Be Well, My Darling (Fruk)

Part 2: chapter 1: Nuremberg Laws

1935

"For god's sake, you'd think he'd learn from the past from what happens when you create policies like this!"

"Arthur! It's okay! Just ignore it, I doubt any of them will stick."

"Seriously? You don't seem to care? I mean, I remember what it was like for people to hurt me because of being Protestant; what is the difference? You, of all people, should know how harmful these laws could be. I mean, even your people had Protestants identify themselves."

"Yeah, but that was in the seventeen hundreds, and it wasn't my decision. Germany is only doing what his leader tells him, don't blame him."

Pfft, but that does not make any of it any better. None of what's happening over there is good. It makes me feel sick to my stomach. I have personally atoned for the atrocities I've set on this earth. I've accepted all the terrible things I've done and still deal with many of the bad things. However, seeing these laws put in place, with people like Germany enforcing them, felt evil.

Francis looked at me sadly and came closer. "Hey, I'm sorry...but you and I know better than anyone how these things go; I'm sure he doesn't want to do it any more than he has to. Mr. Germany is still young...and even now, at our age, we still don't speak up."

"Yeah...I know..."

Francis came even more, closer to me, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Don't worry, please...you will stress me out," he spoke. There were more concerning things in the world, but this seemed odd. I began to feel physically ill, feeling my stomach and throat nearly get inflamed.

"What is it?" Francis asked. I had begun taking out a handkerchief and covered my mouth. My lungs and throat felt scratchy as I began to cough into it. "Hey! It's okay! Let it all out!" Francis giggled. He began patting my back, and I coughed more. I started to move away from him, taking a look at the handkerchief.

And...

All I saw was—red.

This is not good. I can't get sick again. This is the third time this month. "I must go," I spoke. I shoved the handkerchief into my pocket and rushed to his door. I have been getting sick quite often and have managed to hide it from him constantly. "Leaving already? But you just got here!" He spoke.

"Yes...I know..." I spoke. I faced the door and closed my eyes, feeling bad. It had been a while since I saw him because I, once again, was sick. Now, within an hour, I was leaving. "Are you sure?...was it something I said? I don't mean to have said anything offensive. Please, stay? I have missed you terribly..."

My heart was aching as he said that to me. His voice sounded sad, and I could tell he wasn't lying or trying to mess with me. "I promise...I will see you soon. I must leave..." I spoke. I breathed out and could hear him shuffling around. "Wait, before you go," he started. I still had my back facing him, so I waited till I could feel his presence come closer. "Yes?"

His hand touched my shoulder and gently pulled me to turn around. "We have gotten close the past decade...wouldn't you say?"

"Ah...I suppose so..."

"I agree...in response, please do me the honor of telling me anything that might be giving you a hard time. I want to ensure you are cared for in any way possible."

I smiled at his words, feeling him rub circles on my arms. His touch was gentle as if he could do no wrong. My throat still burned, and I did my best not to cough in his face. "I know," I laughed. Francis grabbed my hand, pulling it to his face. "That is all I ask for. Then, of course, to be well. We are dear friends now, so don't ruin it," he laughed.

"I would not dream of it, Francis."

"Good..."

Francis kissed the back of my hand, squeezing it gently. "Please...keep in touch with me if you need anything," he spoke. I laughed in response, pulling my hand away. Again, no matter how many decades passed, he still was so emotional. I will never fully understand whether it was good or bad.

We both stood still, staring at each other. "I really must go; I should not be here," I spoke. I was hesitant to leave because I was scared. I was unsure when I would see him again. However, I did not want him to see me sick. He does not know how often I have been getting sick. I am sure that if he knew, he would stop everything from trying and taking "care" of me. Who knows how that would be?

"Do you have to? I think you should stay," he whispered. Francis looked at me hopelessly, making me laugh. I tilted my head, looking at him, and shook my head. "I promise we will see each other again!" I spoke. He rolled his eyes at me playfully and shrugged. "Well, when you say it, I know I can expect to see you within a week. As much as I don't like that, I am willing to work with it," he laughed.

So dramatic.

"Goodbye..." I spoke. I nodded at him, finally turning away. This goodbye felt so...weird? However, I did not want him to see me coughing up more blood, so I had no other choice but to leave. I quickly opened the doors, rushing out.

"GOODBYE, ARTHUR! I WILL AWAIT YOUR NEXT ARRIVAL!" he called. I felt my face getting a little hot, but I ignored his call by continuing to walk. I needed to keep my head focused!

I suddenly felt a stone sticking out, causing me to trip. I caught myself quickly, turning to see if Francis had seen. Sadly, he did, and he had a smirk across his face. "Hmmph!" I groaned. I quickly fixed myself and continued to walk away. Honestly, why was he still watching me in the first place?