"Arthur..." He mumbled to himself as he made his way back towards his home. 'What an incredibly British name he thought to himself as his house came into view. When he had made it in he said hello to his mom but the quickly stole away up to his room. He pulled out the sketch he had drawn the day before and in a black space near the bottom he scrawled the name Arthur. He then flipped to the next page and began another sketch, an image that had stuck with him the entire day. The moment he had opened his eyes to be staring into the face of the other. It was electrifying and breathtaking even as he thought back to it now and he wasn't sure why. He had almost completed to work when his mother had entered his room. "Francis," She started. "You're father and I have to go away on-"
"A business trip." he finished for her. He had heard it enough times before.
"Um, yes. But this will be your first time alone in the new house, so I just want to make sure you're ok with it." Francis had stayed by himself plenty of times before. "I'll be fine mom."
"Are you sure?"
"I promise." He said with a grin. His simile always made her feel better, he had found.
"Arthur are you ok?"
"Stay away from me frog!"
Francis was in the woods the day after his parents left looking for the boy he now knew was Arthur, but when he found him he did not like what he found. He had finally managed to happen upon the place where the boy actually lived and slept. It was a grand, big tree with a good-sized cavern underneath one of the large roots. Outside it was a small fire pit with a make-shift cooking spit and a log for sitting. Sitting on that log when he arrived was a shaking, pale, miserable looking soaking-wet Arthur. "Please lapin, tell me what happened."
"I fell in the bloody water, isn't that obvious... and don't call me a rabbit."
'So he does know some french.' "Well what are you doing just sitting here? Take off those wet clothes and put some dry ones one before you catch a cold!" Arthur just stared at him blankly. Francis looked around a bit. "You don't have a change of clothes do you." He shook is head. "I've fallen in the water before, I'm fine." But not seconds later did a sneeze escape him. The poor boy looked horribly tired and cold. "Here," Francis said as he stood up and offered his hand. Arthur inched back and stared at it questioningly. The french boy sighed as he leaned down, took the others hand and pulled him up. He began dragging him along as the other started squirming. "What do you think you're doing?!" he screeched, but soon was taken over by an attack of shivers. "I'm taking you to my house. I can't let you stay out here like this.
Francis could feel Arthur's feet falter a bit at that. 'Poor kid,' he thought again.
When they arrived back at the Francis' house Arthur tried desperately to be released. "I won't go in there!" He howled. "What if someone sees me, they'll...they'll..."
"They won't do anything to you Arthur, my parents are gone, they won't be back for a week. God, just because you live in the woods does not mean you need to be so difficult, come on!" Finally he managed to calm the frantic boy down enough to get him inside and upstairs. Francis, for the first time, wondered what the other had gone through to end up in the woods with a fear of human contact. He figured now wasn't the right time to ask. "Put your clothes in that basket over there," He pointed to the bin by the bathroom door. "I'm going to run you a bath." When Francis turned around after starting the water and getting it to a decent temperature the other boy was standing there with the towel he had given him wrapped around his waist. He still was shivering, but Francis couldn't help admire his body. Living in the wild kept you fit, though it looks like he should be eating more...
"Ahem." He was pulled from his thoughts. "Oh right, Desole." He exited the bathroom to start on lunch.
