Hello people~

This story is back!...sort of.

I posted this so I could feel encouraged to write a couple more chapters!

However, I'm not completely satisfied with it :/

I really want to finish what I start, so I'm probably going to be ending this story soon unless I can come up with more ideas...

Please review!

Enjoy.


Arthur felt like crap. He hadn't slept a wink last night because every time he closed his eyes a certain French boy would materialize in front of him. The Brit was afraid to blink. Arthur understood the concept of a crush but the way Francis invaded his mind all the time, scared him. The git's like a fucking tumor, he just gets in your mind and stays there! I sure as Hell didn't invite him! He's basically trespassing but the bongos won't do anything about it because, apparently, 'it's not a real crime'. Lazy bastards. The Englishman glanced at his watch and realized that he better get going. Anger Management class was going to start soon. As he walked across campus, Arthur fought to keep his eyes open, but with each passing step his eyelids felt heavier and heavier. He even had to stop walking for a minute to participate in a full body yawn that forced him to stretch his arms and straighten his back. It's going to be tough staying awake in class, he realized. I just hope if I do fall asleep no one wakes me up because then shit will go down and I don't want to give Mr. Vargas anymore reasons to assign me more classes.

The Englishman took a detour to class to rinse his face off in the bathroom, hoping the cold water would shock him awake. When he realized that he was just making a weirdo out of himself in the school bathroom, he dried off and headed to class. On his way he saw Francis and his soccer playing friends, hanging out near the entrance of the building. Aren't these guys ever doing anything? This isn't some bloody teen movie where all the hot people do is stand around and smile, go read a book goddammit! And why are they in their soccer uniforms all the time? There isn't even a game today! It's like they're trying to annoy me. Go get some new clothes, you lazy asses! Arthur scowled at the group as he walked by when he noticed something. Francis was standing awfully close to a brunette boy with a cat in his hand. He looked a little Greek and it was easy to tell that he was far more interested in his pet than in the French teen but he continued to smile and hold a conversation and that was enough for Francis. Arthur's eye twitched involuntarily.

What the Hell is that bloody wanker doing? He can't be flirting, no, he can't be. Why would he flirt with that hippie rather than me? I mean I'm standing right here! Oh, I see his game, the bloody git wants me to get jealous! Well, ha! That's not going to happen you fucking frog, so go ahead. Keep flirting! I don't give a damn! I'm going to class...The English boy tried to leave but his eyes were locked on the flirty French boy. He could feel anger welling up inside him as Francis laughed and gently rubbed the cat behind the ears, while grinning at the Grecian. Well, don't they look so fucking chummy? Bet they wouldn't be so friendly if that Greek git knew that Francis is mine!-whoa, not mine. That's not what I meant...I mean that, he's not the thing that... Stop getting on my case, stupid brain, I'm angry! Arthur sauntered over to Francis glaring, but the French boy couldn't have looked happier to see him.

"Ah mon amour, how are you?" he smiled, grasping the Brit's arms and kissing him on both cheeks, so Arthur slapped him across the face.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he demanded. Francis' hand was already on his face, trying to cool down the burning area on his cheek.

"What was that for?"

"You're the one who was trying to rape me!"

"I was just saying hello, you idiot. That's how we salute people in my country!" Francis explained, irritated.

"Well, it's stupid," the Brit replied, a little taken back by the French boy's irritation. He hadn't expected for him to get upset.

"What do you want Arthur?" Francis sighed. That's when the English boy realized everyone was looking at him.

"Um, well you, and the cat, it's just, I, never mind," he fumbled, trying to back out of the situation.

"Aw, your boyfriend's jealous," the Greek boy smiled, lazily. Arthur quickly glared at him, even the boy's cat seemed to be mocking him.

"I'm British, I don't get jealous," Arthur retorted.

"Yea right, asshole," snickered Lovino. "We saw you watching Francis for like twenty minutes now."

"Shut up!"

"Wait," Gilbert laughed. "You didn't deny being Francis' boyfriend," he realized. Arthur could feel his face getting warm.

"That's because it was so utterly ridiculous I didn't believe it merited a response," the English boy claimed. The soccer players surrounding him, chuckled, it was obvious to see the Brit was flustered.

"Come on guys, arrete. Leave him alone," Francis said calmly.

"I don't need you to protect me," Arthur snapped at the French boy. "I can handle myself!" Francis studied the Brit for a moment and shook his head as he sighed.

"I'm sure you can," he responded, rolling his eyes. "I just don't want to be late for class. Anger Management is growing to be a complete waste time," he claimed as he looked the Brit directly in the eyes with his last couple of words. Arthur was a little taken back by this comment and stood there silently as the soccer players disappeared around his as he headed to class. He's got to be talking about the class, right? I mean, I hate it too. That's got to be it, he assured himself but he couldn't help but feel a little anxious as he walked into the classroom. It doesn't matter, I can't let that French bastard get to me. Arthur's heart missed a beat when he realized Francis wasn't sitting in his usual seat up front, but with his buddies in the back. When he quickly glanced at the Frog, he was laughing with his friends but Arthur could see that he was keeping his eye on him, watching to see how he'd react. I'm not, the Brit decided, as he sat down, determined not to look at Francis. I don't give a damn if he wants to sit next to me, I can focus much better this way. I'm glad he moved.

"Welcome back," smiled Mr. Vargas. He looked around his classroom and the students looked a lot less aggravated then they were originally. Especially the sexually frustrated English boy that sat in the front. Well, he wasn't less angry rather, his anger appeared to be more concentrated on a certain Francis, causing his anger towards other things just started to fizzle out. "It's great to see you guys, for some reason I feel like I haven't seen you in a long time."

Arthur sat in his desk and rolled his eyes at his cheery professor. Actually he's not really a professor since I've learned absolutely nothing from him. He just keeps us here, trapped like animals until that infernal bell rings. Oh god, he's talking to me! What did he say? Why is he just standing there, I better say something!

"Sure," Arthur shrugged. Mr. Vargas looked at him for a minute and the Brit wouldn't have minded if he hadn't noticed that the rest of the class was now looking at him as well. "What?"

"I asked why you aren't sitting with Senior Francis? Are you two having a lovers' quarrel?" he asked, brown eyes highlighted with concern.

"Funny."

"What's so funny about it?" the older Italian asked.

"The idea that Francis and I are lovers."

"Isn't that why you're always looking at him?"

"I... Those are glares. I don't like him!"

"Really?" Francis interrupted. A moderate silence fell on the room as the students stopped talking to watch the French teen speak.

"Yes, really! I bloody hate you, you git!" Arthur turned to face the Frog.

"Hate? You hate me?"

"That's what I said, isn't it?"

"Hate?" Francis repeated slowly. "That's what you're calling it?"

"That's what it is!"

"So you make out with people you hate? Go on dates with people you hate?Get jealous of people you hate?" Francis asked, getting angrier with each passing question.

"No, I'm not a slut like you. I was forced into all those things!"

"Alright, that's it," Francis claimed, rising from his seat. "Mr. Vargas, can Arthur and I have a minute?"

"Um, sure. Go ahead and step outside," the Roman nodded. The French boy smiled kindly at the teacher before glaring at the Brit. "Let's go." Shit, he looks like he wants to murder me...Arthur sunk lower into his seat.

"I'm not going anywhere, I don't want to miss the lesson," he said, unconvincingly. Everyone looked at him, but he kept his eyes steadfast on the front of the room. Francis could see that the English boy was being even more stubborn, so he glanced at Gilbert who got the message.

"Hey, Mr. V, you wanna know what would be awesome?" the albino grinned, getting out of seat. "Class outside, on the soccer field, let's go," he finished, leading everyone out the door.

"I don't think that's allowed," the teacher claimed, furrowing his eyebrows as his class filed out of the room.

"I won't tell if you don't," Gilbert winked, high fiving Antonio as he passed him.

"Well, I suppose, the fresh air can be calming and we can practice some breathing exercises that help reduce frustration," he realized.

"Yea, that's all wonderful, let's go!" The teacher smiled and headed for the door, with Arthur trying to stay close behind him but before he could exit the albino stopped him.

"Sorry cupcake, my buddy wants to talk to you and it wouldn't be very awesome of me to let you go," Gilbert smiled before he shut the door in the Brit's face. Arthur slowly turned to face Francis, who in the vaguest sense, did not look happy. Oh God, he's going to kill me and he's going to have that bloody albino cover for him. No one will ever know I'm gone, except maybe Alfred and Mattie. I can't die now, what will become of my eyebrows? There's no way this Frog will find them a good home, I just know they'll end up wandering the city, alone and cold...I can't let that happen!

"Listen here, you Frog," Arthur began.

"No, you listen," Francis said sternly. "What is wrong with you?"

"I-I don't know what you mean."

"You like me, you hate me, you want nothing to do with me, you get jealous, then you snap at me for trying to help you? I've dated my share of psychos, but at least I was sleeping with them. I don't think I can handle all your crazy," the French boy admitted.

"That's all you fucking care about isn't it? Sex? Well, you aren't going to get it from me, so stop trying!"

"Is that what you think? Mon cher, while I do enjoy getting physical, that's not why I talk to you. That's not why I like you."

"Oh, please, don't give me all that 'you're special' or 'you're the one' crap. I know as soon as I do anything with you, you'll just leave."

"Well, isn't that what you want? Me, out of your life?" asked Francis gently, moving closer to Arthur.

"I-yes, but not like that!"
"You see, I don't believe you," the blond smirked. "I think you're having a really hard time, dealing with how you feel about me, your real feelings," Arthur stepped back. How I feel about you? I feel nothing! I'm more in love with a rock! If that rock had blond hair and deep blue eyes, that seemed to go on forever. No Arthur! You promised you wouldn't do this, not again.

"Yes, you're right. I'm having a really hard time dealing with how I feel about you. I don't know how to control my emotions," the English boy admitted. Francis stepped closer slightly but Arthur wasn't done. "ALL THIS HATE I FEEL FOR YOU JUST HAS ME BURSTING AT THE SEAMS!"

The blond moved back, visibly hurt by the Brtion's words. "Why do you say things like that?"

"Because that's what I mean!"

"Really?" Francis asked. "Because I can't take anymore of this. If you really still despise me so much. I'll go. We won't have to see each other around school, I'll be with my friends and you'll be with yours and we go on for the rest of the school year, just ignoring each other." Arthur stood still, contemplating the Frog's words. He's finally getting it! I don't know why it took him so bloody long!

"Alright," the Brit nodded. "Then, I guess you should go."

"Is that what you want?" Francis asked sternly.

"It's what you want," the Brit replied quietly.

"Mon Dieu Arthur, you don't even... ugh. I can't take this anymore. I literally, can not take, anymore of your bullshit. Au Revoir." Arthur watched as the French teen exited the room, as Francis refused to look at him. The simple sound of the door shutting echoed loudly through classroom, reverberating through Arthur's ears, then soon the Brit was surrounded, by complete, and utter, silence.


A/N: So what did you think? I love to hear what you guys think about this story, so please review :)

Thanks for reading!