Hello there, writer here. This is a FrUk (France x England) fanfiction for the anime Hetalia. They're obviously human in this. There's not much I can tell you without giving up the surprise. I will tell you this, if you're not one for feels, you probably shouldn't read this.
Francis Bonnefoy was handsome Frenchman with a flamboyant fashion and personality. He was wearing a lavender dress shirt, the top three bottoms undone to allow his chest to show. To match his shirt, he had black slacks on with black dress shoes. He sitting at the airport awaiting his flight when someone suddenly slammed itself down beside him, grumbling things under it's breath.
Looking to his side (after recovering from a small heart attack), he smiled slyly, "Would you like a seat?" He asked in a teasing tone, poking the other's cheek.
The man beside him tilted it's head to the side to give Francis a nasty glare. "Buzz off, frog!" The British man, Arthur Kirkland, spat out at him as it shooed away the paler hand.
Francis let out a chuckle and decided to drop the subject. Looking around, he frowned slightly as people around were staring at him. With a sigh, he looked back at his lap and resumed being quiet. He held back tears that caused his vision to blur and forced his breath to remain steady but it was hard. It hurt so much.
Arthur Kirkland was a British man, close in age of Francis. It was more of a 'gentleman' than Francis, always in a green sweater vest with a white button up shirt underneath and a green tie. Tan khakis and brown shoes to complete the look.
Once the plane arrived to take them back to France, the duo got up, Francis got his carry on then walked through the gate. The plane trip was short and quiet (besides a small child crying the whole time.) It took some time for Francis to retrieve his luggage then find his car. After having it parked somewhere for a week, he has trouble finding it, but was reminded by Arthur. The drive back to Francis' house was a quiet one, with the radio on low.
"Arthur, what would you like to do, hm?" Francis suddenly asked when they pulled into the driveway of his house. With no response, he sighed and stared at the seat Arthur had been sitting in then looked at his lap. I'm losing my mind, cher Dieu...I need help. But, it's not that bad. It's like a dream coming true... He thought to himself then let out a halfhearted chuckle and climbed out of the car then got his things. "Alright. We can go out to dinner." He claimed then entered the house.
His house was a pleasant living area. The kitchen was enough to give away that he had a fair amount of money. Natural geology polished porcelain with Namibian gold granite counter tops, stained oak cabinets, and a stainless steel sink. Francis walked to his bedroom and collapsed onto the bed, dropping the luggage onto the floor by the door.
His room was a different story than his kitchen. Crimson walls, large walk-in closet, a black La Rochelle Antique French Wardrobe, polished floor boards, a small diamond chandelier, and a king sized bed with black silk sheets.
He felt the familiar ice cold sensation spreading across his back as Arthur placed it's hand on his back. "Frog...Are you alright?" Francis pressed his face farther into the bed, his hands tightening, taking fistfuls of the bed sheets. Sighing, it leaned down to move some of the Frenchman's hair and twisting it around it's finger. "Francis, tell me what's wrong. You've been acting strange for a while now. A long time…"
"Nothing is wrong, mon amour~" Francis turned his head as he softly purred out the words. Smiling at the Brit, he slowly sat up, only to fall back and lay on his back. "Nothing at all." He looked at Arthur and was taken back slightly at the heartbroken expression that was returned to his smile. "Is there something wrong with you?"
"You're lying to me again." Arthur answered in a dull tone. "That's all you ever do...You always lie to me…" It stood up and crossed it's arms over it's chest when Francis sat up to comfort it. "You always look so upset but...You always just say that everything's fine. Why don't you tell me what's wrong?"
"But I'm not lying! I'm telling you the truth, nothing i-"
"It's been like this for five years, Francis!" A hate filled glare was sent to Francis. "Only a few days after our wedding! You always looked dreadful after our wedding, you pretended I didn't even exist! You never smiled, you never went out, you stopped doing anything! I don't even think we have electricity and if we do, you might as well cancel the bill since you haven't used a light or television or anything! Yes, it's gotten better since then but-!" Arthur let out a laugh and shook it's head, "You're just some crummy bastard! You don't care about anything but yourself! I-"
"That's enough!" Francis shouted, glaring at Arthur now. Arthur turned and looked at him bewildered. "That's enough of your tantrum! Stop acting like a child not getting what it wants now." He got to his feet and walked past Arthur, going to the doorway. "Please Arthur..." He reached to a chain that wrapped around his neck and pulled it out from inside his shirt. His sapphire eyes looking at the engagement ring that was held on it. "Leave me alone. I'm getting in the shower." He closed the door behind him and went into the bathroom.
Everything Arthur said was true. Well, everything but one thing. Francis never had people over, or visited any. He hardly laughed or smiled, and when he did it was hardly ever real. He never had lights on. In fact, he didn't even own a single light bulb in the whole house. After their wedding day, Francis stopped talking completely, shut out the world, had a breakdown, was put on antidepressants (a few weeks after that he was put on medication for schizophrenia.) His whole life was ruined. His only heaven crashed down earth and was broken to pieces, unable to ever be fixed. But Arthur was wrong about Francis only caring about himself. So wrong… He cared about Arthur than anything. That's what was making his life a living hell.
After a relaxing shower in scalding water, Francis got dressed, dried and styled his hair, covered his face in cover up and foundation, and covered himself in a thick amount of collagen that even made him feel sick. Getting the keys, he got into his car and headed to a nearby restaurant. People sidestepped from the Frenchman and covered their noses from his overpowering smell. He knew the collagen was the reason the people made it a task to stay away from him but he didn't care because it was worth it in his mind if it meant no one would touch Arthur.
Francis was placed at, to everyone's confusion, a table for two. When the waiter came over to him and asked for his drink. He ordered a drink with a heavy alcohol level to it, 'Whatever has the most alcohol,' to be exact, and a water for Arthur. The waiter walked off just as Francis' phone vibrated. He didn't really use his phone besides work purposes so he was extremely confused by the ringing. Standing up, he apologised to the others in the building and slipped outside.
His confusion only grew when the caller ID was one of his friends (well, before his meltdown of course). Pressing the 'answer' bottom, he put the phone to his ear. "Bonjour, Gilbert. Is there something you need?" He asked quietly into the receiver.
"Hallo Francis~" The thick German accent came through the phone, causing Francis to cringe slightly. "Yeah, Toni and I haven't seen you in ages. We're going out to a bar near my house to have a good time, how about you tag along?"
"Oh…I don't think that's a good idea. I'll have to turn down your offer, sorry Gilbert." Francis looked down at his feet as he leaned back against the restaurant.
"Francis, come on, no." Gilbert whined then let out a huff, "No. You don't have a choice this time. We've been offering to hang out with you for...forever now. No longer. You're coming along with us to the bar and that's it."
Francis sighed and shook his head, "Gilbert, I-"
"I'll come pick you up in an hour or so. Be ready." With that, the line went dead.
Francis stood there for nearly five minutes without moving before pushing off of the building and sighing. "Fantastic." He mumbled as he walked back inside and went to the front desk. "Excuse me," He got the attention of one of the waitresses, who pulled a slight face when Francis' smell punched her in the face. "I apologise, something came up and I have to leave now. Here is the money for the drinks I ordered," He pulled out a fistful of euros then went back outside.
Francis could tell that his day was only going to get worse now. Last time he went to a bar was during his breakdown, he got drunk every night and ended up having a one night stand with a different person every night as well. He didn't know how much alcohol he was going to be able to handle, especially if he's going out with Gilbert and Antonio, Antonio being another one of his other friend. He could also tell that Arthur was not going to be happy when it found out.