Arthur Kirkland couldn't help but think of his past relationship whenever it was rainy out.

After all, he was dumped outside in the rain by his long time boyfriend Francis Bonnefoy.

Today, the flashbacks started almost instantly when the raindrops started pattering down onto the patio outside of Arthur's home, and he had to sit down to take it all in, physically pained by it all...

Francis stood in front of his mirror as Arthur lay on his bed, flipping through a book. Looking up, obviously irritated, Arthur asked, "Are you almost done, frog? We were supposed to meet up with Alfred and Matthew ages ago!"

The blue eyed French man looked at him from the corner of his eye, "I'm trying to figure out whether I should go with my hair up or my hair down, but both look so magnifique on me!" Francis stroked his stubble thoughtfully, carefully pulling all his hair together at the nape of his neck and making a face at himself.

Arthur thought his boyfriend was completely too conceited. He looked fine. He always looked fine. In fact, to Arthur, he looked perfect!

That was not enough for Francis, it seemed.

Turning, Francis gave Arthur an exasperated look, "Aren't you going to tell me which looks best?"

"I don't care if your hair is up, down, fashioned in a mohawk, or slicked back like Ludwig Beilschmidt's. You look stunning as you are." The Brit replied blatantly. He sat up, dog earring a page in his book and placing it down carefully. He knew his words probably wouldn't mean much to his boyfriend, but maybe it would get him to hurry the bloody hell up.

"Aw, mon amour, you're words are the sweetest. But, we must fix this dilemma tout de suite!"

That statement had Arthur on his feet instantly, approaching the busied Frenchman. He wrapped his arms around Francis' waist, burying his face in his fine smelling hair, "Francis Bonnefoy. You are far too vain for your own good."

Francis turned in the encirclement of Arthur's arms and they were face to face, Francis' long fingers gripping Arthur's belt loops gently and pulling the green eyed man closer to him. They looked into each other's eyes, Francis' holding warmth and Arthur's holding honesty and a little bit of annoyance.

Stubble brushed against Arthur's cheek as Francis kissed him, Arthur's hands snaking their way up to Francis' hair, combing through it gently.

It was because of Francis' vanity that he missed out on lunch with his brother on one of his rare visits…