Arthur sat at his desk in his office, forlornly flipping his phone shut, then open again, trying to distract himself with the mindless motion. It didn't work. He still glanced at the screen for the hundredth time that day, his eyes still sought out the date.

It was amazing what a crushing ache a simple set of numbers could inflict upon his chest. Arthur snapped his phone shut again, chastising himself. He knew the numbers. He'd already seen the date so many times that day. He thought the shock would lessen. It should have, shouldn't it? But it didn't.

It was because it had been exactly seven months since October 24. It'd been seven months without Francis. Arthur told himself halfheartedly that they had been months of self- improvement and discovery. Accomplishments. He tried to believe it, but he knew he was just kidding himself.

He'd known Francis vaguely since he was small, but he'd only really known him for about two years. It had started on a hot night in early July, the air sweet with laughter and alcohol. One drink followed another… and another… and another. They had been so drunk, the drinks pulling Arthur out of himself and making Francis even bolder than usual. They'd been laughing at something stupid Francis had said. They looked at each other, and the laughter stopped, but it rang on in their eyes. Francis leaned in and they'd kissed, Arthur leaning heavily and wantonly onto the other. The kiss was hot. Messy. Frantic. Perfect. That one kiss started a hurricane.

Every day that followed was a haze of fire and emotion. Francis was so bloody infuriating. Pompous. Patronizing. He challenged everything Arthur said, dissolving every conversation into bickering. He made Arthur's blood boil, but it was an ecstatic, exciting burn. They'd fight, argue and throw objects at each other's heads, screaming themselves hoarse. They kicked and scratched and bled, then, roughly passionately, make up in an instant, Arthur falling back against a wall or into a bed, Francis whispering sweet French poetry into his ears. The kisses were like lightning. They sent shivers down Arthur's spine and turned the world behind his eyes a buzzing, feverish white.

Francis made Arthur lose control. He'd willingly give himself up to his senses. He had been a lunatic for four months straight. It was thrilling, but it was completely, mind-numbingly terrifying. That was why finally, after four months of beautiful, passionate, intense living, Arthur broke it off. He'd had enough of the constant back-and-forth arguing and fuming and drinking himself into a whore. He was constantly angry, bristling at every word. He didn't like what losing himself did to him. He couldn't stand to burn so brightly, to float through life untethered to the earth. He needed solid ground underneath his feet. He couldn't handle someone so deliciously vivacious as Francis was, a man who lived in the moment, for love and sex and good wine and a fine meal. Arthur needed stability, room to breathe.

Now, seven months later, that's what he had. A stupid, predictable, unchanging life full of all the empty air he could ever hope to breathe.

Hey guys! Thanks for checking out this fanfic X3 It was inspired by the FrUk vs UsUk wars. I am completely a UsUk girl, but I found that, when I looked at Fruk fanart or FrUk amvs, I actually really kind of liked their relationship. Especially watching the show, I think it's very hard to deny that England and France have something for each other. This got me to thinking. What happened?

I am of the opinion that Francis and Arthur have dated… or whatever they did before America came around. But they just fight too much. I think Arthur needs a little bit of fighting- I mean, with his personality, it's probably impossible to not have any arguments with him- but FrUk seems to be centered around this idea of rivalry. Also, I just think Francis is too… rebellious? He seems almost detached to me, a kind of 'go with the flow' kind of guy. Arthur is so concerned with keeping up appearances and being proper and whatever. He needs stability. Also, they're kind-of intellectual equals, which might seem like a good thing, but I think in their case it would just start all kinds of bickering.

Which is where Alfred comes in. He is stupid. He's charmingly stupid. As a smart person, I can tell you I tend to like people who are dumber than me :P They tend to be more easygoing and have a more playful sense of humor. Also, it's almost like a little game to correct them (nicely) when they make a mistake. I think Arthur, even if he found it exhausting, would enjoy correcting Alfred's grammar and whatnot.

Arthur is bitter, but he's really just a softie at heart. I think, in addition to having an argument once in a while to spice things up, he needs someone to be sweet to him (and not just when they're having sex). Alfred's the kind of guy who wouldn't feel self-conscious about being a complete dough-head in public and giving Arthur a great big bear hug.

So, all in all, I think my point here is that opposites attract. Though Francis is a little bit more… free than Arthur is and Arthur's a big huge blob of tsunadere, I think they're too similar on an intellectual level. I, personally, just think Arthur and Alfred's personalities suit each other better. I'm sorry, FrUk fangirls, but I shall try to do your pairing justice, as well! *clenches fist in the air dramatically*