Arthur looked up from his place at the couch. The doctor told him to rest a lot and take his medicine but the Brit was bored out of his mind. If he could only go outside or do something useful. But no.. He couldn't because he was having a balance disorder. His legs refused to move probably and his sight kept getting fussy every bloody time he moved his head or even moved at all.

Yes, Arthur hated the position he was in right now. He disliked having to rely on someone for the entire week. He couldn't even go to the toilet by himself!

"Angleterre~!" England let his head fall back on the couch by hearing his name called out in French. Arthur let out a small groan as his sight blurred. There was only one person who called him Angleterre.. Francis Bonnefoy.

"What is it.." He answered the man's call. He swore the moment he's able to walk again he will kick the frog out of his house. He heard footsteps in the hall and the French man walked in the room with a bright smile.

"'ow are you feeling, mon petit lapin" Arthur huffed at the nickname not even feeling like putting up a fight. Francis placed a cold hand on his forehead, making Arthur shiver softly. After a few seconds the older man pulled his hand back, making the Brit moan at loss.

"I see you are still in the same condition as yesterday." Arthur took a hold of the Frenchman's cold hand and put it back on his head to soften his headache. Francis blushed slightly at the others behaviour.

"Hand me your other hand." Francis reached out with his other hand, which Arthur happily took and placed it in the back of his neck. He closed his eyes and moaned again at the cold hands on his warm skin, causing Francis to chuckle.

If the English man wasn't sick and having a balance disorder Francis would have taken him right there on the couch.

After a moment of enjoying the others cold hands, Arthur let go of them. Arthur looked down at the plaid he was lying under.
"Arthur? Is something wrong" Arthur shook his head slowly, making his sight all blurry. He groaned and let his head fall back on the armrest. "Arthur?" The Frenchman sounded truly worried.

The English man swallowed his pride and looked at the man who has been taking care of him for the past few days. "I-I need to use the bathroom.." He blushed furiously at his own words.

Francis only nodded at the Brit's statement and lifted him from his place on the couch. The plaid fell off the boys slender form as the Frenchman carried Arthur bridal style to the small room in the back. Carefully he placed the younger man on his feet again in front of the door.

Afraid to fall, Arthur takes a strong hold of Francis his shirt. He uses the man as a support to wobble over to the toilet. Before closing the door behind him Arthur muttered a soft 'Thank you'.

Arthur knew he had to thank the man. For the past few days Francis had been there for him. Carrying him from place to place. Helping him to get out of bed, making food for him and yet.. Arthur hadn't thanked the man once because his pride had been taken from him and Arthur bloody Kirkland didn't know how to cope with it.

"Angleterre.. Call me when you're done, I'll carry you back to the couch.." Francis said softly. Arthur waited for the man to walk away and sat down on the toilet. His head in his hands try to steady his vision. Thank you so much.. Frog.


Just a small drabble.. If you liked it please leave a comment.
Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it.