Hey guys thanks so much to those of you who reviewed on the last chapter. Sorry for the wait but with the first semester of college stuff put onto the back burner but don't worry this fic hasn't been abandoned, so without further ado I don't own Hetalia Axis Powers.
"Mon Dieu! I cannot believe zis!" Francis raged scowling down at the unconscious British man beneath him. "I do zat for him and he cannot even ave the grace to say my name!" Francis crawled angrily off of Arthur and stomped out of the room grumbling to himself. He stormed to the Brit's kitchen and yanked open the refrigerator looking for anything with alcohol.
"It ez always Amerique zis and Amerique zat, ever since we discovered zat little brat in ze new world!" Francis, not finding any liquor, slammed the door with disgust. He resorted to ripping open cabinets until he found Arthur's alcohol stash inside the pantry. Francis angrily looked through the different bottles and settled for an almost full bottle of brandy. The nation then found a glass and poured himself a drink before taking a long draught of the liquor. It burned down his throat making Francis shudder and then pant for breath after he was done. Francis grabbed the bottle and the glass and made his way over to Arthur's window overlooking the street. The street below was quiet and illuminated softly with light from the lampposts. Francis took another long drink from his glass and refilled it before leaning against the window frame. He clutched his glass loosely in his hands and set the brandy bottle on the window sill. "Arthur ez a stupide man." Francis huffed angrily.
"What does he see in zat brat? I mean I am obviously so much better zan him…and I've never abandoned Arthur eizer. I have always been here right beside Arthur. Sure we have fought but at least I never left him! I have not scarred Brittan in such a way! And yet he still chooses zat brat over me!"
Francis knocked back more of the alcohol feeling it add to the warmth Francis already felt from his rage. It was true though. Ever since the beginning France and England played an integral part in each other's lives. Their histories lay intertwined with one another. One could hardly think of England and not think of France at the same time. Truth be told the Frenchman couldn't think of his life without the Englishman. Francis glared disdainfully out the window and turned his thoughts on America.
"Amerique is a stupide fool who does not understand the delicateness of anozer's culture. He ez so immature and rash and…and…and he ez stupide!" Francis yelled, too angry to come up with a good insult for the American. He stared angrily out at the street for a while before he sighed and gently rested his head against the cool glass of the window pane.
"I only wish he ad said my name instead."
The next morning Arthur opened his eyes and immediately closed them again. His head was pounding and the pale light from the cloudy London sky sent new daggers of pain through his skull. What in the hell happened last night. Arthur groaned pitifully and managed to drag himself from the bed. His nude state pulled at the edges of his mind but Arthur's headache was pounding too fiercely for him to care about his state of undress. Arthur pulled on his dressing gown and stumbled for the bathroom looking for his bottle of pain medication.
Once he had two pills and a glass of water in his system Arthur felt marginally better and he braved a look at himself in the mirror. He looked like hell. His normally bright viridian eyes were dull and his skin was pale and clammy. Arthur shuddered and then trudged out of his bathroom to go to the kitchen. Nothing helped his hangovers like a good strong cup of Earl Grey. Arthur walked straight to the kettle and filled it with water. He was in the process of fetching a mug when his houseguest made his presence known.
"Hello Arthur," Francis' unmistakable voice cut through the air. The mug crashed to the floor as Arthur whirled around wide eyed to face the Frenchman.
"F-Francis…W-why are you…" Arthur stopped as the events from last night flooded his brain. A hand flew to his mouth as he stared horrified at the man sitting at his counter. Arthur sank to the ground his eyes locked with a cool pair of blue ones. Arthur's mind, now painfully clear, raced. It's not a big deal Kirkland. You've done shit like this with the frog before. But bloody hell, you've never had the audacity to call HIS name. Francis rose from the stool with a catlike grace. He stalked towards the mortified Englishman and crouched in front of him. Arthur's green eyes stood out brightly from his almost colorless face. "I am so sorry Francis," Arthur blurted holding out a hand to stop the other nation's advance. Francis ignored the hand and the apology and kept getting closer to the Brit. He leaned forward and planted his mouth on the frozen Englishman's and kissed the man until with a small moan Arthur caved into the kiss and relaxed. Francis hoped that last night had been a fluke and that he still had a chance with the hot tempered Brit. The Frenchman tried to deepen the kiss but felt his heart shatter when a hand came up and pushed Arthur's eyes were filled with apology and regret. Francis felt the rage that had calmed in the early morning hours bloom once again in his chest.
"He doesn't love you, only a fool would love someone like you," Francis bit out harshly. He tore his eyes away from the man in front of him and rose to his feet. Without another word Francis stormed out of the flat and left Britain on his kitchen floor with tears running down his cheeks. Too bad the biggest fool in the world could never love me Arthur thought burying his face in his knees.
Arthur didn't know how much time had passed before he finally was able to pick himself up off the floor. He thanked God that the meeting for today was set to be a dinner meeting and that he didn't have to be presentable just yet. The clock read two in the afternoon. Arthur sighed with shaky breath. "No doubt I look even worse off than I did this morning." Arthur said dryly trying to fill the crushing silence of his flat. He felt numb, like someone could run him over with a train and he still wouldn't feel anything. Deep down he realized he was resorting to what he called his nation mode. As a nation he had a duty to fulfill even if his personal life was hell. "After all a gentleman is never seen in public looking less than perfect." Arthur repeated to himself clinging to his mantra in order to keep from falling apart.
The ballroom of London's finest hotel was impeccably decorated and the overall atmosphere was one of elegance and sophistication. Arthur smiled slightly as he saw what his months of planning had produced. It seemed that Britain could still throw a dinner with the best of them. So far everything was running smoothly. The chefs were flown in from Italy. It seemed that the other nations didn't appreciate British cuisine and had opted for something else. Arthur sniffed disdainfully; they just couldn't appreciate good food. All that was left was to lay out name cards at the tables and wait for the other nations to arrive. Naturally at the time when Arthur had made the seating chart Francis and him were on speaking terms so unfortunately Arthur knew he was in for an awkward night. There was no time to rearrange everyone so diplomacy was kept so Arthur would just have to rely on his perfect British manners to keep the peace. Arthur took a deep breath and pasted a smile onto his face. It wouldn't do for the host to be in a sour disposition.
The guests began to arrive promptly at half past six with Germany, Austria, Hungary, and Prussia being the first to walk through the door. Arthur watched the albino ex-nation walk past him and had a brief pang of fear. He didn't want to end up like that poor bloke with no county and no place in world affairs. The only reason Prussia was even at the event was because it was a social gathering and official politics weren't being discussed. The other nations slowly filtered in and Arthur greeted each one cordially and implored them to enjoy themselves. When Francis arrived he swept past Arthur without a glance and headed over to Antonio and Gilbert. If anyone noticed they didn't comment. It was known that the relationship between the two was volatile at best. America and Canada arrived together though to most it seemed like the superpower walked in on his own. They were the last people to arrive.
"Hello America," Arthur looked at the other man and had to think for a moment on who he was,"…and Canada. It is good to see you both well. Come in and enjoy the party. Dinner will be served at seven." Canada nodded to him and walked into the room but America stayed behind and looked at Britain with a scrutinizing eye. Arthur had to refrain from squirming under the other's gaze. He hadn't seen America's eyes look like that for a long time. Normally the other man's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm and youthful naivety. Being on the receiving end of such a serious look chilled the Brit "Yes? Is there something wrong?" the Brit asked a little irritably
"You seem troubled. I noticed it at the meeting the other day as well. What's wrong?" Alfred spoke calmly staring into the other man's eyes. Arthur was taken aback. His face flushed and he sputtered.
"What do you mean what's wrong? Nothing is wrong," Arthur hissed. Alfred raised one golden eyebrow and shook his head. He leaned in close to the other man.
"You forget Arthur, that I know you too well to believe that," Alfred whispered into Arthur's ear. A shiver raced down Arthur's spine and it took all his willpower not to close his eyes. Arthur reached up and pushed Alfred away.
"You don't know me at all America," Arthur said angrily. He noticed what he thought to be a flicker of pain flash through cornflower blue eyes but it was gone so quickly that he must have imagined it. Alfred's eyes went back to the cool blue that sent shivers running through Arthur. When Arthur went to pull his hands away from the American he was stopped quickly. Alfred latched onto one of Arthurs hands.
"Perhaps," Alfred said mildly. He raised the captured had to his lips and placed a kiss on the inside of Arthur's wrist. Arthur was dumbstruck as Alfred released his hand and calmly strode into the ballroom. The Englishman knew that it was his duty to follow the American into the room and behave like a proper host but more than anything he needed to go and collect himself before anyone saw him.
Well that's all in this chapter, next chapter will be the diner party with Canada, France, America, and England at the same table. *Gasp* Also Alfred's thoughts on his encounter with Arthur. Hope you enjoyed. Read and Review