Well damn it. I'm just really sorry I haven't updated guys.
The rain. It was raining again. No more than half way through the tedious journey through the streets of London, it started to pelt down like there was no tomorrow.
Admittedly, Arthur thought it felt nice to have the grime and soot on his face washed away in the downpour, he still felt dirty from being stared at by his French companion.
"Do you ever stop staring? I know you may not be accustomed to English manners, but it's considered rude."
"Oh no mon ami, I'm fully aware of all the strange British manners there are. I have lived here for more than ten years."
Arthur laughed "You sure don't sound like it! Your accent is ridiculous!"
Francis smirked "But the ladies find it so alluring! I'm not alone with my 'stupid' accent find your accent ridiculous, too."
"At least mine is native, frog."
So, they got on pretty well, all things considered.
The pair began reminiscing when they arrived at the train station. Usually Arthur would avoid it, but it was the quickest way home. The quicker he got home the more he could chat with Francis. The more he chatted with Francis, the higher the chances were of him getting the stolen money back.
Arthur's face saddened a little "That's where I waited with Ralph, back in the war." He pointed to a little wooden bench. Honestly, he was surprised it was still there. Upon closer inspection, he noticed a small carving of a crocodile ingrained in the wood with the initials 'R.K' under it. They were there all night, Arthur recalled. He must've done it sometime while Arthur's back was turned, talking to policemen, asking if they'd seen his family...
The train arrived, the noise snapping Arthur out of his memories.
"This is our train, come on, Frog" Arthur could see that Francis had been digging just as deep if not deeper into his memories than Arthur had. It took a moment for Francis to actually get on the train.
"You know…" said Francis "my father went to join the army when I was eleven. A few months later, just before Christmas we got a letter informing us that he had died after receiving a bullet to the head" Francis paused "My mother just kept reading it over and over, trying to make herself believe she's just read wrong, she just… stopped. On Christmas day, after getting back home from my job I found her asleep. She never woke up."
Arthur and Francis were silent in the empty train carriage.
"I'm sorry Arthur, that was gloomy and uncalled for"
"It's quite alright. Everyone needs to talk sometime"
There was silence once more
"So… uh… Do you know how anyone from the orphanage is going nowadays?" asked Arthur
Francis smiled "I do! In fact they're my co-workers! Antonio and Gilbert are in London with me right now! And there was one more who you knew I think…"
"So they're thieves."
Before he'd registered what Arthur had said, he'd remembered the fourth parties name "Alistair! That's it! He's very handsome now…"
Francis stared at Arthur. Arthur stared at Francis.
Francis stared because he'd just given away all his accomplices names. Arthur stared because he couldn't quite believe that his childhood almost-friend had become a thief.
"…hm…" Francis decided if Arthur was really going to give him and the others to the police he would've done it by now. He'd just have to be extra careful to not let him out of his sight. Actually, no, new plan. His French locomotive* must be set in motion.
"You said Alistair?" inquired Arthur
"Yeah, the handsome read head. I'd love to get my hands on his-"
"Enough!" and just like that, Arthur went from being almost sympathetic to burning hatred. Not so much at Francis, just in his general direction. Why did Scott have to be a thief of all things!? That fucker…
Arthur realised they were arriving at his station soon. He should pay more attention.
"Get up Francis, this is our stop"
"Okay mon ami"
"Don't call me that" It seemed like Arthur's energy from before had entirely left him. They had left the train station and were making their way down Arthur's street.
"Cheer up, mon ami" said Francis mockingly they were at the door now.
"Just shut the fuck u-" when Arthur turned around to give Francis a piece of his mind he found himself in yet another off guard kiss. Tedious. Wait, no, this was bad, Frenchman and kissing surely it wouldn't be too long until… OH GOD THE TOUNGE. IT WAS IN HIS MOUTH. IT WAS SO STRANGE.
"Hey there Arthur, what's that you're doing-" Vlad started, as he glared from the door of the flat.
Now, this might be the part where you'd think Vlad would break up the kiss and take Arthur away for himself and you'd be half right as he did indeed whisk Arthur away with the intention of leaving the Frenchman behind, but somehow he managed to pick the both of them up, one under each arm.
Arthur was dazed and sort of panting, and no matter how he may deny it he couldn't help but admire Francis' uh… skills, while Francis, being the smug bastard he is was smirking, though he did wonder for a few moments why he was being hoisted up two flights of stairs at about 100KM/h.
"WHY ARTHUR!? WHY WOULD YOU LEAVE ME FOR SOMEONE WHO SMELLS OF ROSEWATER AND BAGUETTES!? WHY WON'T YOU LOVE MEEE!?" At this point all three of them were seated in the living room where Vlad promptly started rolling around on the floor, chucking a hissy fit.
Arthur facepalmed. This was too much.
I'm actually kind of okay with this chappie. Please review *Puppy dog eyes* I might make it worth your while?
*French locomotive, like a rape train only fancier, more consentual and is French