I felt so out of place. Walking in this large apartment complex, it looked somewhat cheap. I'd been living that sort of lifestyle for quite a while now; in fact, I think the complex was owned by the same company.

However, the people that were there...

Alfred's words from earlier that day echoed in my head again. "You can go anywhere within this area. But don't go in room sixty-seven, alright?" Whatever was so bad about that room was beyond me.

The first person I noticed was up on the second story, looking at me from the railing. So familiar...He had long, blond hair and cerulean eyes. But... they certainly weren't as bright as Alfred's. Wait- I did not think that... did I?

"Il est attrayant peu-Bretagne, non? " I winced. I hardly knew that much French, but what I did pick up from that sentence didn't make me feel much better. I stayed were I was. On the old, wooden bench seemed very uncomfortable until I met gazes with the Frenchman. Now, the bench, though it left my back aching, seemed very welcoming.

I didn't notice as he walked slowly down the painted metal stairs. Next thing I knew, he was standing above me with a seductive smile adorning his lips. I didn't want to believe it before, but now that I got a closer look at him, it was so painfully obvious.

This was my perverted French mailman.

"F-Francis-" I was cut off. He held my chin upwards with his thumb and index finger. I winced. With breath smelled of French wine, though it was apparent by his speech and his movements that he was not intoxicated. "Don't speak, L'Angleterre. Let me handle this."

I soon found myself in a rather troubling situation; what with being pressed up against the nearest wall, with his hands trailing up and down my sides. They threatened to go closer to my crotch each time.

"Oh… Je deviens chanceux. Certainement..."

I yelped when he started to unzip my pants, but he brought another hand up to my mouth to silence me. "Ne combattez pas, l'Angleterre... It will make it easier, non?" I shook my head, but he would have none of that, apparently. He was definitely focused on doing the unthinkable... which was oddly thinkable at this point. Just when I had believed he had one, a voice called out,

"Francis! What the hell, dude?"

He stepped back a few steps, turning to see that Alfred was walking - no, more like stomping toward us. "L'Amérique! I did not see you there.." His French accent was slowly starting to get on my nerves.

"Cut the crap," I noticed that Francis had winced, "What the hell are you doing? "

"L'Amérique, vous devez comprendre…" All this French made my head hurt, "It was... how you say, tempting..." I saw the smirk, not only on his thin lips, but in his blue eyes as well.

"Tempting? Like he would hear any of that crap!" Alfred, by this point in time, had walked over and stood next to me with a hand on my shoulder. They both went back and forth with the arguing, and all I could do was sit there and listen. I didn't really understand Francis with his heavy French accent, and Alfred... well, his grammar could be compared to a goat.

"Fine! Have it your way..." Francis smirked seductivley at me again, licking his lips. "We'll continue this later, L'Angleterre..." he winked before struting off in another direction, laughing that annoying 'L'hohohon!' of his.

"Sorry 'bout that, dude... that guy is nothing but perverted." Alfred gave me an apoligetic smile. I liked his smile it was very... charming. Not to mention, it made him look incredibly handsome- wait. I was not falling for my kidnapper... was I?

"Don't worry about it..." I sighed, fixing my clothes and dusting them off with my hands. I never liked the bloody Frenchman, anyway...

"C'mon, we've found a room for ya." He took a hold of my wrist and nodded in a certain direction. I nodded and followed obediently. As we walked, however, I noted that his hand slipped further down my arm. Eventually, we were holding hands on the rest of the way there. This had not helped with my new little habit of blushing a lot recently.

When we arrived at the small-looking apartment door, room forty-two, to be exact, he pulled out a small metallic key. When he inserted it into the lock, the door opened with ease. He pushed the door open with his index finger and went inside. "C'mon."

This room certainly was not as dull and poor-looking as the outside of the complex. There was a hall that connected all of the rooms (and by my guessing, I thought there to be about five). A small, yet glamorous chandelier hung from the ceiling and there were old paintings that hung along the walls. Were all of the apartments so glorious and big?

"Well, you'll be staying with me. This is where you'll stay, for now." Alfred continued walking further into the house, leaving me to observe quietly. "Until the boss says otherwise," he had called from what I supposed to be a closet.

"Boss?" I blinked once or twice. "Who's that?" I found that I had been asking a lot of questions lately; especially to these people.

"Classified. Well, at least until you're in the ranks." Alfred returned with some pajamas and some toiletries. "Here, use this for tonight. We'll get you some more later."

I nodded and took the clothes from his arms. Holding them out in front of me, I found that they were a little big. Were they Alfred's? I blushed at the thought of me wearing his things. Damn that new habit of mine...

"Um, excuse me, sir," I really didn't know how I should behave around these people.

He shook his head. "Nah, just call me Alfred or whatever. I don't care." I was taken aback that my kidnapper wasn't some weird sadistic person with a fetish for people who called them 'master' and such things. I had a feeling, though, that Francis was the opposite of the man before me.

"Well, then... Alfred..." I cleared my throat, "May I ask why you're being so kind?"

He blinked, and then looked at the floor. "I, uh..." was it just me, or did his face reden? Just a tad? "I never really thought about all that. I dun really know."

"Oh." I wanted to slap myself. Way to sound intelligent, Arthur. 'Oh'.

"Well, you'll sleep down that hall, first door on the right, and the kitchen is right through there," he continued giving me pointers as to where everything was.

"Well," he sighed, "Make yourself at home."

And then, I knew that somehow in all of this... I'd be alright. Somehow.

Well, I have decided to continue it all because of the support of a mysterious little anon, and ImaduckQuaQua.

Thank you two~~ This chapter goes out to you.

~Hari-Sama