The time for choosing a venue to host and have the wedding was becoming more and more tedious as the day drew near to its end. Francis had brought Arthur to almost all the locations on his list, none of which, Arthur approved of.

Currently, Arthur and Francis walked through the next place on the list; a banquet hall that seemed almost too expensive for Arthur's taste.

It was a huge hall, able to fit at least five hundred guests, including themselves. It was nice, carpeted flooring, bright lighting, pre-set tables, but it didn't really fit Arthur's description of a venue.

"…I don't know about this…" He made a face, a twist between confused and disgusted,"…aren't there any other places we could check out?"

Francis yawned, and taking a hold of Arthur's hand he pulled him towards the exit, "There is one other place."

Driving around for hours was exhausting as well. If he knew that he was going to be dragged around for this long, he would have just booked the wrecked up banquet hall.

Finally pulling over, Francis parked into the space, turned off the car, unbuckled his seat belt and sighed, "…well?"

"…You've got to be fucking kidding me." Arthur huffed in disbelief, a twinge of anger in his voice, "…He lied to you, verbally abused you for your entire life, and you want to have our wedding and the reception here?"

Francis turned to look at Arthur with soft eyes, "He is still my father. I know we have never had the 'ideal' relationship of a father and son, but what would you rather have? A father who was never there, or a father who has isolates himself from the world?" He twisted the engagement ring on his finger nervously, "…He has never been there for me, has never told me that he loved me, or spent any time with me, other than when I needed to be at management lessons." He pulled Arthur close, being mindful of the cup holders and other objects that separated their seats, "…When I met you, and we talked for a while, you acted in such a brash manner." He laughed almost bitterly, "I am so envious. You receive many phone calls over the weekends, from your siblings. You are always yelling at them, and laughing with them. I never had that experience; I never had anyone but myself."

"So…" Francis lifted himself up a bit from his seat, "…When he told me for the very first time in twenty years that he was proud of me; I cried. I cried because I know that everyone in this world has problems bottled up, but I was so selfish and immature. I suffered alone, and because of that, I wanted to just end it all."

Francis kept his eyes down, while Arthur kept his mouth shut from saying anything that would make the situation any more painful for Francis.

The silence was deafening.

Gathering all the strength he could stir up from all the awkwardness, he hugged Francis; brought his head down so that he could use his shoulder, "…Sometimes…it's alright to cry…" He combed his fingers through his lover's hair, "…You'll feel better afterwards." Blushing, he lifted Francis' head, so that they were now looking directly in each other's eyes, "I do love you, don't you ever forget that, alright?"

He wiped away his tears with some tissue from the box near him, took a deep breath, and genuinely smiled, "…You are the only thing in my life that keeps me grounded; anchored down." Arthur hugged him tightly, once more and concluded.

"We'll have the reception and ceremony here then, if it really is important to you." Arthur opened their doors with the switch as they both stepped out, "I just want you to feel comfortable being married in a place that makes you feel secure."

All signs of possible sorrow were washed away completely by Arthur's words. The two stepped into the building, hand in hand, and, taking some papers from the front desk, booked the restaurant and the its hall; signed in black ink, on the dotted line.

Although Arthur was relieved, a huge wave of guilt couldn't help but wash ashore in his heart; Francis had been through so much more than he had, so why was he feeling so…comforted?

Such an emotion was so foreign to him; this "guilt", as one would call it. What made it worse was not that he almost felt reassured with his downfallen life, but that now, they could just be themselves; suffer together.

Back in the car, Francis started it up, and drove around for another few hours; most likely a way to calm down his inner self. He drove past familiar buildings, shops, grocery stores, and when Arthur noticed that Francis had driven past their dorm, he became questionable.

"…Where are we going?" This was new. Francis had never taken Arthur anywhere without of course, giving him all the information he needed.

Francis said nothing, but looked to Arthur for a second before smiling, and turning his view back to the road.

After a few more moments of quiet scenery, and idle chit-chat, Arthur saw his vision go black, a fabric blindfold wrapped comfortably over his eyes, disabling his vision.

He flinched in a panic, about ready to punch someone out, when he felt Francis link their arms together and in a soft voice whispered, "Do not worry cher."

The hand pulled away for a brief moment, Arthur felt the cold air rush in as the passenger door was opened. He felt the hand reach for his to help him up, followed by the sound of the car door shutting behind him.

"…W-where are we?" He stuttered, obviously confused and afraid, "…I swear if this is a set up for something that's going to hurt, I will…" Well, there wasn't really anything negative he could say; this was his fiancé, after all, "…never mind." He huffed through his temporary blindness.

They walked, slowly though, through a narrow path-like hall that Arthur concluded was also quite "scary". He knew he had to trust Francis with leading him down the path, but his feet wouldn't listen to him. He took wary steps, small and shaky, but eventually he had made it to the end. His blindfold was removed.

What awaited him wasn't anything less than glamorous. An almost electric coloured line of sports vehicles was wide spread in a (what appeared to be) concrete warehouse.

"…What the…?" Arthur was dumbfounded; in such a shock that he himself couldn't even find the words to express it.

"The transportation…" Francis started, "for the wedding. You may choose one here."

Arthur walked along the only lane visible to access the vehicles. The lot was mostly expensive cars, limousines, Lamborghinis, convertibles, sport cars. How was supposed to pick one from the best of the best?

He continued walking until his eyes caught a glimpse of a bright red sports car at the very end of the "garage", "...hmm…"

Opening the car door, he slid himself into the driver's seat, closing the door to his left.

"…You know…" Arthur laughed to himself, "…where I lived before, we drove on the opposite side of the road."

Francis leant on the side of the car, "That must have been troublesome."

"I always thought it was normal, as a child." It was obvious that Arthur was stalling for something, Francis thought, but couldn't put his finger on exactly what it was.

He might as well start with something easy; something to break the thin ice he was already treading on.

"…Will we be using this car as our transportation to the ceremony?" Francis talked as he walked, clicking open the passenger's car door and sitting in the seat.

Arthur replied quickly, "Sure, I don't mind." keeping his head low as always, insecure about something.

Francis wasn't fooled, "Then we will use it."

More silence.

"…We are leaving."

"What?" Arthur all but leapt up from his seat, as Francis turned on the ignition.

"W-where are we going?" Arthur shouted, the car already put into reverse; garage door rising up behind them; sunlight almost gone.

Francis didn't even know himself. Where would they go? Why would they be there?

Would it even matter?

"No…" Francis thought to himself, it wouldn't matter; As long as Arthur was still by his side. As long as all they had were each other; As long as they were together.

When Arthur had finally calmed down, the car was put on neutral as they stopped on the road.

Arthur sighed, giving up all hope of returning to the safe sanctuary of the garage. Being blindfolded from the start, the area was completely foreign to him; "…No where to go but forward."

Changing the gear to drive, he stepped on the gas and just drove.

The only things that coursed through his mind were simple.

Let go.

Let time.

Just be.

The trip continued on for a good couple of miles, at which time Francis turned to Arthur and boldly asked, "…So, what made you so worried earlier?"

Arthur choked on his own words. Unable to speak, he simply turned his gaze further away; he couldn't possible deal with this right now. He felt awful.

It didn't matter though; the guilt was already eating him from the inside out, gnawing at his soul irritably well; and, for that matter, was not helping him at his current goal.

He forfeited. A sense of sentiment; tender heartedness, it was all too much for him to take. He gave in once more.

"…You deserve better."

"Pardon?"

"…better." Arthur repeated again, "better than me."

Clearing his throat, he tried to conceal and traces of sadness in his voice before continuing, "I don't even know how you can stand to put up with me; I know I'm stubborn, I'm up tight, I get mad at people who are remotely kind to me."

Francis was about to cut in, but was suddenly interrupted by Arthur's minimalistic sobs, "…y-you. Y-you're telling me these things; how you want siblings, a stable family…something solid. I have all of those things; yet, I still feel the need to criticise myself; to belittle those around me in order to make myself feel higher."

It was like Déjà vu; he didn't want to have to deal with this again. "…We have already had this talk." Francis had to keep his voice down, although a bit strained and irritated at the fact that he had to re-live this conversation again. He wandered off this train of thought; Arthur had said something like this once, right? "The key to the future may lie in the past." Oh yes, that's right, he was spouting his literature rant at him that time. What that quote had meant, he had no clue; but it made a bit of sense to him.

Arthur on the other end of the situation was already trying to diminish his insecurity; with all that had already happened; that girl's pregnancy, the results, the undying fatigue and anguish; he had realized not too long from his mini-outburst that he was emotionally…distraught?

He was opening up.

Oh, great. It was like they were already married.

Unconsciously, he laughed to himself out loud; at which point Francis was returned back to reality and he and Arthur were staring at each other amusingly.

Everyday was a battlefield; they had no control over that. What they did have control over was their actions; the only tools and ammunition that life supplied them. Make and break; past and present; this would shape their future.

After all, the marriage was only a few weeks away.

"The weakest goes to the wall."