A/N: Hello, all! I apologise greatly for the extreme lack of updating. I haven't had a great motivation to write. And, to be honest, I have a sinking feeling that this little one-shot isn't going to be that great. DX I very much hope that I'm wrong.
I wrote this for the beautiful parttimetsundere, with whom I am currently RPing. This is meant to be a scene that could possibly slip into the RP (at some point), but it is also written so that it can be understood out of context. The part where Arthur mentions 'if anything bad happens' will probably be a slight mystery to anyone except parttimetsundere, but... that's because it's a reference to our RP. ^.^
At any rate, I hope you lot find this likeable.
In this one-shot, they're in college.
ALSO - the French is the work of myself, not an on-line translator. Therefore, any mistakes are my own. Any French speakers out there, please feel free to correct me. ^.~ (I don't speak French; I only read and write it. Very little, that is.)
French Guide:
le soleil = the sun
ton tournesol = your sunflower (NB for French speakers: I used 'ton' instead of 'votre' because I thought it implied a more personal feeling)
mon amour = my love
The tag on the sunflower reads 'To: le soleil / From: ton tournesol'. The tag is tied to the flower's stem with a very thin ribbon—perhaps three or four millimetres in thickness—of a crimson colour. The flower is laid on the vacant pillow beside Arthur's—that is, the sun's—head.
The sun is still asleep whilst his sunflower—metaphorical, that is— walks about to his side of the bed and sits beside the sleeping frame. His sunflower leans down and lightly kisses his cheek, flesh barely grazing flesh. The sun feels his sunflower's lips linger against his cheek, and he stirs slightly.
"Mmm... Francis," mumbles the sleepy sun as he reaches blindly for his sunflower's hand.
"Sshh. Go back to sleep, mon amour," his sunflower replies softly, taking the sun's hand in his and proceeding to kiss each of the sun's knuckles.
"Don' leave..."
"I have an eight o' clock class," the sunflower offers weakly, smiling sadly.
"Skive off."
This causes the sunflower to chuckle lightly. Then, "Do you really want me to skip?" After thinking for a second, he adds, "Well, it is History of Europe Since 1800..."
"Skip it. It's not political science, and it's not music. If anything bad happens, I'll deal with it."
The sun's sunflower smiles down at him before saying, "All right. You win."
It was then that the sun decided to turn over, and he noticed the flower lying upon the vacant pillow. His eyes widened as he took hold of it. "S'beautiful." Then, after reading the tag, he murmurs his sunflower's name longingly.
The sunflower leans down and pulls the sun into his arms. The sun wraps his arms about the sunflower, and the latter holds the former tightly. The sun buries his face into the sunflower's neck.
"The sunflower always turns to the sun. You're my sun, mon amour. Always."
But it was then that a significant moment took place, for the sun looked up at the sunflower and asked, "But how can I be the sun, if I'm the sunflower in comparison to you?"