The Song of the Nightingale

Chapter Fourteen:

I entered the dark and dusty room, unaware of what I would come across. Outside a bloody battle raged on.

I felt about for a light switch, and eventually found one. With a flick of my wrist, a crackling fluorescent light came to life, bathing the room in a eerie orange glow.

I inspected my surroundings.

The walls were rusted, and a thick coating of dust layered the ground. In the centre of the room, a limp figure lay chained to a wall.

No. No. No. No. No. No.

I thought frantically.

I broke my promise...I left...They hurt him!

It can't be him...There has to be a mistake... Please God...not this...

I ran over to him, quickly lifting up his chin so that he looked at me.

"Francis?" I whispered.

I received no response, only the blinking of his clouded blue eyes.

I didn't bother to realize that I was crying.

"Francis...Please answer me..." I sobbed.

He blinked.

I wrapped my arms around his frail frame, and held him close to me. I buried my face into his neck, and wept.

I clutched onto him as though he were the last lifeboat on a sinking ship.

"Please..." I yelled desperately. "Talk to me...Insult me...Kiss me...Dammit! Do something!"

We must have sat there in silence for an eternity.

I froze when a pair of hands encircled me.

"Francis?" I asked again softly, gently brushing my hand across his gaunt face.

He closed his arms around me, and started crying with me.

"Angleterre...Is it really you?" He whispered, voice strained.

"Yes..." I responded weakly.

I was, at first, confused as to why he wasn't yelling at me... I had left him on his own...I had left an opening for Ludwig to hurt him....And that thought broke me.

If I were in Francis' position, I would be screaming at him...Words of hate, and despair, and pain... But he wasn't.

I looked down at the man clinging to me, and slowly began running my fingers through his matted hair.

No. He wasn't like me at all...For Francis Bonnefoy was a creature that depended on kindness, and warmth, and love.

I felt him move closer as he tightened his grasp on me. I did the same, brining my lips up to rest on his forehead.

I don't know why he didn't hate me...But I did know that I could fix him.

I would stay by him and give him kindness, and warmth, and all of the love I could muster...

"I was so lonely..." He choked back tears.

I softly caressed his face.

"It's alright now, Francis." I cooed. "I'm here, and I won't ever leave you again."

"You did last time." He corrected, his voice nearly a whisper.

I was initially taken aback, but soon found my voice.

"I swear I won't leave you..."

I announced softly.

"For all I know, I could just be imagining you." His voice was worn as he locked eyes with me. "Prove that you won't leave...Prove to me that you're really here."

I dared not breathe.

"Fine." I muttered under my breath,
far too quietly for him to hear. I leaned over and snaked my arm around his fragile neck.

I softly pressed my lips to his, cradling his back as though he would break at the slightest mishandling.

I felt him pull me closer.

We soon broke away for much needed air.

Several seconds of silence hung over the atmosphere.

"Now I know I must be dreaming..." He joked slightly, a sliver of his normally playful demeanor once again dancing in his eyes.

I smiled warmly at him, grasping him in a gentle hug.

"I missed you so much." I whispered.

A comfortable quiet followed before I pulled away.

"Francis...Do you think you can walk?"

He shook his head.

I stood up, and turned around.

"Angleterre! Where are you going?" His eyes widened, and he reached out for me in a panic.

I leaned down so that our noses and foreheads were touching.

"I'm going to be right back."

I paused briefly.

"I have some...business...to attend to before we can go home."

I growled as I said the last part.

"I'll be back before the blink of an eye." I softly stroked his tangled hair.

"Oui..." He nodded. "Please hurry, Arthur. The sooner I leave this hellish place, the better." He weakly smiled at me.

I spun on my heels and made my way to the exit. Striding into the heart of the bloody war that was raging on the coastline.