainly wasn't no star at playing. He already had enough to put up with, what with academics, and his own more personal problems... Point is, his plate was plenty full. Probably even on the edge of overflowing.

It wasn't long before he found himself met with seemingly endless rows of bleachers. He had rarely ever sat on one, except for those times back in grade school when his class was obliged to watch the games. Now, it was because he needed to clear his head, and just happened to get there. All by chance. Arthur exhaled deeply and seated himself down at the front, elbows placed on his knees and chin resting on his palms.

Classes haven't even started yet, so why was he feeling so nervous? Nothing yet to be so nervous about. Whatever happens, he'll always survive it in one piece... because that's what always happens. He can always work everything out by himself. He doesn't need anyone else. And it's not like anyone would offer anyways, right?

Arthur let a sigh escape his lips, exaggerating it a little by making a sort of groan. His eyes darted around carelessly, occasionally spotting random objects and distracting himself of his train of thoughts by making small deductions. The grass was freshly trimmed, he noticed, and there was a loose leaf some feet ahead of him. It twitched sometimes from the breeze. The odd thing was that... the leaf seemed alone. Isolated, even. Why was there only one? Where were the rest of the leaves? Arthur's curiosity suddenly grew, and his gaze followed a path behind the leaf, trying to find the source. Surely, there was a tree somewhere...

A flash of brown. What was that? The Brit's eyes shot up and he immediately jerked into an upright sitting position. Something had just whizzed past him (nearly crashing into his face, actually) so quickly that he didn't have time to see what it was.

What the hell? Was someone trying to kill him?

Moments later, he got his answer. There were footsteps. Running footsteps.

"Oh, gosh- Sorry about that, dude!" a boy called out. His crystal blue eyes were large with fret behind a thin pair of glasses. His blonde hair tumbled about with each step, save for one strand that stuck out upwards from the rest. Clinging from his body was a a loose, red-and-white striped shirt that was probably even oversized. Clothes somebody would wear indoors, Arthur noted.

How cute... Wait, this wasn't the time to be thinking about that!

"You could've killed me! Bloody git," Arthur scolded the taller boy, a slight hiss to his voice. He was fully aware that he had to look up in order to meet those sky blue eyes, but he couldn't stop now. If whatever that was had hit him, he'd have had a bruise on the first day back at school!

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, okay?" the blonde apologized. He waved his hands in front of himself defensively, and the sincere expression of worry upon his features almost completely convinced Arthur that he wasn't faking it. "Did I hit you? Does it hurt anywhere? Crap- C'mon, I'll take you to the nurse-"

"I'm not hurt," Arthur blurted out in order to cut him off. He felt a pang of guilt seeing the surprisement on the American (he could tell from the accent)'s face, but was relieved that he didn't have to be held up by the ramblings. "Just... Be more careful next time, all right? Or my hospital bill might end up being on you."

He didn't bother throwing in a laugh for reassurance but instead turned around and walked towards the fallen object. Of course. The Brit kneeled down and picked up the football that had almost collided into him, and he had half a mind to just chuck it over the fences. But, no- That wouldn't be acceptable for his 'gentleman' reputation. He tossed it over his shoulder and glanced back just in time to see the football caught in midair by the American, whose lips had curved up into a smile.

"Nice throw," he exclaimed cheerfully, tucking the football away under his arm. "You on the team?"

Arthur chuckled bitterly, pushing himself off of his knee as he got back on his feet and faced the other teenager. "As if." He folded his arms in front of his chest and stared off into the distance at the side. The sun was setting, and it'd be getting dark pretty soon. He hesitated for a moment before speaking up again. "Are you?"

The American shook his head, following the other's gaze. "Football team? Nah." His head lowered a bit at this, and Arthur couldn't help but wonder if there was a reason to that. Or maybe he was just overthinking things again. Nevertheless, the boy said nothing more about the topic. He took a step backwards after some silence between them. "I guess it's getting late... I should be heading back now."

Arthur nodded, pulling his thin jacket closer to himself. "Yeah, same here."

A small smile found its way onto the boy's lips as he began turning around to leave. "Again, sorry for, um... almost hitting you earlier. If I see you around, maybe I can do you a favor or something!" And with that, he gave a brief goodbye wave and started heading back to wherever he planned on going.

The Brit watched his back for a while. What was that American doing out here in the first place? ...Well, no matter. It's not like Arthur was going to see him again. After all, what were the chances? He probably wasn't worth giving thought over.

It was strange, though. Somewhere at the back of his heart... He wanted to wish that they'd meet again.

It wasn't impossible, was it?

Chapter One - END