A/N: Herro! See, I TOLD you I would be back with a second chapter! And so soon, too... This must be a new record for me! Well, I hope you enjoy! This chapter is a bit more angsty, just a fair warning, I guess. On to the story!
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Arthur had woken up from nothing in particular. But, he had some extra time until work, so he stayed put in his position in bed, staring at the ceiling. The topic of his silence was brought up in his mind, to his own displeasure.
'Why was I born mute?' he wondered, 'Did god just despise me, and make me unable to talk or hear my own words?'
The Briton sighed. 'Or maybe I just wasn't meant to be put on this earth, and to punish me, I was made mute... Oh, so many possibilities. All of them resulting in me being useless to this world. What is a mute man even supposed to do? Stay as a lowly editor forever? It's not like it's possible to talk without speaking... As I said, I'm clearly useless to this world.'
Arthur's negative thoughts had put him into some sort of depressed mode. He slumped out of bed and trudged to all of his destinations he had to make before going to work; the bathroom, the closet, the kitchen and the door.
Even though he had quite a good sleep last night, his eyes sagged as if he hadn't gotten a good rest in weeks. He was glad that just about no one knew him in his building, as he had no tolerance to talk to any of them.
Barely even noticing, Arthur found himself at the bus stop, throwing his money into the cup of change so that he could ride. He found an empty seat and lodged himself there, unmoving and unmotivated. It was going to be a long day at work today.
When he arrived at his destination, the Englishman had no thought in his mind of even remotely looking at anyone on the path to his cubicle. Lucky for him, everyone stayed away, as they seemed to be able to sense the mood. Except for one.
"What has happened to you, mon cher? It looks like you haven't gotten a good sleep for one day in your life! Did you stay up last night?"
Eyeing the Frenchman, he narrowed his eyebrows. He had no time for this. Sitting down, he got to work. Francis seemed to notice he wasn't exactly in the conversation mood after that. Meaning that he got to work, too.
-xxXXxx-
Nearly slamming the doors of his workplace, the Briton set a brisk pace of walking, nearly flying down the sidewalk. He had to get away. He had to get away from his life. He had endured 24 years of silence because he thought it would get better. But it hadn't. Nothing had gotten better. For anything, everything had gotten worse.
Arthur had no idea where he was going. But that didn't matter. As long as it was a place where he could lose himself in peace.
He had no idea how long he had been walking, but after what felt like a countless amount of minutes, the Englishman arrived at a crumbly cliff. Sighing, he sat down in front of it. Before he did anything, he had to think about it.
'I have no family. I have no friends. No one cares enough about me to even bother to converse with me. My job could easily be replaced.'
That just about did it for Arthur. But no matter how useless he made himself sound, there was still a part of him that wanted to stay longer. That wanted to see what was in store. That wanted to live.
He broke down.
The Englishman was on his knees, his forehead digging into the ground. Making a loud groan, he smashed his fist against the ground. His body was screaming in protest for him to stop. He could already feel the searing pain of an open cut on his hand, rocks and dust lining it. But he didn't care. He needed relief. And if it wasn't going to be dying, the least he could do was punish himself.
When Arthur was finished with himself, he slowly staggered onto his feet and wiped himself clean of the rocks and rubble that stuck to him. He felt even more useless than ever after this. Apparently nothing could fill the void that had grown in his soul since he started thinking about his inability to speak.
Every step of the way to his house was painful. It was his head throbbing, his knees shaking, his leg giving out under him, his hand pulsing. And on top off that, the bleeding wasn't stopping. The crimson liquid was still streaming from all the cuts he had created along his body. The only thing that could make this worse was running into someone. And even though he didn't want to jinx it, he knew that this was the way Francis got home.
Every breath he took, he felt weaker. Soon, he was tripping, soon he was almost collapsing. But that didn't last long, no. What did last long, though, was his inability to see, move, hear and feel. He had blacked out.
-xxXXxx-
Arthur didn't know when he woke up. All he knew is that he had a different scenery; a cocoa brown painted the roof he was staring at, light circle designs coating over it. In an instant, he knew where he was, and frankly, he was quite annoyed about it. Well, at least he could relax, knowing that he wasn't in a complete stranger's house. He still had to think about how much time had passed, though. It couldn't have possibly been over an hour… Could it?
When the sound of movement was heard, the Briton quickly positioned his eyes to face the creator of the noise, finding none other than Francis with a coffee linked in his fingers.
At the sight of Arthur being awake, it looked like he nearly dropped it.
A smile lit up upon the Frenchman's face. "Mon cher, you're awake!" he exclaimed, shuffling closer to the injured man, as to not spill his beverage.
Arthur nodded slightly. Looking around the room for a moment, a confused expressing popped on his face and he lifted his wrist and tapped it.
Francis' head fell to the side for a slight moment. "The time? Oh, well it's about 7:00…"
The Briton's eyes widened slightly. Had he really been out for a half hour? Well, he was at least grateful it hadn't been more.
After a moment of silence, Francis' facial expression changed from joy to worry. In a hushed voice, he asked, "What were you doing, cher? I found you unconscious on the ground, you were bleeding everywhere, I had to wrap up your hand and leg and patch up your head-"
Arthur cut him off by placing his good hand over the Frenchman's mouth. At times like this, he really wished he could speak. But sadly, he couldn't. He had to make use of what he had. Side glancing the bedside table to the left of him, he found a notepad with a pen right next to it. Grabbing it from his spot, he began scribbling down words on the page, Francis watching him while he did so.
When he was finally done, he turned it towards the other for him to read. Annoyingly enough to the Briton, he read it out loud.
"Do you even know the extent of how hard it is to be mute? I just had to relieve myself. So I went to the old motocross pit, and did so."
Arthur had purposefully left out the part of him contemplating killing himself. He didn't want his co-worker to think he was suicidal or had problems. That would just make things much harder.
Francis didn't say a word, but his expressions showed all. He looked torn, filled with even more worry than before. In one swift movement, Arthur was pulled into a breathtaking hug by the other. He didn't know what to do. He felt sadness welling up inside of himself, though he couldn't put his finger on why. 'This damn Frog messes with my emotions way too much to be considered normal...'
"I'm sorry," the Briton could hear Francis say in a hoarse voice. "I'm so sorry. I really wish I understood." He pulled back to face Arthur. "I want you to help me understand."
The Englishman had no idea how to react. Would having someone who understood really help? Well, it certainly would be better than loneliness. If he had Francis... No matter how much he tried to say he disliked him with his whole heart, at the end of the day, he knew he had a soft spot for him. Barely even noticing, he began nodding his head. The look on the Frenchman's face made his day.
Out of the blue, Francis asked, "would you try to stop me if I said I want to kiss you?"
Pausing, Arthur thought about this. He could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks, his heart skipping a beat.
The Briton made no clear reply. Francis took it upon himself to kiss him, anyways.
The kiss, to Arthur, felt like the most comforting thing he had ever felt. Warmth spread throughout his body and he felt as if he was weightless, invincible, able to do anything. He felt as though he could even talk if he wanted, even though he knew deep down that he couldn't. But, in this moment, he didn't care. All he knew is that he was with the one he knew he loved. Even if there was no way he would admit it at this point.
The kiss was kept chaste, much to the Briton's relief. He was quite unstable at the moment, only just waking up from unconsciousness mere minutes ago. If they had gone any further, Arthur was convinced he would have passed out. When they parted, he instantly looked away in embarrassment, a light pink tone coating his face. That expression was one of Francis' greatest pleasures in life.
Glancing over at the clock, he figured that the other would probably be hungry, as he had not seen him eat since he came in.
Smiling, Francis tilted Arthur's head up to look at him. "I'm going to make us some food, you must be starving."
Nodding quickly, Francis chuckled, getting up from his seat and traveling to the kitchen to create whatever his heart desired.
-xxXXxx-
The food Francis had made was delicious. It had been spaghetti with a lovely tomato sauce drizzled on top, along with mashed potatoes for a side, the beverage being a fine French red wine.
They both had finished their food quickly, Arthur being the one to finish first due to having destroyed it like a savage beast. The Frenchman couldn't have helped but laugh at that moment.
Now, after hours of talking and such casually and occasionally spouting (or expressing, in Arthur's case) insults at each other, the two found themselves exhausted, the Briton especially. Since Francis only owned one bed, a queen sized, Arthur was inwardly freaking out about the situation. Would they have to sleep together? What if he moved too much? What if he woke the Frenchman up?
All of his thoughts were soon put to a halt when the other spoke. "Well, ah, since I only have one bed, I guess... I'll be sleeping on the couch. You can sleep on the bed."
As soon as he began setting up the couch, the Englishman stopped him by placing a hand on his shoulder. He shook his head side-to-side, gesturing shyly with his hand towards the bed.
"But, mon cher, wouldn't it bother you to have someone sleeping with you?"
Pausing for a bit, he shook his head once again. It wasn't right for Francis to sleep on the couch in his own home while Arthur took up the whole bed. No matter how much his mind was yelling at him to let the other sleep on the couch.
A light smile playing on his lips, Francis chuckled softly. "Well, if you insist, Arthur."
Hearing his name roll off the Frenchman's tongue was a rare thing to hear. It made Arthur stop for a second, a soft blush claiming his cheeks. He thanked the lord that the other man had already turned away by that moment. He felt indifferent about his saying his name.
Francis handed him some clothes to change into, as to which he took and put them on in the bathroom. When he looked at himself in the mirror, that was when he blushed properly.
He had been given a shirt with the French flag along with the Eiffel tower on it. That was enough to explain how Arthur felt.
Walking out casually, the Briton quickly took his place on the left side of the bed, groaning when he found a part of his back that he had clearly injured in his fit of self-hatred.
To this, Francis frowned. Hugging him softly from behind, he whispered into his ear, "Good night, Arthur." As quickly as it happened, the warmth was gone.
As the Briton began drifting off to sleep, he was left with one thought in mind:
Yeah, I do like how my name sounds coming from him.
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A/N: Crappy ending is crappy. Sorry author is sorry. Anyways, I hope you liked this chapter! It is a little bit on the long side, which I am kind of proud of. But I think there is something you all should be proud of me for: Getting two chapters up within 24 hours of each other! Hooray! Hopefully I can try to do the same with the upcoming chapter, but I don't know. I need some time to think about what is going to happen. Remember, reviews are nice, and so are favourites and follows, but they aren't mandatory. I hope you guys liked this chapter!
~Ryuka