Piano and exams have completely fried my brain. Hence why this story is short and shitty. I'm not really sorry for the vagueness; the italicised dialogue can be from whoever you want it to be. The title is shamelessly borrowed from my music theory textbooks, and Hetalia belongs to Himaruya.
Francis shook his head with a small smile. The sun shone warmly through the tall French windows, effectively contrasting the environment and the atmosphere. "No, you do not understand," he said, almost lovingly. "I do not hate you. I am merely afraid."
"What are you afraid of?"
He laughed then, a small tinkling sound quite unlike his usual chuckle. The light glinted sharply in his eyes and for a second, soft hydrangeas had transformed into cool slate. But the light shifted and crows' feet once again tread the corners of his eyes. "Surely you do not need to ask. It's hardly fair, you know, backing me into a corner like this. It's hardly fair." The words, though said with a light voice, hung heavy in the air.
"I've no time for your games."
"Then don't play them." Brave, brave, how very brave he was. Francis mentally clapped himself on the back for not pissing his pants. So very brave, yet so, so dumb.
"I mean it, Francis."
"Don't call me that," he hissed. It had come out inadvertently. Trust him to have no control whatsoever over his loose, loose tongue. Over the precipice we go, with no loose snag to keep us from the sharp rocks below. Sharp indeed, was the other's smile.
"What was that? How harsh of you, to withdraw first name rights so quickly. Fickle man."
Think, he urged himself as the other advanced towards him. Think, respond, run run run.
"I won't hurt you. Have I ever hurt you? What's there to be afraid of? Nothing, you'll see. You'll see."
Nothing indeed, thought Francis. His mind was completely blank.