Author's note: I'VE DONE IT AGAIN. I WROTE A DEPRESSING STORY WITH THESE TWO. Okay, so my friend and I were talking and suddenly this idea came to us and my brain refused to let it leave my head so I wrote it and now I feel HORRIBLE. Because I have done this to Arthur TWICE now. What is it with me and torturing my favorite character? D: So yeah, I'm putting a warning here: THIS MIGHT MAKE YOU CRY. ;__;

It was a beautiful day.

Ironic, Arthur thought as he looked towards the sky. It was such a crisp blue, a few clouds here or there. The distant sound of a bird's song could be heard in the distance. It was interrupted by soft sobs from behind him.

Arthur turned and saw the other nations assembled, some crying, some trying hard not to cry. He walked up to the casket, preparing himself; forcing himself not to cry. He couldn't show such weakness in front of everyone. Once he was close enough to see the figure inside, the beautiful face framed by golden blonde hair…

He bit his trembling lip before laying a rose next to Francis' cold hands. His legs started to shake. Looking back into the other's face only made the situation more real. It wasn't some horrible nightmare. He wasn't going to wake up and have Francis wrap his arms around him to comfort him. No, Francis was really gone and lying in that casket.

The Briton felt a tear fall down his face, followed by several more. He blinked them away but then his throat constricted painfully and a dry sob left his mouth. He tried to cover his mouth so that others wouldn't have to hear him. But it was too late. Arthur fell to the ground beside the coffin, his knees giving out on him. He started to cry, trying and failing to stop. All he could think of was the coming days without Francis, without his friend and lover.

Arthur felt a hand on his shoulder. He heard voices, but he ignored them. All he could see was Francis lying in the casket, cold as stone, never to smile at him again. Then someone tried to help lift him up and he snapped back to reality. He lashed his hand out, glaring at everyone surrounding him.

"Leave me the fuck alone!" he snapped, his voice cracking. "Just…Just go. You've paid your respects."

"Arthur…" Alfred tried to get closer, but Arthur shook his head.

"I want to be alone."

Nobody argued with him then and they all silently left, leaving Arthur alone. He stood up shakily and looked down at Francis once again. He let his hand caress the stubbly cheek, to brush some hair away. His eyes watered again as tears started to fall. "I hope you're happy, frog," he whispered. "I'm actually crying for you." He sniffed and bent down to press a kiss to the other's forehead. "I…I loved you, you know. Never got to tell you before…well, what does it matter now anyway, right?" His laugh turned into a sob.

He looked back towards the sky and felt a raindrop land on his cheek. The clouds seemed to open up then, drenching him and the casket. Arthur smiled solemnly and closed his eyes, letting the rain wash over his body.

It had been such a beautiful day.

*crawls into corner of woe* ;~;