"I'll be back for Christmas," Arthur promised as he embraced his mother and waved goodbye with his siblings. Francis couldn't help but smile a little at the gesture — after all, Arthur was quite lucky to have his family still willing forgive him. Even if Angus was reluctant at first, they all came to forgive him in the end, and now Arthur was smiling again. Forgiveness might've been hard for the Kirkland family, but everyone deserved a second chance, after all.

After Francis bid goodbye to the Kirklands too, he and Arthur boarded the next train back to London.

Rather than talking like Francis had thought, there was a quiet, strangely tense atmosphere on the train between the two. Or at least, a tense atmosphere on Arthur's side. He tapped his fingers onto his knee, he sat forward on the edge of the seat, his brow was locked in a frown and Francis noticed that the tip of his ears were redder than normal. Francis was about to ask if he was alright when Arthur cleared his throat. "So…" he started, his voice urging to be nonchalant, though with a sense of panic underneath. Why was he so tense?

"So?" Francis asked, turning over to Arthur. Arthur glanced towards him for a split second before he looked away. He fiddled with his hands as he turned his gaze downwards. What was it that was making Arthur so nervous?

"Nevermind. Erm-!" Arthur chewed his bottom lip and glanced up. "Erhm, I mean erhm…" he rubbed the back of his head. "I… no, nevermind."

"Ah." Francis nodded and settled back in the seat. Once again, the awkward atmosphere stretched between them. Though Francis knew that Arthur got anxious easily, he also knew that Arthur's socializing skills had improved recently, so much so that it was miles ahead of when they first met. Plus, he tied up all loose ends with his family, so why was he still so nervous?

Francis looked back at his memories. He had been fine yesterday, too, did something happen this morning? Last night?

His train of thought ended when he reminded himself that playing detective on things you didn't know would just complicate the matter too much. Whatever Arthur was going through, he could tell him once he was ready.

Francis glanced back at Arthur. Thankfully, he seemed calmer now. Arthur's green eyes were half lidded and focused on his phone. The sun highlighted an almost golden halo around his silhouette. Francis couldn't help but smile— he had always thought that Arthur was at best average looking. Arthur had a short, square face, far from the athletic angles of those Roman marble statues. He wasn't in the best shape either due to his broken nose and darkening bruises. Maybe it was the setting sun's magic, but something about Arthur looking so calm in its light gave Francis this feeling of peace. For a split second, he could argue that Arthur looked pretty in the sunlight. Sighing, he leaned onto the armrest.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" Arthur exclaimed. Something about the tone almost made Francis chuckle. Oh, Arthur and his swears.

"What is it?" He asked as he sat up and glanced over. Arthur shoved his phone into his face. "Oh my god."

"Edgar Allan Poe is back in action!" Sure enough, Arthur's Edgar Allan Poe poster was vandalised again, on the floor next to a bottle of whiteout and a marker, with the message up yours added. Arthur looked away as he threw a laughing fit so much tears were beginning to come out of his eyes. "Goddammit Angus," he muttered as he chortled. It was so rare that Arthur smiled this much, much less laughed like this, that Francis felt giddy inside at the sight, or maybe it was that Arthur had an infectious laughter. Hah, if something could make someone as serious as Arthur laugh this much, it had to be hilaious. A small chuckle escaped out of his mouth before it erupted into full-blown laughter.

But once the other passengers started looking at their way, they had to stop. Arthur's laughter withered and died as quickly as it had started. After clearing his throat, he looked down at his phone again and the atmosphere returned back to its original state.

"Oh, and by the way, about the… erhm, earlier," Arthur started. Francis glanced towards him. What did he want to say? Arthur glanced down then back up as he chewed his bottom lip. "Thanks… for… convincing me back here? Cause, I - erhm, I wouldn't have ever come back here without your encouragement. So, thanks. Thank you, I mean." Francis blinked.

"Oh, no no!" Francis gave a small chuckle to let Arthur know it was alright. "It wasn't me at all, you did most of the work."

"Well, you convinced me to give everyone a second chance! That's enough. Erhm, I think some bloke said that getting started means you're basically halfway there or something like that. Heh. Yeah, erhm…" Arthur looked down at his fiddling hands. Francis realised that Arthur had been fiddling his hands around him a lot today. It was definitely around him, because he hadn't been acting that way around his family.

"Arthur? Are… you alright there?" What did he do?

Arthur looked up, his bottle green eyes wide. He scrunched his eyebrows and exhaled as he turned his head to the side, and Francis swore that an apple red colour dusted his cheeks.

"No need to be jittery, you're still cute when you're flustered," he joked. Arthur whipped his head back, his face a full on beet red and his eyes wide. Francis blinked.

"Fuck this! Erhm, Francis, do you remember last night?"

Last night! Francis furrowed his eyebrows. "What happened last night?"

"You know how we slipped under the… actually no, the erhm…" Francis raised an eyebrow. The tips of Arthur's ears were red, and though he did his best to keep his expression neutral, Francis could see that Arthur was panicking.

"Blanket?"

At the word, Arthur drew a deep breath in.

Yep, that was it.

He recollected what happened last night. They slipped under a blanket, then he dozed off, and woke up when Arthur said he needed to go. What was too wrong with that? Francis furrowed his eyebrows as he recollected more. Well, there was that point where Francis realised that leaning against Arthur made him noticeably warmer than without him once they woke up.

Had he leaned too close?

Oh.

Francis' cheeks heated up as his insides squirmed like tangled up eels.

"Oh." He inhaled, untangling through his hair with his fingers to try and calm down. "I… I see."

The rest of the way back was too uncomfortable for light conversation. Of course, that was to be expected, especially after… that. The revelation. Arthur, being too flustered to speak, opted to pay attention to his phone. Francis huffed as he stared at his phone for a little while longer.

"Arthur, there's no need to fret. We just fell asleep against each other, that was all. It wasn't like we had a… a drunken one-night stand or anything." Francis gave a small chuckle.

Arthur furrowed his eyebrows and twisted his lips. He glanced back and put up a small smile before he focused on his phone again.

After that, it was quiet for both of them.

Antonio was there at the train station waiting for them. He welcomed him back with a smile and Francis smiled back. They walked back to the apartment block and dropped Arthur off at his apartment before Antonio and Francis returned to their own.

Arthur slammed the door behind him as he stumbled into his apartment and leaned on the solid wood. The silence was crushing, only broken by his thumping heart, his raspy panting, and the muted traffic outside.

Drawing in one final deep breath, Arthur breathed out. But that did nothing to stop the millions of bolts of thoughts that zipped inside his mind.

Arthur grasped his chest as a kaleidoscope of butterflies erupted inside his chest. What was that? Why did he feel this way? Why was he so jittery and nervous at the mere thought of Francis? No no, he needed to organise his thoughts. Arthur reminded himself to breathe. He took a deep breath in to soak up his jitters and then a deep breath out to expel them. Slowly but surely, he calmed down.

Of course, glimpse of moments from the past few days flashed, and Arthur felt the butterflies coming back. Not just their moment under the blanket, though that certainly got him flustered, but how Francis consoled him and supported his confusion, how they joked around at the suits shop…

Was it just platonic? Arthur wanted to say yes. Sure, he was thankful that Francis was with him, and sure, he knew that thinking about Francis made him flustered now. But what they did was not necessarily romantic, friends could do those things too, right? Well… he didn't know, he wasn't some romance expert like Jane Austen or Nicholas Sparks! He never dabbled into the romance stuff much, save the occasional one-night stand during his uni days and he had never been interested in starting a relationship -

No, what was he thinking? Francis wouldn't be interested anyway. Even if he was, Francis still had his former fiancée, and Arthur doubted that he was ready to move on from them yet. Besides, they were doing well as friends, no need to stop that now.

He doubted that he knew enough about romance anyway. Arthur never asked anyone out on a date and never got asked out either. All those one-night stands he had had were never serious. Hell, before he met Francis, he never had as close a friendship with any of his co-workers or uni colleagues.

Arthur had to remind himself that he was thinking too far ahead. Think about it, he told himself. The reason he was feeling this way was because the moment under the blanket last night had embarrassed him, which caused some subconscious part of him to treat all the memories he had with Francis as romantic even though what they did was just things regular friends did. Arthur hadn't had a good friend like Francis for a long time, so maybe feeling this way was normal. It was too early to claim that he had some sort of crush, and Francis likely only saw him as a friend, too. Nothing more, nothing less.

What else did he know? Erhm… Arthur read somewhere that crushes only last about 3 months, so if he could keep this up for 3 more months, wait for it to pass, everything would be normal as always and they could still be friends. If it still carried on… he didn't know, wait a little longer, he supposed.

From experience, Arthur knew that fretting over things as important as this never did anything. If anything, it only drove him further into a deep, dark rabbit hole, so for now he could let the matter rest and leave it at that.

Arthur realised that it was near dinner time. Mum had packed him a meal when he left, so maybe he could eat that now. He reached for his suitcase and unzipped it before pulling out a lunchbox, now only mildly lukewarm. Standing up, he walked to the microwave and heated his meal up. After that, the rest of his evening would almost certainly be uneventful.

That night as he laid in bed staring at the rungs of Antonio's bunk, Francis couldn't stop replaying that moment on the train. How flustered Arthur was, how Arthur was so nervous - he hadn't laughed off what had happened last night. He had been genuinely flustered by it. Francis couldn't be sure, but... was it possible that Arthur had a small crush on him but was too nervous to admit it?

Francis shook his head. No, it was too early to know about this thing. Besides, Arthur was already quite shy, so it could just be that he was embarrassed about last night but was too prideful to admit it. One thing was for sure, Arthur trusted Francis. He must've trusted him a lot to get to this point.

Did he love Arthur? Well, love was a strong word. He certainly loved him as a friend. They supported each other, confided in each other, cared about each other - all the things friends did - and they could continue to do that while still being friends.

Of course, Francis had to face the fact that he had spent more time with Arthur than Antonio or Gilbert. There was this sense of security within Arthur, a security Francis could rely on without fear. Something similar to how Arthur had done bad things just like him, and so he would be a little more forgiving and understanding to whatever he was going through.

He had to face it, it was a little selfish of him to see Arthur simply as that. But again, Francis had a feeling that Arthur felt the same for him, from how he always confided in him. It wasn't like Francis used him like a therapist or vice versa, they still understood each other and told each other jokes… though Francis wasn't sure if he was apt enough to be more than Arthur's friend yet.

What was love? He asked himself. Love was caring about someone or something so much that you'd put the needs of that person over your own. The beginnings always seemed so beautiful and simple and exhilarating, something that revived you and erupted butterflies inside your stomach. Being in love was being bold, daring. Love made you bold and daring. Daring enough to flirt, gift flowers and chocolates, whisper poetry into each other's ear, and fall in love with every moment of those shared memories…

Francis frowned. He and Arthur did none of the flirting or giving gifts, of course, but that was because they saw each other as friends rather than anything romantic. Well, he wouldn't be too reluctant to try that, no, not at all. They could test the waters and either pursue their relationship or be friends again.

A jolt chorused through his body when he reminded himself that this was the same train of thought that came up just before his relationship with Lisa.

Lisa was someone who he had shared a relationship with for much longer than any of the flings he had in highschool had lasted. She had reminded him of someone he once had a crush on in primary (Joan?), so he befriended her and Lisa had ended up confessing her feelings and… well, they got engaged the following year. But even though his relationship with her was the longest, there had still been problems in it. Lisa had wanted to move out of France, Francis wanted to stay. For a long time, Francis wanted to believe that it was his fault that their relationship failed, and that Lisa did nothing wrong. Was he right? Was he wrong? He didn't know. All he knew was that Lisa was gone because of his arrogance, because if he had been a little more patient, Lisa would've still been alive and happy, and he wouldn't be so miserable and -

He stopped himself. No, he was starting to get off topic. It had happened. It had happened and it would be this way forever, so there was no need to be this harsh on himself. Breathe in, breathe out. A deep, cold breathe in to soak up the insecurities, and a breath out to expel it, and repeat.

A last exhale later and he was back in the room again, staring at the rungs beneath Antonio's bunk. Francis frowned and looked down while he crossed his arms, thinking. It was a second before he knew what he needed to do.

He had to see the ring again. Maybe if he saw it, he could figure out where to go from there.

Francis rolled over and pulled out the drawer. It should be at the back, underneath all those clothes…

It was still there. Cold, smooth, round. A strange sensation spread through Francis as soon as he touched that ring, buzzing and stinging like a swarm of wasps inside every one of his veins.

Its twin was on the road. Dented, scratched, covered in oozing red blood. Lisa's blood. And he had been so oblivious to everything

He had to let go of that ring.

Whether he liked Arthur too or not, Francis didn't know if he was ready for a new relationship yet. There was this innate paranoia that their previous friendship would be ruined so they couldn't go back, and… there was always this fear that Arthur would get hurt because of him.

A long, heavy sigh escaped his lips. No, not now. It was late, maybe he could sort it out the next day. Closing the drawer, Francis rolled back in place and fell into a dreamless sleep.

Special thanks to GokuSuperSaiyanTime for editing this chapter!