Bunny Boy

Reunion

"Do you think he found somewhere to hide?" Alfred murmured.

Francis sighed. The storm was beginning to die down. It had been about two days since Arthur's disappearance. Alfred thought it best to hunker down at Francis' apartment until the storm passed, his room being closer to the ground and generally safer to take shelter in.

A pat on Alfred's back. "I'm not going to lie to you, mon cher, that storm....it was intense. I cannot imagine he would have found a hiding spot to ride it out."

Alfred sighed, running a hand over his face. He glanced outside the window, brows furrowed in worry. He shook his head. "He's smart enough, I can't imagine that he'd..." A gulp. "He would find a way. Somehow."

Silence fell over the two for a minute before Alfred stood. He paced over to the window, staring into the steadily calming rain. Now and again a flash of lightning would strike, and it was then Alfred remembered Arthurs fear of storms. He sighed in a sad chuckle, staring into nothing. He hoped. He borderline prayed. Arthur knew how to survive; after all, he lived long enough with a broken leg. He survived the tenants attempting to take him. He could survive a storm as well, right?

A clearing of the throat brought Alfred's attention to Francis. The Frenchman was holding up a bottle of wine. "Relax, friend. Have a drink."

Alfred cocked a brow, before scoffing and shaking his head. He went to the kitchen and grabbed two wine glasses, pacing back and letting Francis pour their drinks. The two settled on the couch as the American solemnly sipped his wine. Francis leaned back and swished his glass.

"Do you need anything else before you go?" The Frenchman said after a beat of silence. Alfred shook his head.

"Nah," He sighed, "But I appreciate the concern. You sheltering me for a bit was enough. Thanks man."

Francis just raised his glass and nodded in reply.

The two finished their wine before they knew it, and at that point, the storm was calm enough to traverse. Alfred stood, moving to the coatrack and sliding his jacket on. Francis cocked a brow. "You're not going to stay for more?"

"No," Alfred hummed, "I should be going home. For all I know, I could have bills to pay back home. Or something. Regardless my house needs an occupant," He smiled slightly at Francis, "Again, thanks man."

Before the Frenchman could say another word, he left, shutting the door quietly behind him.

The rain pattered against Alfred's jacket, leaking down from his hoodie and at his feet as he walked. It was cold, but not unbearably so, allowing Alfred to think of other things on his way back other than the storm.

Like of Arthur, for example.

A groan and a head shake. No, there's no need to think of that, not right now, anyway. He looked to the street, full of life once more as he walked. He was starting to get soaked from the rain, but he didn't care, hugging his jacket closer to himself. And before he knew it he approached his apartment, entering and peeling his wet jacket off before taking the elevator to his room. Usually he would take the stairs, but he didn't feel like exerting himself all too much at the moment.

He reached his door, sighing and unlocking, then entering. He closed the door behind him and locked it. An eerie sense of loneliness creeped into him when he fully realized that he was once again alone, and while he wasn't too uncomfortable with it, he was just uncomfortable enough to sigh and sulk to his couch, plopping himself down and leaning back.