The Song of the Nightingale

Chapter Seven:

My eyes snapped open, as I shot straight up into a sitting position.

I gasped for breath, but none came.

Bullocks!

I felt a searing pain tear though my chest, and a high screaming noise filled my head.

I quickly covered my ears, and curled into a tight ball.

Not again...Not now!

I pressed harder into my temples, and hugged myself.

"Francis!"

I heard a voice shriek shrilly, causing me to press furthermore.

Who the hell is yelling at this hour?!

My breathing was staggered and shallow.

I gasped when a stabbing sensation pierced my chest.

"No....No...NO!" I hollered frantically.

I didn't even realize when Francis stumbled into my room, half awake.

"Angleterre!" He ran over to me.

"That....Bastard..." I stuttered though gritted teeth. "He's...Bombing London...."

At this point, sweat was heavily dripping from my brow, and I was shaking profusely.

I didn't even complain when the taller man enveloped me in a warm hug. In fact, I buried my face into his bare chest, and wept.

"Dammit!" I choked. "There are children where he's attacking..." I stated, acridly. "He's been doing this for nearly a year now...Why won't he stop? Hasn't he cause enough pain to me?" I cried.

Francis leaned foreword and started rubbing circles on my back, whispering something quietly in French into my ear.

He soon scooped me up, and laid my head on his shoulder.

I was in far too much pain to retaliate against him.

Carrying me effortlessly down the corridor was no large feat for Francis, and he completed it quickly.

"Where are we going?" I asked, hoarsely.

"You're coming to sleep with me tonight, mon cher." He replied smoothly.

My eyes widened, causing the Frenchman to look down at me.

"Non...Not in that way, lapin." He chuckled. "I just thought that being by each other's sides might prove beneficial to the both of us...Especially now that Ludwig is bombing London again."

I relaxed a bit, my jagged breaths slowing down a tick.

I watched groggily as Francis opened his bedroom door, and meandered inside, laying me gently onto his bed.

I immediately curled up, wrapping my arms around my stomach and squeezing my eyes shut.

I felt the bed dip, signaling the fact that a certain frog was sitting next to me.

He pulled me close to him, and for once I didn't complain.

I turned, and wrapped my legs around his waist, burying my nose into his neck as his lavender scented golden locks brushed against my cheeks.

Pulling the duvet over us, I clamped my eyes closed and tried to get some rest.

I was far too hurt...far too tired to think about where I was, or how uncharacteristically affectionate I was being.

All that registered, was that I was in a much more comfortable position than before.

And as I lay there with the light of the full moon casting ephemeral silver shadows over everything, it was if the world wasn't falling apart.

It was if, as long as I stayed with Francis, the war couldn't touch us. We were in our own pocket of reality...And I was perfectly content with that.