Arthur shoved his key in to the lock, flipped it and opened the door. He furrowed his brow as he saw a letter on the floor. He took off his shoes and then picked the letter up. There was his name and address in it, wrote in very beautiful handwriting. The letter smelled familiar; roses, red wine and a little bit of aftershave. What was that smell? Arthur recognized the handwriting, but he couldn't remember whose it was. He sat on his sofa and started to read.

Mon dear Arthur,

It has been a really long time since we met last time, five years. I can't help myself thinking of you all the time, and I can say that it is painful. Remembering that fact that we were fighting about something unnecessary when we saw each other last time makes my heart hurt in terrible way. That's not the way I want to spend time with you, I don't want to fight with you. And I beg for your forgiveness. Whatever it was what we were fighting about, it was surely my fault. Please, pardon moi.
Have you ever thought about me? Have you forgotten me? If you have forgotten me, that's totally okay. I just want to say that I can't forget you. Even though we always used to spend our time fighting, I loved you all the time. And I still love every single part of you; your beautiful emerald eyes, messy hair, funny eyebrows, the rude way you always spoke to me…
Do you remember when we were kids? Like 5-year-old. We were absolutely best friends; we didn't fight at all, not ever. Then something happened. We were about 14-year-old when we started to argue about every little thing. That was also when I noticed that my feelings for you weren't only pure friendship. Was it my fault that our friendship was over? Was it my feelings that separated us?
I'm really sorry about telling this all so sudden. But I miss you. I miss you so much that I have cried for a month. You maybe remember that I didn't ever cry in front of you? But now I am crying. I'm looking awful, my eyes are red, I haven't gone outside for a long time... Merde, this yearning is making me crazy.
Arthur please, answer me. Let me know that you are okay.

Sincerely,

Francis Bonnefoy.

Arthur was shocked. A little, quiet tear fell down his cheek as he stared at the letter in disbelief. It was true that he had missed Francis as well, but he wasn't sure was he able to tell that to him; he wasn't really sure why he had missed him. It couldn't be love, right? Arthur took a pencil and a paper, starting to write.


Francis heard the letter drop clinking. He walked lazily to the vestibule and picked a letter from the floor. As he recognized the handwriting, his heart skipped a beat and a warm shiver ran down his spine.
- Mon dieu… He replied…

The Frenchman sat on an armchair with a glass of wine in his other hand as he started to read.

Dear Francis,

It's really nice to hear from you, although your confession made me shocked. But don't worry; I wasn't shocked for more than a little moment.
I think that I have missed you as well. There's no way I could forget you either. You are the most wonderful man I have ever met. I mean, I used to insult you all the time, and still you stayed by my side… Now I notice that you were much nicer to me than to anybody else. I just couldn't notice that it was love, not before this.
I want to thought what my feelings for you are, that is why I'm coming there to see you. Clean yourself up, I want to see you being as handsome as I remember. I'll be there when the letter has arrived.
See you soon.

Arthur Kirkland

A wide smile appeared on Francis' rosy lips. He quickly placed the letter on his table and made his way to his bedroom, changing his clothes. He brushed his long hair and tied it in to a ponytail. Then he heard the doorbell ringing.

As the door opened, Arthur lifted his look from the ground and met those shiny, deep blue eyes.

- H-Hello, the Brit muttered, slight pink blush appearing on his face as the other one gentle took his hand, kissing it.

- Bonjour, Arthur. It is a pleasure to see you.

The two sat on the sofa in the living room. They spoke about how their lives had been and what their friends were doing nowadays, of course Francis said something flirty and smooth as he got an opportunity. Arthur thought that the evening was perfect, he had been a little afraid that the Frenchman could have tried to do something to Arthur, but Francis seemed to be patient.

Arthur turned his head slowly to look at the clock which was on the wall. It was 11 pm, too late for him to get home in that day anymore.

- Francis… Can I stay the night here? he asked shyly.

- Oui, oui, of course. I'll show you the guestroom, Francis said with a friendly smile.

- I… I want to sleep next to you.

Francis was a bit surprised by the request, but of course he wasn't complaining, not at all. They made their way to the bedroom, undressed till they had only their boxers on and slipped under the cover. They just lied down quietly, knowing very well that both were still awake.

After a while Francis felt a body against his own. He turned his head and met Arthur's emerald eyes. He slowly wrapped arms around the Brit and pulled him closer.

Arthur didn't protest. It felt nice to be so close to the other one. The warmth of his body was so… comfortable. He leaned his head against his well-built chest, smile playing on his lips.

- Francis… I think that I love you too, Arthur muttered.

Francis reached his hand to lift Arthur's head a bit.

- I kind of noticed it already, he smiled and leaned in, pressing their lips together in a loving kiss.