Alright, so... this is my first ever published FanFiction. It's not the first fanfiction I've ever written, but this one is more recent.
I kinda liked writing this one, but I can't remember WHERE I got the idea to do it.
Hope you enjoy it!
With business and paperwork to attend to, Arthur had the unfortunate event of having to stay with Francis. They had to cooperate with each other to get valuable work done, something they weren't particularly fond of doing.
Arthur was off in the spare room dealing with documents from the Entente Cordiale while Francis was cooking supper for the both of them. Thank god Francis was the one who invited him over, if they went to Arthur's place the Englishman would've used the old 'I'm a gentleman and you're a guest so I should cook supper for us both' line so he could cook. Arthur was pretty quiet in his room, but every once and a while he would come out and get Francis to sign a paper or two. Put an initial here, sign your full name in another...
When Arthur came out for the 20th time, he noticed that the kitchen was silent. Not a noise to be heard. Which he found strange, because the Frenchman's cooking required there be sound. Whether it was the sizzling of meat in a pan and the 'tack tack tack' of a knife cutting vegetables, or it was simply Francis humming a 50s' tune, there was always sound.
"Oi, frog?" Arthur called out. When he got to the kitchen he was surprised to see that the older man was crying. He was wiping tears from his blue eyes with his sleeve.
"Frog? Are you bloody crying?" He asked. He set the documents down on the dining table, then hurried to him.
"What happened? Did you burn our meal or something?" He asked, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
He'd never seen Francis cry over food, but he guessed that he was being overdramatic here.
Francis shook his head. "Non... excusez-moi."
He grabbed a tissue and wiped his eyes.
"Oh bother... hmph. You're probably just acting overdramatic over a simple meal, but..."
Arthur suddenly wrapped his arms around the Frenchman, his hand moving up to run his fingers through his long hair.
"It's alright. It's just a meal, you can always remake it."
There was a pause between the two. They just stood together, taking in the silence. Arthur's face was a bright pink, but he was glad the frog couldn't see it.
"Arzur..." The Frenchman began.
"Yes?"
Francis pulled away and laid a hand on the Englishman's forehead, a worried look on his face.
"Are you alright? Do you possibly 'ave a fever?"
"What? No I'm fine, why the hell would you ask that?"
"You're acting weird, Arzur! Are you sick?"
He blinked, "N-No! I was genuinely worried about you! You were bloody crying!" He shouted.
A look of surprise came over Francis's face. His lips quirked, and he started to laugh. Arthur's pink face made him laugh harder.
"Why are you laughing?!" Arthur shouted.
"Silly lapin, I wasn't crying because I was upset. I was cutting les onions, for dinner."
He gestured over to the cutting board, where a knife was planted in the wood and onion was cut up.
Arthur stared at him, his eye twitching.
"Onions. You were chopping onions."
Francis nodded.
He then punched him in the face, sending him to the ground. He made him show some sincere affection!
"You idiot!"
They got into another infamous fight, with Francis laughing about how he got some affection out of the isolated Englishman.
The documents were never signed, and the onions remained unchopped.
Author's note:
Welp, that was the number one worst ending ever... but there you go! I hope it was alright!