A shooting star streaked across the sky, landing unseen somewhere beyond the horizon.

I wish it was winter.

Arthur Kirkland was seated in a comfy armchair in the living room of his quaint summer home, staring out at the dark fields just beyond the window. A file full of confidential papers sat on his lap, looking a bit sullen and neglected as its reader's once diligent attention was turned elsewhere.

The thought of icy webs of frost on the windowpane and feather soft snow made him heave a longing sigh. It seemed most people disliked the cold season, a fact that he honestly could not understand. The Brit was most at home building snowmen, hanging mistletoe, driving a horse drawn carriage through small towns for couples on Christmas Eve…

He heaved another sigh.

Stop that incessant groaning! he chastised himself in irritation, stubbornly stuffing his face back in the file. No need to feel sorry for yourself; you're the bloody United Kingdom!

And yet Arthur was unable to concentrate on histhe the words dancing before his eyes, his attention drawn to the night like a moth to candlelight.

Sure, he was happy about everything he accomplished: He was a stable nation with a long and illustrious history, legendary for his imperial methods and tenacity in the face of war. But really, when was the last time he had himself a good bit of fun…?

He couldn't remember.

Once, he had never had these thoughts, these strange, rebellious ideas. But ever since he had lost Alfred… Since his son had gained his independence and then exceed him, an ancient nation, in power, Arthur's ideals had shifted just slightly…They seemed to be the same, until he really, truly looked. He had always had an idea of what was right and wrong, but now… He wasn't so sure.

Arthur shook his head ferociously, trying to rid himself of these troublesome thoughts. But that refused to leave, clinging to his mind like spider webs, cloyingly soft and ever so sweet. It suddenly occurred to him: When was the one time in his life when he honestly did whatever he felt like, whenever he felt like it?

Memories of endless blue seas and skies came rushing back, and the Englishman couldn't help but smile. Ah, his pirate days… The absolute freedom was nothing like he had ever felt before and hadn't felt since then. The recollection of being rid of all responsibilities, all the weight of being a nation lifted from his shoulders as he only thought of the ocean or rum or perhaps a wench or two.

What he would give to return to those days…

"Arthur, are you just going to mope around all night? Come outside, the weather's wonderful!"

The Briton glanced over at the back door, examining the lean form of his French lover standing in the doorway. Francis smiled over at him, eyes the color of twin aquamarines dancing with constant laughter as he returned Arthur's gaze.

"But Francis, I have to finish reading the new environmental treaty and then I have to sort out that bloody mess of taxes and-"

"Save it for tomorrow! It's a beautiful night."

Francis extended his hand to Arthur, seemingly innocent request ruined the the sinful fire in his eyes. Arthur hesitated, feeling his own heart burning with desire as he met that lustful gaze. Maybe… He could put all of his responsibilities off for now… He really deserved some relaxation… So he rose to his feet, letting the papers fall in a messy heap to the floor, taking a few steps and intertwining his hand with Francis'.

"Fine, frog… But just for tonight. And no funny business!" His seemingly strict, reluctant stone was ruined by the blush on his cheeks, the smile on his lips, the look in his eyes… Francis chuckled.

"One night's all I need, Angeleterre."

Arthur let Francis pull him into the darkness, letting the warm night air envelope him like a second skin.

All of that blasted paperwork could wait.

Tonight, he was going to do what he wanted.

O-o-O

Author's Note:

As you can tell, the last two chapters coincide. What else was I supposed to do with Light/Dark? Anyway, the angst will be coming soon. Look for it in the next chapters!

Disclaimer:

I do not own Hetalia, nations, or any other trademark thing you might find here.

P.S- Light/Dark are dedicated to my good friend, ocobeam! You know who you are.