HELLOOOOOOOO

This is based off of the song "Same Old Lang Syne" My Dan Fogelburg. It's one of my absolute favorite songs, and it makes me cry nearly every time..

lik if it maks u cri evry tym...

Sorry about that... back on track, I was thinking up plots for a New Years fic and this one just came to mind soo... yeah, I hope you like it! :3

(Also, very sorry to those that were following Hetalia Advent Calender...)

I DON'T OWN HETALIA

Clouds puffed from Arthur's lips, every breath smoke. Like a dragon. He thought.

He strolled into the grocery store, unraveling the scarf around his neck. Grabbing a basket, he headed toward the frozen foods.

As soon as he saw the blonde hair he knew. He didn't have to wait to hear a voice, a laugh, or even to see his face. He knew that hair. That hair he stroked time after time after time. That hair still looked as soft as it did then. I wonder if it still smells like it used to... like lilies and fresh bread.

Arthur started to walk towards him, then turned around, only to swerve back. He did this once, twice, three times more before finally touching his sleeve.

He didn't recognize his face at first, but then his eyes flew open wide. Francis went to hug him, but then the contents of his basket spilled all over the floor. Arthur leaped down to pick them up at the same time he did, and they bumped heads, falling backwards. Francis started to laugh first, then Arthur, and they continued to laugh until tears brimmed their eyes.

Arthur stood with him at the checkout. Everything was totaled up and placed neatly in bags. They stood there, speechless and embarrassed as the conversation dragged on.

"Umm, would you like to go for a drink? Catch up?" Arthur suggested.

Francis smiled. "Of course! You have a lot to tell me."

Despite this, they couldn't find an open pub, so Francis ran in to a liquor store and picked up a six-pack of beers to drink in his car.

They both popped their cans, raising the aluminum high.

"To innocence."

"To now."

They drank more, and started to talk.

"I married an architect." Francis said, looking Arthur straight into his green eyes. "He keeps me warm, safe, dry... I'd say I love him but... You know I don't lie."

More drinking.

"The years have been good to you..." Arthur stated. "Your eyes. They're still as blue." Though Arthur wasn't sure whether in those eyes he saw doubt or gratitude.

Francis nodded. "I've seen you. In the record stores. You must be doing good with your music."

He let out a sharp laugh that was more sarcastic than genuine. "The audience is heavenly, but the traveling is Hell..."

After a while, the beers were empty and their tongues were tired, and they were running out of things to say. Arthur bid Francis goodbye, and turned to get out of the car.

But Francis turned his face back towards him and kissed him. Arthur waited a few seconds before breaking apart and getting out, closing the door behind him and watching Francis drive away.

Just for a moment, he was back in school, and felt that old familiar pain, deep in his gut, bubbling in his stomach.

And as he turned to make his way back home, the snow turned into rain.