Man, first time writing really, I'm just doing so to pass time and such, though I will be carrying this story on and watch out for my next chapters. I rated it M since it will be getting very hot -chuckles- I'm writing this with someone in mind ~ x

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The distant cries of birds fleeing from the barren field can be heard like a loud whisper, mixing with the whirring sound of the wind as it brushes past Arthur's ears softly. It seems to comfort him, keeping his breathing at a mellow rate, eyes still clamped shut as the breeze now weaves through his messy blonde hair. The noise of the birds seems to scatter and now are just distant, the only company is the long uncut grass that brushes against his legs, causing his brows to furrow in annoyance at the slight tickling.

He needed to pay his full attention to his mind, his soul... to become calm and even, like laying all your worries out and storing it away so all he thought of was the one thing he had yet to do. Now, it was silent, he new it was time. Arthur's eyes shot open, the sun still hidden behind the mass of white clouds that filled the sky still hurt his eyes as they adjusted to the brightness, though his intentions were fixed on the slightly scruffy football that was around six metres away from him, sitting at the start of a slightly overgrown football field that sat near his mansion. He was dress smartly (if a football uniform is smart) in his new England football kit that he ordered after his frantic search for it, as he was such a fan for his own country. Arthur grunted, suddenly shifting from his spot as he lunged for the ball that was settled in the grass, pulling his foot back as he drew near before he swung it harshly, waiting for the moment when his foot made contact with the ball. As it did, Arthur had his eyes squeezed shut, though opened them to see what his magnificent kick did. Smiling, he looked around, though the smile soon returned to a frown in a split second as he saw the ball was not in sight. Arthur, now dazed, turned on his heel to see if the ball and run off somewhere else, though the hairs on his neck started to stand on end, which of course meant something bad was about to happen. Quickly shooting his head up to the direction of the sky, the ball was plummeting down towards him, of course Arthur just gaped at it as it smacked him in the face, softly landing on the ground and rolling away near the rusty goal post.

"Shit! Fucking twat of a ball you, bloody imbecile!" Arthur wailed in agony as he held his face in both hands, soon falling on his knees as he curled up pathetically. The ball had smacked his bare skin and bumped his nose which always hurt more than it seemed. He rubbed the red patch that seemed to be appearing on his forehead, and stroked his nose as he whimpered, cursing very crude and impolite things to the ball. If the ball had been alive, it probably wouldn't of been very happy with the things that were spilling from his mouth.

Arthur really couldn't believe such a thing had happened! He had a clean shot at the ball and it should of just amazingly hit the back of the net like every professional could do, though it decided to act like a twat and do the opposite to what he wanted. Arthur, huffing in annoyance pulled himself up from the spot that had now created an indent of his small body that curled up on the ground. He had spent most of his morning dragging the stupid goal post out of the garage so he could mess around and now it was ruined, mainly because Arthur had such a short temper, and new he would need the rest of the day to cool off from the unexpected happening. Lazily trudging back through the grass and damp patches of mud, he now pondered over what tea he should have left in his cupboard. It was nice since tea always softened him up like a sponge dipped in water. After letting himself into his house, he had kicked off his slightly mucky football boots and was now sat with his legs up on his soft coffee coloured sofa with a hot mug of coco, since his favourite tea had run out and chocolate was nice to have every so often. He softly blew on the surface, sighing as he noticed how quiet everything was and how barren he suddenly felt.

Arthur had always lived by himself since he was sixteen and was able to move out, since other people just always found ways to piss him off to no extent. His father who owned a very popular tea company that distributed many kinds of tea was filthy rich and ended up kicking little Arthur out, letting him pick any house he wanted. Arthur just picked a huge house near the sea surrounded by greenery and fields. It was what he loved the most ,being in a calm and relaxing place so no one could get on his nerves and set him off on some stupid cursing rampage. He loved taking strolls along through the fields and then by the coast line as it was a twenty minute walk away. Arthur clutching onto his mug, suddenly felt the heavy weight that longed to be notice drop down in his chest and was starting to weigh his emotions down. He needed someone. He was twenty three and longed for company, yet despised it so much that he just wanted to erase the word and meaning from existance. If only someone was understanding enough, so desperate for Arthur that they won't mind him being rude and annoyed all the time. If only someone like that existed and wanted to love him...

"I hate all of this soppy shit!" He exclaimed loudly, his words echoing through his barren house as he aggressively shoved the mug to one side, the chocolate now split and making a circle around the mug on his coffee table. Arthur couldn't care less, cursing to himself as he thought about how he could even dream of such an idiotic thing. He quickly grabbed his England hoodie, pulling it on over his football top, shoving his house keys into his pocket he shot out the door, letting the door shut by itself as he received his ball and started running through the field and jumping over a fence. Sudden urges of energy shot through his body as he hurried along a path through the field he was now in, jumping over big clumps of grass with sudden woops of enjoyment as he clutched to his football tightly. He could already smell the salt sea air mixed with the fresh scent of cut grass that lingered calmly around, though caused Arthur to sneeze lightly a few times.

Once Arthur reached a nice area of flat ground, on a cliff by a deserted beach, he grinned and set his ball down on the ground. The salty air was refreshing, cleansing all his doubtful thoughts, and no one was around which was even better! Arthur quickly was dribbling the ball across the field, kicking it away from the cliff edge and cheering when he pretended he has scored a goal every time he did so, imagining he was in the actual England team, being praised by all the cheering fans and getting loads of attention from people. The biggest grin was now spread across his face, beaming as he looked up at the sky, collecting the ball from the made up goal and kicking it again, though the ball did not go into the goal but bounced off of a large boulder and flew past him. He was slightly relieved it did not come and hit him in the stomach, but it was now dangerously rolling towards the cliff edge. Arthur gasped, sprinting towards the edge to receive the ball, though in his desperate attempts to grab it, he nudged it and it rolled gently off of the cliff. Arthur gaped, not believing he had just done such a stupid thing! He needed to get his ball back, he loved it so much and it was the only one he had in the house. Also, he really did not want to venture into the city to buy a new one.

Quickly scrambling over to a footpath, he raced down the side of the cliff until he was safely down on the soft sand. The studs in his boots were sinking into the ground, creating funny looking markings every time he stepped. It was amusing, but he had to now find his ball. Arthur darted down the beach, sand flicking up with most steps he took. He whipped his head around, though he could not see his ball, though he saw something else. It was large! Bigger than him, and lying face down... it was... a person! Arthur gasped, approaching the person slowly until he was a few metres away from the body. He was not wet, very nicely dressed! He looked foreign though Arthur could only see the back of his head which was covered in long blonde curls that settled on his shoulders softly. Athur felt embarassed by this man when he noticed his ball settled near him in the sand. How distressing! Arthur had knocked this poor man out because he was stupid enough to play right by the cliff edge. Arthur now moved closer and knelt by the still body. He was so tempted to thread his fingers through the gorgeous blond hair, but didn't because well he was a stranger and he may just be sleeping, though by the dents in the sand near the body, it looked like he fell. Breathing becoming ragged, he pushed the body over so he was now on his back. Arthur did blush heavily when he looked down at the face of the foreigner. He looked like an angel peacefully sleeping, his face showing no sign of disturbance. His face looked so touchably smooth and his lips seemed so healthy and kissable...

Arthur literally smacked himself there and then and the sudden thought, like a wave that hit you and sent you back into reality. "Stupid fucking lonesome asshole you..." He cursed, though his voice drifted off. He was turned away from the man, and suddenly felt a firm hand on his ankle, squeezing softly. Arthur's breath suddenly ceased as he turned to face the figure who was now sitting up. "Ahhh your words are so alarming mon petit monsieur." The foreigner spoke, his voice so gentle and alluring.
But Arthur only stared ,suddenly grimacing and muttering, "A frenchie, great."