Francis sighed, looking over the lovely country side where he was spending the summer. Everything seemed so dull despite the absolute beauty surrounding him and the fine food he ate every day. It was missing something, someone.
Imperfection would make it interesting, out of the ordinary and strange.
"Sir," one of the maids broke his train of thought. "There is a young man here to see you, he says he knows you."
"Bring him in." The blond said with a half-hearted wink. The young woman blushed none the less.
She left the room for a moment and soon returned with a man dressed in english finery and a calculating look on his face. "Well now Froggie, I came here out of the goodness in my heart and you don't even see fit to stand and greet me?"
"Arthur, mon cher," Francis smiled. "I'd have gotten up if I had known it was you." He shooed the maid away and strode toward Arthur, once close enough he promptly slapped him.
"W-why did you do that?" Arthur asked, holding his cheek with one hand.
Francis shrugged, "I was bored."
The Englishman pouted, "I'm leaving." He announced, abruptly turning toward the door.
"Wait! Wait!" Francis exclaimed. He grabbed Arthur's hand firmly with his own, "You can't leave, you only just got here."
"I can see where I'm not welcomed." The shorter blond said over his shoulder.
Francis spun the stubborn man around so they were facing each other and brought his hand to his lips. "I will always welcome you with open arms, mon cher."
xxx-xxx
Ah, lovely... Just anither little something I wrote when insanely bored, wishing I had an England to take me away... (...)
Well, I own nothing.
Hope you enjoyed it.