Hey guys! This is a short one shot I came up with inspired by the massive storm which I almost just died driving home in
Just so you guys know, I have not and will not abandon any of my stories. But with less than 7 months until my wedding day planning has really officially begun, and my God I swore I would be easy going and laid back about this whole thing but once you actually get started it's a whole different story x-x *cue bridezilla mode* so over the next six months or so I shall be quite busy and my updates may be a bit sparse, but I won't give up I swear.
I own nothing. Enjoy my lovelies ^^
Boom!
Thunder crashed and shook the very foundation of the large ornate house, jolting France out of his peaceful sleep. He huffed, irritated, and turned over on his back, glaring at the ceiling as if he could somehow send his anger to the sky and make the storm come to an abrupt halt; after all, he was far too gorgeous to miss out on his beauty sleep just because the clouds were on an angry rampage.
All he got for his troubles was a bright flash of lighting and another even louder crack of thunder; he sighed heavily and pressed his face into his pillow, groaning softly.
It seemed beauty sleep wasn't on his agenda for that particular night.
He shifted slightly and sat up, looking out the window, though he couldn't make out much given that it was around midnight. He started to get up quietly, not wanted to disturb his lover who lay beside him, curled into a ball under the blanket, but jumped slightly at a third crash of thunder that hurt his ears and shook the paintings that hung above the headboard. However, he wasn't paying attention to them; for when said thunder crash occurred there had been a small but distinct whimper of fear from underneath the blanket. Not only that, but as he looked closer he could see the hidden form trembling ever so slightly. Francis smiled to himself a bit; how cute that his angelterre was afraid of the storm and was trying to hide it. Storms like this one didn't occur very often in France, so although the two had been living together for several months, this was the first time France had become aware of his partners apparent phobia.
Of course Francis wanted to comfort his beloved, and he would, but here he had a perfect opportunity to poke fun at the blonde Englishman and well, he wasn't about to pass that up. Without warning he ripped the blanket from Arthur, who shrieked and jumped about two feet in the air, then proceeded to glare at the Frenchman. "What the bloody hell was that for you frog?!" He yelled per usual, though his voice wasn't quite as steady as it normally was.
Francis couldn't help but snicker softly as he shrugged his shoulders and let the blanket drop to the floor. "I don't know, mon amour, I just wanted to know if you were awake."
Arthur harrumphed and crossed his arms over his chest, now directing his scowl at the wall. "Very funny." He muttered. The sky chose that moment to boom with thunder yet again, and though he tried very hard not to, Arthur flinched and squeezed his eyes shut, curling in on himself a bit. How he hated his uncontrollable fear of storms; it was so humiliating to have his lover find out in this way.
Francis sat down beside him on the bed and placed his hand gently on Arthur's shoulder. "Afraid of the thunder, mon cher?"
England scoffed. "Of course not, I just, um, it hurts my ears."
Francis sighed and shook his head. "Really? Is that the best you could come up with?"
"Oh shut it!" Arthur retorted. Then came the brightest flash of lightning and loudest boom of thunder yet, both at the same time, and before he even realized he was doing it, Arthur had screamed and practically flew into his lover's arms, cowering against his chest.
Francis immediately wrapped his strong arms around Britain's shoulders and stroked his hair lightly with one hand. "Still not scared angelterre?"
"Just shut up already." Came the muffled and shaky reply. Francis smiled and kissed the top of his beloved's head.
"You know sir Britain, it is okay to be afraid of something; we all have fears."
"Oh really?" Arthur countered. "Well then what's yours?"
Francis thought for a moment, then looked at his partner seriously. "Rejection, and being ignored."
Arthur was taken aback; he hadn't expected a serious answer. He didn't guess fears were something the pair discussed much, but he could see that in his lover; the fool, did he not realize how beautiful he was? Arthur pressed his lips gently to his Frenchman's then smiled lovingly at him.
"You are far too wonderful for any of that to happen; you needn't worry my dear."
Francis smiled and kissed his lover once more. "As are you, mon amour." He then turned and looked out the window. "It would appear the storm is passing."
Arthur nodded. "Good. And, uh, thank you." He mumbled, fidgeting and trying to hide the deep blush that colored his cheeks. Francis laughed at his apparent embarrassment and kissed his forehead, then reached down to grab their blanket off the floor.
Toujours, mon cher, I am always here for you." He draped the blanket over the two of them and laid down on his side, pulling Arthur to his chest and wrapping the smaller man in his arms; Arthur happily obliged and snuggled into Francis's chest, sighing in relief as he could finally safely relax.
"Bonsoir, angelterre. Je t'aime."
"Goodnight darling, I love you too." England murmured before quickly drifting off to sleep, Francis following swiftly behind him.
Can we say cliché? Or at least that's how I feel about this particular piece. But, enjoy it and leave me a review anyway? This is my first attempt at FrUk so I hope I did some justice. And with that I bid you all goodnight, everyone have a safe and wonderful evening/morning/afternoon/ whatever you're having on your side of the globe.