Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. All rights go to the original owner.
"So what are we planning on doing today?", Francis questioned the blonde Brit next to him. After receiving nothing but a shrug, he sighed. The preteen turned his head to get a glimpse of his usually grouchy best friend.
Seeing Arthur staring at the air ahead of him, he spoke," Anything? We could hang out at the old skate park after getting a few things to eat from the store. It's a nice, sunny day anyways,"
The younger boy scowled at the suggestion, almost immediately shaking his head to oppose. He detested spending days outside. He'd constantly give an excuse like there being too much sun, and wouldn't want to get burned. It gave a reasonable explanation as to why he was so remarkably white-skinned. Francis on the other hand, valued the heat and would've loved to stay in the light all day. Even after all that sun, he too managed to remain naturally pale.
The French boy pouted a bit in Arthur's direction," Oh come on! You're always like this. We never get to do anything outside anymore, you complain or deny when I ask!"
Arthur narrowed his eyes and turned his glower to Francis instead, not paying any more attention to the forgotten air.
"Are you insisting this is my fault? How am I to control my body's reactions to too much sunlight?", by then Arthur's face was practically rose-red with anger.
"You frog, I can't believe I still continue to put up with you,"
Francis knew his best friend was a short-tempered person whose fuse could be lit by even the slightest insult. He also knew that he had a fairly blunt personality and wouldn't hold back when aggravated. The older friend was aware of all that, yet he hadn't expected the sudden blow up that offended him so greatly. In fact, Francis was so hurt by the other's thoughtless words, tears began to well up in his violet eyes. Arthur simply glanced over at him and rolled his own emerald eyes, giving an irritated scoff.
"This is one of the reasons I just can't stand you at times! You're too emotional and somehow find offense in every little thing I say. Your sensitivity, it throws me off and annoys me to lengths I didn't even know existed!" ,Arthur's fiery temper rose even more as he blurted out what he truly felt toward his best friend. Hearing that, Francis let the salty tears plummet to the ground. He never would've ever guessed that someone who'd called him his closest friend could feel that way about him. Was he truly that infuriating to be around? By then Arthur was seething wrath and resentment. Witnessing the way Francis displayed all his emotion disgusted him, it was sickening.
Unable to contain that bottled up rage as the sobs grew louder, he shouted," Would you quit it with the crying? I can't seriously take in how weak you've become! I hate it! I hate it all! I hate you! I hate the thought of you, the sight of you, and I hate your pathetic existence!"
The room fell silent as Francis' almost deafening sobs ceased abruptly. His eyes were wide in horror as he stared up at the other boy. His eyebrows knotted in absolute shock and his lip quivered as his vision was blurred again by the tears he soundlessly let fall. Obviously Francis was taken aback at how Arthur seriously thought for him. He despised him, his very existence.
The older of the two never would've imagined that. Sure he knew that Arthur could be the most sarcastic person to live and you couldn't ever tell how he truly felt, but Francis was unable to process the fact that he didn't notice it. That he just brushed off all hints of that possible loathing that Arthur felt; he never gave a second thought to the endless insults that the other twelve year old threw. Yeah, they caused him just a sliver of emotional pain, but not once did he take them too seriously or give it much consideration at all.
Inaudibly, Francis rose from the black, leather couch that Arthur's family owned, his disheveled hair falling into his eyes, shading them. It was a great struggle to hold back the sobs that were choked back in his throat, but he was willing to refrain from doing anything that would cause Arthur to dislike him even more. So he headed for the door, keeping his eyes cast downward to the wood flooring. He didn't look back, knowing that if his ex-best friend saw those shameful tears, he'd just give him another hardened glare and anguish Francis even more. He rested his slender hand on the doorknob, almost reluctant to leave, but did so in the end.
Once outside, he pulled out his black phone, gripping it tightly, and called his mom. Arthur watched from the window as she came by and picked up Francis, evident concern in her eyes. Seeing that sight nearly made him regret all the terrible things he'd said to the French blonde. But he had an ego, a big sense for pride, and never allowed regret and other emotions to falter it. Besides, he could always somehow coax Francis into forgiving him the nest time they met. Francis was a softie with a big heart after all.
Little did he know, that he'd never see the closest person to friend he had ever again. For on their way home, Francis and his mother got into an accident. Another car had rammed into the side of theirs. They were sent skidding across the road, and the vehicle flipped. A crash like that is extremely dangerous, and in this case, fatal and deathly. When he heard what happened from his panic-stricken mother- who was very close to Francis' parents- he automatically knew they wouldn't survive.
Of course, being informed and aware of that news caused a great deal of insufferable pain on Arthur's account. He felt that he couldn't possibly live with himself and stayed locked in his room for hours on end. He rarely left, and when he did it was to either eat or use the bathroom. What can you expect? The only person who'd ever cared about him enough to put up with him outside his family was gone. What wounded Arthur the most however, was the fact that the last words Francis ever heard from him were ones telling him just how much he hated him, and it killed Arthur to know that.
