Disclaimer: I do NOT own anything of Hetalia. Absolutely nothing is mine!

AU. England. Human names used.

Short and choppy, almost mousey blonde hair was tussled by the breeze that stirred the suddenly still air around the solitary figure. A shadowed being, who for the life of him, couldn't understand why things were the way they were and why he couldn't change them no matter how hard he tried. No matter how often. His quick temper and odd quirks could be a handful, sure, but was he really all that bad? Was he really suppoed to be here? Reduced to nothing but a lonely shadow in a sunless world.

- - - - - - - - - -

No soul coupled his any longer. No voice to comfort him, nor arms to embrace him. No warm bed to crawl into at night. No one waiting for him when he came home. The empty halls of Arthur Kirkland's home were haunting and brimming the memories of a long since forgotten past. How did it feel? Once more, he just wanted to know how it felt to come home to a loving family. He missed coming in that door and having his nostrils being assaulted by so many wonderfully appetizing smells from the kitchen. Looking to the door, he could still see Francis standing at the stove. His hair would be pulled back into a pony tail, and he would be wearing an apron. Sleeves pushed up. Even if he had been a pervert and annoying as hell, Arthur would have given anything to have him back.

He sighed. Removing his coat, he hung it on the coat rack by the door and moved into the kitchen. He supposed he could prepare something for himself. Though he didn't feel like cooking. Francis had never let him cook. Only Francis used the stove, and he didn't feel like ruining that for him even now. Instead, he moved to the phone in the kitchen. Leaning against the counter as he dialed up the chinese take out and placed an order. His emerald green eyes glanced around the empty and seemingly stale kitchen. There. That spot by the doorway in. There was a stain still on the wallpaper. He needed to clean up still. Below that stain, there was a shattered plate on the floor. How long had it been? It hadn't been too long, had it? He couldn't bring himself to clean the mess. He wanted to leave things just the way they were in hopes that maybe he would come back and they would be here. Just like the whole thing never happened.

Sighing as he hung up the phone, Arthur left the kitchen. Slow steps carried him out as he thought back to that. To the plate and the stain.

"You bloody bastard! Stop being so damned daft! It didn't mean anything!"

"Do you think I would believe that!? Imbécile!" Francis turned his back as he went to prepare a plate for himself. Matthew and Alfred, still young, sat at the table trying hard to ignore what was going on.

"Francis! You are being unreasonable!"

"COCHON!" He picked up the plate and hurdled it in Arthur's direction. It narrowly missed Arthur's head as he turned out of the way.

He sighed heavily. That memory was so vivid still. Maybe it hadn't been so long. Finding himself in the livingroom, he slowly dragged his tired self towards the old rust coloured chesterfield. A long and exhausted sigh passed between his pale thin lips. The tip of his tongue darting out to dampen the dried petals atleast a little. As he let himself sink into the cushons of the chesterfield, he shifted and lay on his side. Pulling up his feet, he balled up on the furniture. Maybe. Just maybe. He sighed once again. A soft glistening sheen of moisture misted over the emerald orbs that had seen so much. That held within their depths all the pain and regret that the owner carried on his shoulders. Such a burden. He shouldn't have done it.

As soon as they had the fight, Arthur knew he had to call it off. He broke everything off and begged and pleaded for Francis to return. But nothing worked. It had resulted in more shouting and insults being thrown and tossed around over the phone. More and more violent words. What was worse was that he hadn't been allowed to speak to Al or Mattie after the incident. He missed them sorely. The Englishman wished he could hold his boys close and tight and promise them that he wouldn't hurt them or Francis ever again. That he wouldn't drink anymore. He would come home right away after work. That he would listen to them and be the father he was supposed to be. Not some sleeper drunk. He didn't want to be that anymore. He wasn't. He hadn't been for a near month. Yes. A month. It had been a full cycled month since that night. Since he came home late. Since he found Francis with tears in his eyes. Hurt, anger and betrayal. How he regretted causing that look in those wonderful blue eyes.

A full month since his husband took their children and left the house. Left him. Since his everything picked up and abandoned him. But Arthur assumed he deserved it. Admittingly, he probably would have done the same if Francis had done it to him. He didn't even try to make himself into the good guy in the situation. He knew. He had known from the beginning he couldn't do that and call it right. He knew there hadn't been, in any small way, any way to justify what he had done to his family. This was his fault and his fault alone. No one stood at his side to help carry the burden and it was in the children's best interests, aswell as Francis, that Francis had decided ultimately to leave. God I was such a fool, he thought. But it was then. At that moment, as the Englishman was about to slip into a blissful unconsciousness, and follow his daily ritual, that he heard a soft click. A soft click and whispered voices. The sound of steps quietly making their way up the stairs. Soft small voices, one so timid and the other... so strong. The familiar sound of footsteps approaching before they finally stopped and he opened his weary eyes.

"Mon cher, we're home."

"You've forgiven me?"

"Oui."

Well, welly well well well. Look! A complete one! lol. Its just a one-shot. Sorry its not very long. Please don't hate me. Its 4:05am right now, and I started writing this maybe an hour ago. . you know I love you all. Have a Happy Easter everyone! I hope you guys liked this one.