Cigarettes and Valentines

When Alfred and Arthur had left, to the bar this time. They were just supposed to leave for a while, but a while was all that was needed for a fight to break out between the two people they had left behind.

And this little arguement had gone too far this time. It had started when, out of the blue, Francis had asked if Mathew wanted him to forget about him and if that had been his goal all along. That was a breaking point.

Francis reached out to try and catch Mathew's hand. He reached out and grabbed nothing. "Please, Mathew. I promise that I will never forget about you!"

Mathew turned back around to face him, furious, and this time Francis managed to grasp his hand. Even while panting from anger and exertion, Mathew fought to shake off his grip. He couldn't, but his words made Francis let go of his hand anyway.

"You promised that exact thing before, many many years ago! You whispered it into my hair as I was crying and England was standing there ready to take me away. And do you know what happened after that? You forgot about me! I never even heard from you for hundreds of years. Even when I became my own nation, you never once looked at me as if you truly remembered me. There were just a few times where you recognized me, and your words to others and myself all of those times made it seem like I was nothing more than a trophy child to you. A prize to be flaunted at England whenever he got mad at you or you felt like annoying him for some reason. Like, ha, I used to own this, isn't that great? Too bad you didn't have him first, England. Because of you, France, I have never felt as if I was anything more than that to you."

When they got back to the house from their short walk, they both pretended like nothing had even happened. That had only seemed to make Mathew angrier inside though. He was skilled at hiding what he felt by now, so he was still able to hide even this heightened emotion. He'd had plenty of practice beforehand he could credit for his wonderful acting he supposed.

His acting held up until Mathew noticed Francis was also acting differently towards him. He was acting cold and indifferent, and that Mathew had to get to the bottom of. Mathew cornered Francis later to give him a piece of his mind on this. He trapped Francis against a corner in the hallway by his bedroom and asked him the question that had been on his mind.

"Are you trying to make a mockery of me?" Mathew asked.

Mathew loved how Francis immediately knew what he was talking about despite how random the question would seem to anyone else.

"Not at all, my dear. My behavior towards you since we got home is me merely questioning if you are aware of yourself right now."

"Of course I am."

Francis hummed then replied back. "I believe that remains to be seen."

"You are trying to make fun of me."

"I have already told you that that is the farthest thing from my mind right now."

"I am so ugly, Francis. You only like pretty things. Why would you ever want to stay with me here?"

"You know for a fact that I don't see you as being ugly."

"But that's how I see myself." Mathew replied.

Francis pulled Mathew forward into a hug. "Oh Canada, I'm sorry you feel that way. If I could, I would try to change your mind. But you're the only one that can convince yourself otherwise with that."

"I know."

"Then start doing so."

"I don't know if I can."

This feels a bit disjounted to me. I don't think it flows too well, but I xan'y figure out how. If you notice anything glaringlyobvious, please tell me. Thank you. I hope you guys have a great Sunday.