A/N: Yes. I split the previous 2nd chapter into two, and added some little things I Hope it's more enjoyable.


"Francis!"

"Oui?" Replied Francis sleepily, it was three in the morning when Arthur called. Francis has just gone home from a Saturday night out with his Trio.

"Francis, Alfred proposed to me."

"Pardon? My mind is a bit fuzzy.."

"Alfred. He asked me to marry him, Francis. And I said yes."

The realization came to him. Arthur was going to be married, to Alfred. "Ah..." 'There's nothing you can do now, Francis,' the little voice in his head whispered.

"Francis?" Arthur's voice was filled with worry.

"Ah, oui. It's great, Arthur. It's really great. I'm happy for you. Tell Alfred that, too. Okay?" Francis hoped his voice didn't show any pain he felt; he tried hard to make his lips formed a smile, anyway.

"Yes, sure. Sorry to call you this late, Francis."

"Mon ch-" Francis cleared his throat. He shouldn't call Arthur with any endearments. "Arthur, it is 3am, you should say that it's too early to call, not too late. But it's fine. You know it always is, Arthur."

"Um.. Yeah, Francis."

"Okay then. Anything else?"

"No, nothing. I just think that it's a bit strange that you're not using any of your French endearments."

Francis held his breath and exhaled slowly, "I guess I'm just a bit tired, Arthur."

"Oh, sorry Francis. I'll see you at work, then."

"Sure. Anytime." And with that, Francis turned his phone off.

He was very tired; he wanted to sleep badly. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep, but he wanted to just close his eyes without having to listen to his phone ringing because Gilbert and Antonio would call him as soon as they knew the news.

Francis closed his eyes, sighing. He should be happy, but he wasn't. He wasn't happy at all. He turned and tossed on his bed, thinking about Arthur and Alfred, and why it wasn't him whom Arthur loved.

A few hours after that, Francis decided that he would cook. He didn't want to eat, but he knew he had to, because his stomach was grumbling. When he went to the kitchen, though, all he cooked was instant noodle; a food he usually despised.

Francis ate the instant noodle sitting in front of his TV. His eyes were on the TV, but he was looking further. He was looking to somewhere else, probably Arthur's bedroom, because he could almost feel Arthur's scent all around him. It felt as if he could just reach out and touch Arthur's face.

Francis shook his head, "Merde, Arthur. What have you done to me?"

The rest of the Sunday was spent to write a resignation letter. He needed to quit his job. He was tired. He couldn't pretend anymore. He could no longer smile after being poisoned.

On Monday, he came to the director's office to give him his resignation letter. He said that he's tired and wanted to go back to his hometown in France, open up a bakery and live a peaceful life, right then or at least that week.

Well, all of the reasoning was right, but he, actually just wanted to end all of this pretence.

"Why?"

"I told you before, Mr. Yao, I want to open up a bakery in my hometown."

"No, Francis. Why now?" Yao sighed, "You are one of the best editors I have, Francis. You know that. And how about Arthur's projects? He specially asked for you, Francis."

"I know, monsieur.. But this is my dream, to make a bakery in my hometown." Francis shifted in his seat, "I believe you will find someone to fill my position, monsieur."

"But Arthur doesn't want anyone else for that position."

"I can still read his novel and give him advices as a friend, he knows that."

"I still don't get it, Francis. I really don't. Are you sure?"

"J'en suis sûr, monsieur. I'm sure."

Yao sighed, "Okay, then. When would you like to stop?"

"Right after the launching of Arthur's novel, I suppose. It's on 27th this month, too, so I think that it will be a good time." Francis smiled.

"That will be next week... Fine, yes."

"And monsieur, could I ask for one more thing?"

Yao nodded. Francis cleared his throat, "Please don't tell anyone about my leave."

A sigh, "Ah? Why? I have to tell everyone about it."

"Then... Could you just tell everyone after I leave? I want it to be a surprise leave."

"Fine."

"Merci, monsieur. Thank you very much."

Starting on that day, Francis worked faster than usual. Not that he had to. He just...got too lazy to see Alfred hugging Arthur and kissing him and holding his hand and all. Jealous? Yes of course. He shouldn't be, but he was.


"Arthur, can I talk to you for a second?"

"Um... yeah, sure," Arthur said, letting go of Alfred's hand. They were in the parking lot, Alfred and Arthur on their way to Alfred's car.

"Can't you just talk here, Francey?"

"Don't call me that, Alfred. It's ridiculous."

Arthur sighed. "I'll go with him, Al. Just a minute."

"No, Artie. You never know what he would do to you."

Francis snorted, "I'm not that low, Alfred. I'm not the one who left Arthur drunk in a bar while I'm with someone else."

"Hey-!" Alfred stepped forward, stiff, hand ready to fly.

Arthur closed his eyes, moving to a space between Alfred and Francis. "Stop it, Alfred. You too, Francis. Please."

"Je suis desole, Arthur." Francis moved a step backward, "I want to invite you to a dinner, in my apartment."

"I don't want you to go-"

"Arthur, what do you think? It's on Friday."

"Arthur, listen-"

"Alfred, stop." Arthur raised his left hand to the air.

"But Art-"

"Mon Dieu, shut up, Alfred! I'm only inviting Arthur, so shut up!" Alfred sent Francis a death glare at this, while Francis was simply looking into Arthur's emerald eyes which were also looking into his.

Arthur sighed, "Okay. Yes, I'll be there, Francis."

"Merci, Arthur." Francis smiled and turned away to his car.

"But Arthur-!" Alfred started again.

"Alfred, no. I have decided."


Friday.

Francis was in his kitchen, making foods. He prepared the nicest dinner he could cook which mean...the best food one would ever taste.

Arthur would arrive in about 30 minutes, being the on time kind of person he was. Francis decided that the food he was cooking would be fine if he left it so he went to his bedroom and start changing his clothes.

There was a knock on the door. Only Arthur knocked even though there's a bell. He only used the bell if he was in a hurry.

Francis checked on the oven again, and after seeing that his food is fine, he opened the door.

"Hello, Arthur. Please come in," Francis said. Arthur was a bit surprised at how Francis dressed. Yes, he knew the French loved to look very fashionable, but it's just dinner, did he have to wear a suit that looked so...expensive while he was just wearing one of his cream coloured shirt, brown trousers and a brown jacket?

"Where are you going?" the question slipped out of Arthur's lips before he could stop it.

"Ohonhon mon cherie, I'm going to have dinner with you. Quoi?" Francis flipped his hair in his extravagant style.

"Your suit. That's what I'm talking about, frog!" Arthur was annoyed.

"Ah mon cher, I'm just wearing my favourite suit to have dinner with my favourite man~" Francis responded, blinking his left eye.

"Bloody frog! I bet you even flirt your chair," Arthur said, not blushing at all. Pity me, Francis thought.

"Oui, oui, mon cher. Now please come in," Francis said, because Arthur was still being outside of his apartment.


A/N: Okay. Tell me what you think about it. Thanks :)