Guess who doesn't own Hetalia! That's right, me!

.-*-.

Arthur knew he shouldn't have stared. That was the one rule beaten into his head by his grandmother, older brother, and everyone else that could See. "Never let Them know you're looking. If They know you can See They'll take your sight."

In all honesty Arthur expected him to leave then the now first started falling. Fey were seasonal, and migrated back to where ever they came from when their season wasn't to Court.

But he didn't.

He and that ridicules flower shop stayed open, and every day when Arthur passed that damned store to get to work he stared.

God only knows what he was thinking when he walked inside.

The creature behind the counter smiled at him as he entered.

"Bonjour."

Oh that was just his luck. A French fey.

But Arthur smiled and said "Hello" back, and proceeded to walk around the small shop, conducting himself as the gentleman his piercings hid.

"Have anything in mind? Perhaps for a special someone, oui?" The fey asked, getting way to close for comfort.

Arthur turned to him to ask him to kindly get the hell away from me when his eyes were drawn to the man's neck.

A collar made of thorns was wrapped around his neck, and Arthur knew he shouldn't be looking at it because if he was normal he wouldn't be able to see it at all, but the irritation, scratches and scars that were caused by said collar grabbed and held his attention.

"Is there something wrong with my neck?" the French fey asked before turning to the window, searching his reflection for whatever Arthur was staring at. As he ran his fingers up and down his neck he pulled some hair back behind his ear, revealing a delicate point. His hands didn't stray towards the collar.

Arthur growled as pity pricked his heart and reached into his bag.

The fey saw his movement, and when he saw Arthur pulling the garden shears out of his big the fey's hands rose protectively towards his hair.

Arthur ignored his movement and looped his finger under the collar, and with a very fast flash of flesh and metal clipped through the stiffened plant.

Arthur was already out the door before the fey could even process the fact that the collar was no longer around his throat.

The fey touched his neck, feeling skin he hasn't felt in a while, and winced at the pain.

Blue eyes flicked at the door, and with only the smallest hint of hesitation followed the other out the door.

.-*-.

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