~~Chapter 7- An unknowingly missed opportunity~~
He didn't know what woke him up. Was it the light that was falling on his face, the pain that was slowly making its way through every limb that had been fated to kiss a car or the feeling that he wasn't at home. Whatever it was, it had him opening his eyes and groaning aloud.
He looked around and saw that nothing had changed since last night. Arthur's bedroom was as normal as it was but… it wasn't his. He spotted a glass of water lying on the side table. Reaching out to take it he noticed that the book he had been reading last night was lying next to the glass and was that a book mark inside the pages? On closer inspection, he figured that yes it was a bookmark. To be more specific, a Doctor who bookmark. He smiled softly. Arthur must have come into the room some time back. He could imagine Arthur taking the book and keeping it aside and tucking him into bed. It was odd especially because he hadn't been tucked into bed for ages but somehow it felt oddly fitting.
He shook his head and drank a bit of water.
He didn't notice the man standing near the doorway and looking into the room. Arthur's green eyes scanned Francis. The Frenchman seemed to be all right. He must probably be in pain though. But that would wear off soon after he takes his medication. He knocked the door lightly and wasn't that surprised to see Francis turn and look at him with eyes open wide. Once he recognized who it was standing by the door his eyes softened and he smiled.
"Oh it's you. Come on in Mon Petit."
Arthur nodded stiffly before walking in and handing Francis a tray.
"I got you some cereal because I had a feeling you wouldn't appreciate my muffins."
Francis smiled. "Well your feeling was certainly right. After all if you could burn a stew then what would you do to a muffin?"
"Just shut up and eat, frog." Arthur said feeling embarrassed because well he could do many things to a muffin but it still doesn't make it any more edible. Quite the opposite really.
Francis tried to get up. "I don't know about your morning habits but I place a lot of importance on my dental hygiene." He slipped and fell, well nearly as Arthur held onto him and said with worry.
"Are you all right?"
"Never been better." Francis said quietly.
With Arthur's help he managed to walk over to the bathroom and brush his teeth and wash his face. He figured he could use the toilet after he has his pills because if he has to ask Arthur's help to get to the toilet and get off of it then he might as well steal Vash's gun and shoot himself.
A few minutes later he was eating up Shreddies while looking at Arthur. The Brit was highly entertaining. He was counting all of Francis's pills for the meal and putting it into a small box. His face was all scrunched up in concentration. Like a scientist trying to get his measurements right. When he seemed to have finished, he paused and started counting them again.
"You know Arthur, you look like you have OCD."
"Quiet."
"I finished eating."
"Quiet."
"Can I have my meds?"
"Qui-" Arthur stopped and looked at Francis before pushing the box towards him. "Here you go."
Francis drank his meds and stayed put for a few minutes and once he felt his pain reduce, he figured he could go to the toilet.
A harmless decision right?
Well there was a warning Arthur gave Francis two nights ago. A simple warning. One that Francis should have remembered but forgot for obvious reasons.
So when he opened the bathroom door and sat himself on the toilet he was stunned to hear sounds coming from behind the shower curtain. He slowly got up and went towards the curtain.
He swallowed thickly and carried a toothbrush for self protection before quickly drawing the curtain aside.
Arthur had just arranged the bed and was puffing up pillows when he heard the high pitched screams. He froze for a few seconds before panic set in. Did something happen to Francis?
He rushed over to the bathroom and tried to open the door only to realize that Francis had locked the door. Stupid Frog.
"Francis, are you all right?" he screamed but there was no response. Trying to open the door and failing. He figured that he could enter the bathroom from Felix's room. Rushing over to his roommate's bedroom he stopped when he saw the pink…well everything. He shook his head and set his eyes on the mission in hand. There is no time to waste. He walked over to the bathroom and pushed the door open and boy was he surprised when he saw what he saw.
Francis was crouching on the floor, caught up in prayers and onto his left in the tub were two aghast but blushing men who were…naked.
"Felix." Arthur said with a voice sharp enough to cut a diamond. "What have I told you about bathroom sex?"
Felix smiled in an effort to lower the tension. "Well…uhm…don't do it."
Arthur rolled his eyes and helped Francis up. The Frenchman looked at him before standing up.
"Are you hurt?" Arthur asked kindly.
Francis just stared at him before opening the door and leaving. Well he must be traumatized. Arthur turned and glared at Felix.
"I really hope there won't be a next time Felix." His voice had dropped a couple of octaves and made Felix swallow in fear before shaking his head and waving his hand.
"Of course not."
Arthur rolled his eyes and walked out. Yeah right.
He shut the door and turned to see Francis staring at the bed. Arthur silently walked over and held Francis's shoulder. "How about we go for a walk?"
Ten minutes later the two men were going for a walk, neither speaking a word. One was feeling awkward and the other just a bit traumatized.
They passed a few shops and then Arthur halted while looking up at a store. 'Glam N' Chic' the sign read out. It was then that he realized two things.
Francis didn't have extra clothes. He was wearing the same outfit his mom had bought in a rush while at the hospital.
And he had been going to the bathroom when…that happened. So he must have not done his…well you know.
Arthur pulled Francis along as he walked into the store. The Frenchman looked at Arthur quizzically but didn't say anything in protest.
After stopping a Store assistant and whispering something in her ear, Arthur pulled Francis a couple of aisles along and stopped in front of a door.
He turned and grinned.
"There you go, the bathroom."
Francis blinked before looking at Arthur with bewilderment. "Pardon?"
Arthur pointed at the bathroom and said with glee, "Well you wanted to go, right? When we were back at home?"
Francis stared at Arthur with disbelief. What was the man getti- Oh.
He smiled gratefully as he realized what Arthur was saying. "I-uh- Merci." He walked inside leaving Arthur standing outside the door alone. Which the Brit didn't really give a damn about. Francis needed clothes and he was going to buy him some.
He searched the aisles for the perfect shirts. He smiled as he picked a light blue cotton shirt. He looked at the brand, 'Hugo Boss.' He softly swore under his breath and kept the shirt back. He wasn't going to pay more than £50 on a fucking shirt. Ever.
He kept the shirt back and wondered down the aisles. His fingers ran over all the shirts trying to find a good one. His eyes shined as he pulled a plain white shirt out. £10. And when he read a card that was hanging around the shirt a grin lit up his face. This was brilliant. If he bought five shirts of the same brand he could get them all at £35. Cheap. He grinned as he pulled four more shirts and walked over to another aisle. Now only if he could find a few trousers and sweater vest for that same price.
And yes he did it. There was an offer on a few pairs of trousers. They were also from a brand which he had never heard of before but well it doesn't matter. Who knows, maybe the manufacturers of these clothes are poor but talented designers hoping for a big break. If that is so then Arthur Kirkland had just kick started their career in Fashion. Isn't that just great?
Feeling very generous he took two beige sweater vests.
"Bonjour!"
Arthur turned and smiled at Francis. "Hello!"
Francis walked over and looked at all the clothes Arthur was carrying. He took one of the white shirts and held it. After scanning it intently for a few seconds. He gave the shirt back.
"You know Mon Ami that shirt is slightly damaged. And the cotton is of inferior quality."
Arthur's eyes widened. How dare that boisterous Frenchman ridicule those hard working designers who aim to succeed in fashion? How dare he?
"And how do you know?"
Francis moved a step back when he saw the Brit look at him angrily. "Well, I did my major in fashion and worked as an assistant under James Armand from Louis Vuitton. He even promised to let me design my own line."
Arthur just stared. "You worked for Louis Vuitton?"
The Frenchman nodded feeling giddy. He then smiled at Arthur. "Hey do you know something?"
Arthur looked at him and then at the clothes he was carrying and said hmm.
"Imagine me with my own Fashion Line. I can see it. The Bonnefoy Fashion line. How amazing would that be?"
"Conceited much?" Arthur quipped half-heartedly.
Francis looked at Arthur and felt just a bit bad. He must have unknowingly hurt the man's feelings.
"Look Arthur, You can still wear those clothes if you want to."
Arthur turned and stared at Francis, "These are not for me. They are for you."
Francis laughed. "Nice joke, Arthur. I would never wear something so old-fashioned."
Arthur looked at the man and then glared at him. Dropping all the clothes in a pile. He clenched his fist and punched Francis. "Go to hell, you bloody wanker!"
Francis doubled over and held his abdomen. Merde. That hurt. He looked up at Arthur who was positively glowering.
"I was hunting around the aisles to get you some fucking clothes and that's how you treat me. You ridicule my sense of fashion."
Francis stood up. "C'est quoi ce bordel ? your sense of fashion? If you want to dress like you're from the 80's, go ahead but don't make me wear it. I mean a sweater vest in this climate? Tu es completement débile!"
Arthur pulled his sleeves back and walked forwards looking very, very angry. "Take that back, wanker."
Francis shook his head. "Non."
The sales assistant's eyes bulged when Arthur threw a punch. She was just about to rush to Francis's aid when she saw the blond punch back and then it began. The two men grappled on the floor, punching each other and kicking one another and… did Arthur just bite Francis?
"Mon Dieu! Did you just bite me?" Francis screamed.
Yes. Yes he-
"Hell yes, Fucking Twit." Arthur laughed.
-did.
Francis looked at Arthur with disbelief. The rest of the store looked on in fear and a bit of awe because Arthur was laughing like a crazy Serial killer but… he was sitting on top of Francis's abdomen, legs draped around the latter. And boy did they look hot.
Uhm.
Anyway , Francis shoved Arthur aside before standing up. That mad Brit. He better look out because he was going to get-
Merde.
The Frenchman nearly doubled over in pain. His hand which should have been safely kept in a sling was now free of the material and hurting. He breathed deeply before turning around and glaring at Arthur. This was entirely the imbecile's fault. Why did he have to pull Francis into a fight?
Arthur who was now chuckling looked up only to see Francis looking at him with a whole lot of anger. He stood up whilst straightening his suit and grinned.
"What happened now?"
Francis was two seconds away from giving the Brit a piece of his mind when a hand held his shoulder. He looked behind only to see a man with brown hair and olive skin glare at him with light brown eyes. Oh and he had a long gravity defying curl poking out of his bangs.
"Franceypants, you bloody moron! Why the hell are you fighting in a store you bastard!"
Francis looked on in shock but then looked up and opened his mouth to retort back when Arthur jumped in the middle.
"That is exactly what I think of him. The bloody wanker. So I am Arthur Kirkland." Arthur smiled graciously before handing out his hand in a sign of friendship only to be met with a-
"Do I look like I give a fuck? You creepy pervert. Anyway get the hell away from me." He turned to leave before stopping and looking at Francis.
"Just so we are clear. I am going to tell this to dad."
He walked out of the store leaving a confused Francis and a very much heartbroken Arthur. That hurt.
Francis looked at Arthur's quivering lips and dejected expression before sighing and holding his shoulder.
"It's okay. You will get over it, Mon ami." He said quite gently before leading Arthur out of the store only for Arthur to stop and walk right back in. The Frenchman rolled his eyes and sat on a nearby bench. What had gotten into that man this time?
He turned and looked at the people walking past him, searching for any familiar faces; Gilbert, Tony or at least Ludwig. But as his eyes travelled from one face to another, his hope slowly faded. He didn't know anyone of these people. He closed his eyes and thought about what happened over the last few days. He really couldn't remember much. He didn't remember the crash or anything that happened afterwards. The only thing he could recall was waking up in an unfamiliar room and seeing an unfamiliar face look at him with worried green eyes. And then everything that happened afterwards, he could remember that pretty well too. But why can't he remember anything that happened before the crash? Not even one single thing? Well everything before Gilbert's party doesn't count. He remembers most of that pretty well but what happened afterwards?
How did he feel when he got evicted from his apartment?
Did they go house hunting immediately after being kicked out or did they drink themselves to death and crash on Ludwig's living room for the night or did they end up homeless?
Did he get that fashion line he was promised?
If he did then how did it even look?
Francis tried to recall answers to all these questions but…none came. Not even a single memory or at least a fragment of his memory-a small incy wincy one-surfaced back to him.
"Are you catching a nap?"
Francis slowly opened his eyes and found himself smiling as he saw Arthur. "No. I was enjoying one of the few moments of peace I have when you are not around."
"Go to hell."
Francis stood up and turned to walk back to the apartment. He paused and looked behind when he realized that Arthur wasn't next to him. He found the man standing next to the bench.
"Are you not coming?"
Arthur shook his head. "No. I want to eat in a restaurant. Will you accompany me?"
Francis grinned causing his eyes to twinkle. "Of course. After all," he smirked at Arthur, "I can't let you wander the streets of Hetalia unsupervised. Do you know just how dangerous you are to the commu-"
"Oh, Shut up."
After that the two men had lunch at a small but cozy restaurant nearby and then went to the cinema afterwards. They spent a good five minutes quarrelling about which movie to watch, and in the end they chose the Hobbit part two. A good movie but Francis found himself nodding off in the middle of it. It wasn't boring. Oh no, far from it actually. But he was feeling tired and his eyelids just couldn't stay open anymore.
His head lulled to the left and his head fell on Arthur's shoulder. Arthur who was chuckling at Legolas unknowingly insult Gloin's family quickly turned to see what or who had hit his shoulder. His eyes which flashed quite dangerously at the sudden intrusion softened as he saw Francis's face. His eyes lay closed as he slept peacefully. Arthur smiled at the man and wiped a crease off his eye brow before balancing Francis's head on his shoulder and laying a hand softly on the blond silky tresses.
When the movie came to an end, Arthur gently woke Francis up and the two men headed home. Walking into the apartment, they found Felix preparing a soup of some sort. He offered them some but Francis refused, only to have Arthur forcibly make him sit down and glare him into drinking the soup. The Frenchman who was too tired to put up a fight just drank it all up and took the medicines afterwards and headed to bed. Arthur watched him go but as he turned to finish drinking his own soup, he quite couldn't shake the feeling that he was forgetting something. He just hoped it wasn't anything important. He prayed it wasn't anything important.
It was later that night when he was going through the bag of clothes he had bought that he remembered. And as realization dawned, Arthur felt his chest become heavy. What had he done? Oh god. Shit. How did he miss it?
He collapsed onto the couch and stared at the clothes. How did he miss it? How could he have?
He held his forehead and closed his eyes. That man in the shop, the one with that outrageous curl. He recognized him. He recognized Francis.
He might have been Francis's friend. Someone who the Frenchman had forgotten because of the amnesia thing. Maybe that's why Francis couldn't recognize him but it doesn't matter. It was clear. Plain as day, that he knew Francis. Where he lived, where his family was, where his friends were. He might have known all of that.
And Arthur…
… just let him go.
Oh God.
A/N- Okay so sorry for the long delay and i am sorry if the chapter wasn't that good. i really tried. I promise. but do stay tuned. the other chapters would be better and watch out for the next one because you will get to know more about Arthur.
And all the followers and Favourite(rs?) thank you. Now only if the reviews could increase... anyway I hope i didn't disappoint you with the chapter. And i am sorry if i did.
Love you all and thanks for reading.
