Glad to have something finally up here! Well, this is a start of a long story. Hopefully I can come up with a good title for it by the time I get the next chapter posted.
It was just a normal day, he had to convince himself this. Meeting Arthur for lunch was nothing special for either of them, Francois knew this. They had known one another for so long, so many years next to one another and they had been so close, as close as two enemies could be. It couldn't be friendly between them. They are incarnates, living representations of nations. Their bosses were in charge, however, they could live their own lives apart from their nation's actions. Just live as civilians. This is what Francois and Arthur had planned for today.
A small cafe was the meeting location for lunch. The representation for England, Arthur Kirkland, was early. Always a prompt gentleman, he had to be on time. For today, he had decided to be early, eager to see his companion. Also, to hopefully snark at Francois for being late. He set himself up with a warm cup of tea, idly stirring it. He was tempted to go ahead and order the sweetened coffee he knew Francois would.
Ah, Francois Bonnefoy, the representation of France. A beautiful country and a beautiful man, things Arthur wouldn't dare admit out loud. He wished he could, but pride and knowing that Francois didn't return the feelings kept him from it. The flirty lines Francois spoke were frequent and meant nothing. Touching had been banned long ago by Arthur himself. He was certain Francois only saw him as a friend, nothing more but possibly less.
Arthur sipped his tea and checked his watch then glanced around the inside of the cafe and through the window to the outside streets. No sign of the man. Late, as expected. "He better not stand me up."
Stand Arthur Kirkland up? Not possible. Francois would never. He was anxiously anticipating seeing him again, for once outside of a work meeting. They seemed to fight at those frequently. Francois normally started the playful banter and Arthur didn't seem to have a funny bone in him for it, turning it into a legitimate argument. Oh, Francois loved to tease the man, but he was sadly certain that Arthur saw it only as insults that were only to show a distaste for him. His food, yes, but him? No. He had no distaste for the British man.
Francois slid into the cafe - late, but not on his own accord - and paused to search for Arthur, scooting over to him once he was spotted. He plopped down in the seat across from him, placing his chin on his hand and turning up the charm with a smile. "Bonjour, mon cher~"
"I am not a 'dear', Francis." Arthur set his tea down and offered a small smile back. "It is lovely to see you too."
"It is a term of endearment, cher." Francois smirked and laughed at Arthur rolling his eyes.
"I am very well aware, dear." Arthur raised a brow, sipping his tea. "Would you like something to eat or drink?"
"Are you offering to buy?"
"Of course not. I am buying for only myself. You pay for your own." Arthur scoffed, looking around for a waitress to summon over.
Francois pouted, watching Arthur scan for a waitress. He wanted, for just a moment, for those beautiful green eyes to turn to him and meet his gaze. They didn't.
The waitress swung over to them and Arthur asked for a refill of his tea before he looked to Francois, who had switched to looking up to the waitress. He rolled his eyes, listening to the Frenchman order, of course, sweetened tea followed by compliments to the waitress. At first she seemed put off but he was only asking about her name, what it meant, and all that jazz. Please, it wasn't anything special. It was just a regular name. The compliments were gradually swapped to her eyes, regular dark brown eyes that weren't even lit with humor, never mind friendliness and passion.
Passion. What he would give to see that fire in those deep blue eyes that were turned up to the waitress, watching her leave. Those eyes that he was trying not to get lost in, that he had only seen pure adoration in so long ago.