It all started nine years ago, when they were still in high school and when he was still head over heels for that frog. It had been his fault to start with, since their friends practically knew they would start dating, but he made the wrong decision, and it ruined his life.

"Just admit it already that you love him." Alfred cut through his train of thought, slurping an extra large bottle of bubble tea and carrying boxes of greasy take-out in a plastic bag.

They were walking home, and the American was crashing over for the night as he didn't want to return to his hotel since his brother and the annoying lover of his brother had occupied the room. Arthur brought up the topic unintentionally through a discussion of the happy past they had before Arthur moved to the States. Happy as in sarcasm.

"I loved him." Arthur corrected. "I've moved on."

"Sure you did." Glasses laughed. "Or else why would you still keep that fair share of love letters he'd sent you?"

"That doesn't mean anything, I could've simply forgot that I still had those." The Brit said.

"You sound awfully like one of those stories about love birds in denial." Alfred adjusted his glasses with the hand that held the bubble tea and muttered a "shit" when it spilled a little on his clothes.

Yes, it all started nine years ago. The two had even joked that they were gay and happily married when Francis was running away from his pursuers of love. Those had been the days.

The conversation came to a stop as they reached Arthur's apartment building, where he dropped the groceries he held and took out his keys and opened the door. They went in, taking the elevator up to the third floor and then waited for Arthur to unlock his apartment that was the first door to the right.

But Alfred, still being the dumb kid who couldn't read the atmosphere, said, "If you'd really moved on, then I imagine you would've found someone else already. You aren't ugly to the point that you can't find someone to replace him after nine years." he jokes at the last part.

Arthur was itching to kick the nonchalant man, but he was sure he got his point across when, just a tiny bit, he saw the American back away at the icy glare he sent him.

"Drop it." He deadpanned, and Alfred managed a quick nod. They stepped in and Arthur hung their coats. It was still early January in New York and boy were they cold.

"Want tea?"

"Not really. Do you have coffee?"

"No."

"What about hot cocoa?"

"No."

"Come on! You barely have anything!" Alfred dropped himself on the leather couch and complained, earning himself a look of disapproval as he hooked his feet up to the armrests and put his hands behind his head.

Arthur sighed, and shoved the bag of boxed take-out in the other's face. "Just shut up and eat your bloody food."

And it was night, a snowy night in New York. The white flakes barely touching the roads before it melted into nothingness and left only an almost invisible wet droplet of water that quickly disappeared amongst the other drops. And briefly Arthur wondered how long it would take for the city to be covered.

"I remember that big bro moved back to France after graduating high school." Alfred said through a mouthful of food.

"Stop calling him that, or just stop talking about him already!" Arthur hit the American upside the head before he walked over to brew tea.

"But don't you actually want to see him again?" He grinned innocently and stuffed in another forkful of greasy food.

"Of course not! Who would want to see that bloody fuck?" Arthur retorted, pouring boiled water onto the tea bag. He set the cup back on the saucer and stirred in sugar and milk.

"You?"

The American was kicked in the face.

Hours later, Arthur finally managed to convince Alfred that it was okay to return since Matthew had probably finished...whatever he was doing with his boyfriend. He sat down in the kitchen chair, staring at the cup of cold tea he had brewed after Alfred had left and was completely clueless in what he should do. That was right, nine years ago his life had been ruined completely by a certain frog, who disappeared afterwards. Well, maybe not ruined, but he'd changed the Brit's life and turned it upside down. He still regretted meeting Francis, but nothing could be done about that as he desperately tried to regain his original balance.

And just then, his phone rang, and it'd be an understatement to say he was surprised to hear the ringtone. The ringtone of the number he'd thought had changed years ago but kept in the contacts anyway, lost amongst the numbers.

And he was hesitant to pick up, but he did, thinking this was just a coincidence.

The soft greeting he heard, was never to be forgotten.

"Hello, cher. It's been a long time."

Okay. I might not have had the time to add on an author's note at the time I published this, so why not now?

First story on Fanfiction, hope it'll work since it's quite different from ao3 and wattpad to which I've been accustomed for years. Not my first time writing FrUK, but technically it is if you count the fact that it's on this website. I used to write spamano a lot and always liked to add in others, and before this it was often USUK but I got converted by a friend.

Anyway, this story won't be epically long, just a dozen or so chapters if I'm making my proudest estimate here (it's not always correct so be prepared). I'm still trying to fit this into my schedule, but a guess is an update every Sunday if I really push it. I might have to readjust in the future since this isn't priorly planned, and I always love things like schedules. But bah! Why am I even writing this? Y'all probably ignore author's notes like I did when I was young.

-Rui