A/N: This is a small story about Arthur Kirkland (England) and Francis Bonnefoy. This is chapter 1, there won't be too much uploading for now, but there will be more chapters.
(c) Hetalia - Hidekaz Himaruya
Rated K : Emotional content
I couldn't believe what he had just said to me
He gave up
What am I supposed to do now?
"Wh…What?"
"I'm sorry, Angleterre."
And left. Without another word. HE left him there, all alone, with no one to ease his misery. He couldn't believe that his friend, his best friend, his SOULMATE, had just given up.
After everything they've been through, just when they had resolved everything, just when they were both finally at peace, HE gave up. Tears soaked his face, the face HE had called beautiful. And then walked away. With nothing to say.
He couldn't think of any reason why HE just simply gave up, why HE did what HE just did.
Walked away.
Gave up.
Leaving him speechless.
Leaving him alone.
In the night, where darkness could devour on his broken, sad soul.
Crying, he couldn't come back to himself. He felt distant from the rest of the world, from every person alive on the planet. Without HIM, he couldn't live with himself.
[3 days before]
"Oh mon dieu! Stop acting like a child!"
"I'm acting like a child? Well, at least I don't run around wearing a little cape like a superhero!"
"It's a cloak!"
"I'm sorry, but are you implying that there's something wrong with the way I look today?"
"Well if you consider looking like a hobo living in a cardboard box, then you look fantastiques."
"Frog!"
"Dudes!" yelled Alfred, sick of all of all of their ranting, "Can you try to get along for once? I mean, your guys' war is over and I certainly don't want to be in the middle another one, especially after the time before that war in 1812 where I CLEARLY had declared neutrality and you guys completely ignored that fact."
"Sorry Alfred," replied Arthur, "But it's quite hard living with someone like Froggy-Face here that you've been forced to know for such a long time…"
Interrupting, Francis states, "Well maybe I wouldn't pick on you so much if you tried a little harder to look better. I mean, how can you even walk through such magnificent cities, like Paris of course, dressed in such a manner that it's impossible to look at you without having something rude to say?"
"How can I go walking through public dressed like this? How can YOU walk through public in your ridiculous costume?"
Alfred sighs at how two people cannot stop fighting over such silly little things.