FRUK - Argument
Fandom: Hetalia
Pairing: FRUK
Genre: Hurt/Comfort & Fluff
Summary: An argument gets a bit out of hand.
AN: Here it is; My first attempt at fanfiction in years. Also, the first one for Hetalia and the first one written in English. Enjoy!
It had started as a harmless fight; Just the usual bickering over petty little things. But then it turned serious, one thing lead to another and they ended up screaming profanities and hurtful words at each other. The last straw was pulled when Francis finally yelled:
"God, you're so insufferable! I don't even know why I'm still putting up with you!"
That stung.
It was a sensitive subject for Arthur. He was an insecure being to begin with because history has shown him that everyone just left in the end. Who would want him anyway? He was moody and bad tempered. And there was nothing really desirable about his appearance either.
"Yeah? T-then why did you ask me to marry you?!" Arthur snapped.
He was hurt and he didn't know how to handle this.
When Francis had proposed to him, it was too good to be true. He should have known it wouldn't last. After all, Francis was attractive and charming. He could have anyone he wanted. Of course it was just a matter of time till he would realize that he deserved better. Apparently that time was now.
There was a pause.
"I don't even know anymore. I must have been mental when I gave you that ring!"
Francis was just so fed up. This wasn't how it was supposed to be.
"Well, as if I'd want to get married to a frog like you to begin with!"
It was silent for a few moments, the only sound in the room their heavy breathing.
"You don't have to. Just give me back that ring." Francis stated calmly, expectantly holding out his hand.
A lump formed in Arthur's throat. Hesitantly, he fumbled a bit with his ring. He didn't want this. He didn't want it to end like this. But then again... He carefully pulled the ring off and slowly put it in Francis' waiting hand. He flinched and averted his eyes as the other practically snatched it away.
"See you at the next world meeting. Au Revoir!" The Frenchman said in a bitter tone as he turned around and left. The sound of the door being slammed shut rung in the silence.
A few moments passed and Arthur was still standing there, shell-shocked, letting sink in what just happened. When the realization finally came, he broke down.
This wasn't supposed to happen. Where did things go so horribly wrong? They were supposed to hug and kiss and cuddle and laugh together. After all, it's been quite some time since they were able to spend some quality time in each other's company. He would never admit it, but he had really been looking forward to this weekend.
The Brit couldn't deal with this. So he went to his cabinet and took out a bottle of scotch.
Meanwhile Francis went back to the train station, fully intending to get on the next train back to France. He would be stuck here for a little while longer though, because the train wouldn't arrive until about one hour later. So he sat there, waiting. The extra time gave him enough time to calm down and think about what just happened. Now the whole thing seemed a bit silly. How did a small fight about nothing escalate to this? They both were overreacting and he had the nagging feeling he should go back and apologize. But something held him back. He was quite hurt, because Arthur didn't even try to hold him back. He didn't defend their engagement. He didn't ask him to stay... Granted, it was a bit harsh to demand the ring back like that, but still... He took the ring out of his pocket, twirling it between his fingers. He remembered how he gave that ring to Arthur just about two months ago. How flustered the Brit was. How he didn't believe it at first. How happy he looked when he finally accepted that this was real. This break-up didn't make any sense. Just as the arrival of his train was announced, he made up his mind. He got up and called a cab back to the Brit's house.
"Arthur!" Francis rang the doorbell again. But no one opened the door. He knew that Arthur was home though. He could see the light through the windows. After a few more pointless tries to catch the attention of the house's inhabitant, he remembered that there was a spare key behind a loose brick next to the door.
He unlocked the door and carefully entered. Everything was quiet. Francis went into the living room where the soft glow of artificial light came from. He didn't know what he should make of the scene in front of him. There were empty bottles strewn around the couch. And there was England, half lying on the ground and half splayed over the coffee table; disheveled and out cold.
Francis went closer, kneeling down beside him, gently stroking his cheek. Where those tear stains? Now he felt bad about what he had done. "Angleterre." He tried to wake him up and get him to bed. Arthur grumbled a bit in his drunken sleep, but didn't stir. "Arthur, come on." He tried again - With no success. Francis sighed. Then he carefully lifted him up and carried him to the bedroom. As he was gently laying him down Arthur finally opened his hazy eyes just a bit. "Francis? 'That you?" he croaked, his alcohol muddled brain not really able to comprehend the situation.
"Of course."
Confused, Arthur stared up at Francis.
"Bugger, this must be a dream. This time I really did get smashed."
Francis halted.
"What makes you think that?"
"Because it doesn't make sense for you to be here. You left me." He said softly. "Why would you of all people stay? Why would anyone stay?"
A knot formed in the pit of Francis' stomach. Of course. He should have known. Arthur's insecurities and his fear of being left by the people close to him. He sat down and engulfed Arthur in an embrace, rocking him gently from side to side, whispering sweet nothings into his ear as he was holding him close.
"I'm sorry... I'm sorry. I didn't mean it." Arthur mumbled weakly into Francis' neck.
"Shh, I know. I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have let it escalate to this."
"But it's not your fault. I'm the one who's pushing everyone away."
"It's alright. That's just how you are. And I should have kept that in mind. I love you either way."
"R-really?"
Arthur could act like quite a child under the influence of alcohol (Usually whenever he got past the stage of 'angry drunk').
"Yes."
"Good... 'cause I love you too, frog..." He trailed off as he drifted back to sleep in Francis' arms. The Frenchman gently stroked Arthur's hair, smiling to himself. Then, he laid him back down and got comfortable himself, falling asleep soon after.
Francis woke up first. He carefully detangled himself from Arthur, and went to the kitchen to make breakfast. And some strong coffee. He knew that Arthur wasn't fond of the stuff, but it would help with the hangover he would most certainly have. When he was finished with setting the table, he grabbed the steaming cup and went back to the bedroom, where Arthur was stirring, irked by the sunlight seeping through his window.
"Urgh... Why do I feel so awful?" He muttered into his pillow.
"Ah, that would be because you went a bit crazy with the alcohol last evening, Mon Cher." He replied as he set the cup down on the nightstand.
"Bloody hell, what did I do that for? Urgh, never mind. Just close the bloody blinds already. My head is pounding."
Francis bit his lip and went to shut the sunlight out. Then he went back to the bedside and retrieved the cup he set there before. He carefully handed it to Arthur.
"Drink this. It'll help. When you get up and come downstairs you can have some aspirin too."
Arthur took a sip and put the cup down again, holding it between his hands. His eyes widened a bit as he caught sight of the empty spot on his finger.
"Francis..." he said in a pained tone, "Where is my ring?"
Francis reached into his pocket and took out the ring. He held it out for Arthur to take. But the other didn't reach for it. He just sat there, staring blankly at the thing.
"W-we had this fight yesterday..."
"Oui..."
Arthur looked anywhere but at Francis, making no move to take the ring back.
"Arthur? Just take the ring. It's still yours to keep, now and forever... Except... if you don't want it anymore..."
"O-of course I still want it. The question is... do you?"
"Of course. I've meant it when I asked you for a lifetime by my side. You know how we tend to push each other's buttons and overreact. But we'll always make up again after we cooled down. That's just how we work."
Seeing that Arthur was still insecure, he simply took the other's hand and slipped the ring back on his finger, where it belonged.
"Now come on. I made us breakfast." He said, offering a hand.
Arthur smiled and took it, but before Francis could pull him along out the door, the Brit stopped, pulling him back. He gave him a sweet and tender kiss, which was quite rare for him.
"I love you."
"I love you too, Mon Cher."
Francis gently hugged the blushing man in front of him. They stayed like that for a short while.
Then they went downstairs together. After breakfast, they continued the day just as they were supposed to. Cuddling, kissing, smiling and laughing. Well, as soon as Arthur got rid of his hangover anyway…