When Arthur finally arrived at his flat, he was exhausted. Arguing with Francis did take quite a toll on his energy, and all he wanted to do was fall into bed and pass out. However, when he finally undressed and got into bed, he quickly realized that there was no way he was going to fall asleep, not after everything that had just happened. All he could think about was the way that Francis had kissed him so abruptly, without even thinking about it. Francis's impulsiveness annoyed Arthur. How could he remain friends with him if all Francis wanted to do was make out all the time? What bothered Arthur even more was the fact that he sort of enjoyed the kiss. He hated to admit it, but Francis was a great kisser, even if he was a guy.

Arthur hated himself so much for feeling this way. He wasn't supposed to be falling in love with Francis, but he couldn't help it. Francis's charm was slowly starting to work its way into Arthur's system. He was just so confused by what was going on his head versus what was happening in his heart. They just wouldn't sync together no matter how hard he tried. His mind told him that he shouldn't be in love with another man, but his heart screamed, "Screw it!"

All Arthur knew for sure at the moment was that it was way too early for him to be in bed. He looked at the clock. It was only 7:13. No wonder he couldn't sleep. Getting up, he decided a nice cup of tea would help him relax. He wandered out to the kitchen, the sudden bright light of the lamp nearly blinding him. He stumbled to the cupboard, and immediately remembered that he didn't have any tea at the moment, so he decided he would have to make a quick trip to the market down the block. He didn't want to leave his flat, but he was desperate for something to drink, other than water or the half empty whisky bottle he had stashed in the back of the cupboard. He would not be getting drunk tonight, so he quickly dressed and threw on his coat and shoes, and he was out the door, into the bitter air that seemed to hang around all year in Arthur's neighborhood.

It was still snowing when Arthur descended the steps down onto the sidewalk, which surprised him. It almost never snowed this much in London. Maybe it was a sign or something. He walked slowly so he could appreciate the beauty of the freshly fallen snow, but he remembered what Francis had said. There was something about the look on his face when he said it. "The snowflakes are falling, just like I fell for you." Arthur had no idea what was going through Francis's mind when he said that, but it broke his heart. Francis's eyes were the most disturbing thing about it, though. They seemed to show no emotion when he said it, but his voice was filled with warmth and love, and Arthur wondered just how broken Francis was. When his friends were there, though, he seemed to be just fine. Either Francis was really good at hiding his emotions, or he had gotten over it very quickly. It worried Arthur that Francis didn't want him to see how he was really feeling. Arthur could help Francis get better, but if that's not what Francis wanted, then what did he want? Arthur couldn't stand all of these mixed emotions flying around in his head. He wanted to scream.

Arthur turned the corner and eventually made his way to the little market that he had been to so many times before. He pushed the door open and stepped in. The friendly atmosphere was almost enough to make him feel completely relaxed. He wandered over to where the tea was and grabbed several boxes. He decided that tea was all he wanted to buy, and he just wanted to get home as quick as he could. He made his way to the cashier and quickly purchased the tea. He was about to leave, but he could've sworn he heard someone calling his name. He quickly spun around when he heard someone shout, "Arthur, amigo, what are you doing here?" Oh bollocks. He did not have the patience to deal with Antonio right now.

"Hello, Antonio," Arthur responded, surprised by his own cheeriness.

Antonio had finally caught up to Arthur at the entrance of the market. "Hola! What a coincidence that I would find you here. Gilbert finally scored a date with that secretary from the hospital. I don't know what they're up to right now, but I wouldn't want to know anyway. I decided to come here to pass the time by browsing through the weird food items that you have here in England. By the way, what on Earth is spotted dick?"

"I have no idea, nor do I care." Arthur was glad Antonio had finally stopped talking.

"It sounds like a good time. Want me to buy a can so we can find out? We can share it."

"No, thanks. I'm good," Arthur responded. He was getting uncomfortable here, talking with a stranger who had no idea that Arthur saw him as a stranger. All Arthur wanted was to go home and drink his tea. Was that so much to ask?

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I am one hundred percent sure that I don't want to eat something called spotted dick."

"Okay, suit yourself," Antonio sighed, looking somewhat disappointed.

"Anyway, I should be going, I have a few episodes of Doctor Who that I need to catch up on."

"I love that show!" Antonio smiled, and his emerald green eyes lit up. His expression eerily resembled Francis when he had that hopeful look. Arthur hated how everything seemed to remind him of Francis. He just couldn't get the frog out of his mind, and it was driving him insane.

"Yeah, me too," Arthur replied. "Well, bye." He turned to leave, but Antonio followed him. What was Arthur going to have to do to get rid of this annoying Spaniard?

"Would you mind if I came over and watched it with you? I have nothing to do because Gilbert's on a date and Lovino is pissed off at me. Please," Antonio begged.

"What makes you think I'm not busy," Arthur replied. There was no way he was allowing this messy-haired kid into his flat. Even if he was friends with Francis, he was still a stranger to Arthur.

"I don't know. Maybe the fact that you just said you were going home to watch TV, alone."

"Good point, but I really just want to be alone tonight."

"Okay, that's fine. Adios." Antonio waved then turned and walked the other way.

He is such an odd man. Arthur shrugged it off and headed home, snowflakes still slowly drifting down.

Arthur continued walking, slowly at first, but he sped up when the cold had finally crept beneath his clothes and all over his skin. He couldn't wait to get home, make tea, and warm himself up.

When Arthur had finally gotten home, he could not be more grateful for the warmth of his sofa. He turned on the television and changed the channel. Nothing was more relaxing and familiar to Arthur than the Doctor Who theme song. While it was playing, he got up to make himself some tea. He put the kettle on the burner and turned the stove on, watching the flame come to life.

When his tea was finally done, he poured it into a cup and sat back down, and continued to watch the show. He let the world of space and time and aliens completely surround him until he was no longer aware of what was happening around him. He was broken out of his daze when he heard a knock on the door. Oh great. It's probably Antonio. I don't have time for this. He got up and walked to the door. Looking through the peephole, he noticed a green eye staring right back at him. Good thing it was a one-way peephole. Bloody hell, what does he want. Arthur flung the door open, preparing to yell at Antonio and tell him to leave him alone. What he did not count on was seeing his older brother, hair redder than a robin's chest and eyes bright green, standing on his doorstep.

"Allistor, what the bloody hell are you doing here?"


Francis watched as Arthur walked away for the second time that day, and once again, it made his heart sink. He didn't want Arthur to leave, but he didn't want to force him to stay. Besides, it was getting late, and visitors weren't allowed past 8:00. He just felt so empty when he was alone, he hated himself for never feeling complete without Arthur. If only Francis could convince himself that Arthur was the problem, not the solution, his mental health would probably improve a great deal. But Arthur wasn't the problem, was he? Francis had no idea if he loved Arthur, or he just loved the idea of being in love. He had been thinking about it a lot lately, and he came to the conclusion that he had fallen head-over-heels for Arthur at first, as did he with all of his crushes, but now he wasn't sure if he could continue this. It was torture to him, and he knew that Arthur couldn't be enjoying it either. But what if he actually was in love with Arthur, and what if Arthur loved him back? Francis knew that Arthur told him he thought of him as just a friend, but what if he was lying? Arthur could just as well be as confused about his feelings as Francis was. Arthur just did a whole lot better at hiding his feelings than Francis did. Arthur covered up his love with insults and "frogs" and "asshats," but Francis had straight out confessed his love to him, like in a cheesy romance novel.

Sometimes Francis wished he could go back in time to the night he and Arthur had met, at that bar that Francis hadn't been to in forever. He wished that he could somehow stop himself from even talking to Arthur in the first place, but then he snapped out of it. Why would he want to forget Arthur? While Arthur was one of the worst things to happen to Francis, he was also one of the greatest people he had ever had the pleasure to meet.

Francis wondered if the other employees at the bar worried about where he was. Probably not. They hated me. Francis had worked in a gay bar, but somehow he still received horrible nicknames, most were derogatory terms that he did not appreciate. Every once in a while, a group of obviously heterosexual men would come in just to cause trouble. A couple were even rumored to have committed murder because they couldn't let go of their unnecessary prejudices. Francis had no place in his heart for homophobic people. In his mind, they were just jealous losers who don't appreciate the idea of love. To Francis, all love was beautiful, no matter who it was. That's how he was raised, and that's what he believed. He also believed that no one should think any different.

Francis hadn't realized that the snow had finally let up just a bit, and he was glad. Staring at the falling flakes for too long made him dizzy, even if it was one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen. All he wanted now was to sleep, but every time he closed his eyes, he saw Arthur. Attempting to forget about Arthur was futile, so he turned over and watched Feliciano's chest rise up and down, supported only by the machine he was plugged into. He wondered if the little guy was dreaming about something nice, like a world in which he could be with Ludwig. Suddenly, Francis was jealous of Feliciano. He got to be asleep and away from the cruelty of the world; Francis was stuck there, awake and in pain.

Francis knew that there was a way that he could end the pain, end it all in fact, but he would never go there, not without Arthur.


Note:If you didn't know already, Allistor is Scotland.