A day in the life (fruk)

6

When we arrived at our hotel room, I threw myself on my bed. Thank you, Alfred, for getting us something nice. "What's wrong? Why are you feeling ill?" Francis asked. I had laid on my back, using my arms as a pillow by placing them behind my head. Francis looked at me a bit worried, leaning against the bed with his knees. "Why do you suddenly care so much?" I asked. I really wanted to go home to London.

He breathed out annoyed and leaned in closer. He placed his hands against the bed, looking at me from above. He hovered a few centimetres above me, but it didn't bother me much.

His hair fell over his shoulders, hugging the sides of his face. Francis had these big blue eyes that I could never forget. They always stared into my soul as he stared at me. His eyes were different because his eyelashes were dark, not blonde like his hair. It was different in the greatest way you could imagine. Francis had a wide shoulder frame but was delicate. He grew out some of his stubble, and it made him look more modern. I could remember him through the years. He had always carried himself in such a lovely way.

"Don't be like that, you know I care...even if I have a funny way of showing it," he spoke. I looked at him seriously and began to move my arms toward my side to push my body up. "Can I ask you something?" I asked. He looked at me concerned as I moved closer, but he didn't seem bothered. I wish I could understand what he was thinking; that way all of this could be easier. However, I knew...

I needed him.

Maybe temporarily, but I needed him.

Like a flower needs rain to live.

I can live my entire life never telling him how I felt, but I needed him. He made me feel something in my pathetic life. Good or bad, it was something. "Yes, of course," he whispered. I nodded at him, reaching my right hand toward his shoulder. Francis flinched a bit but didn't try and run away from me.

Maybe, just for a moment.

"We are friends, right?" I asked. I touched some of his hair, sitting up straighter. He had moved back a bit to sit, but I tried to be at his level. He tilted his head, nodding. "That's good to know now...but for tonight, can we not be friends?" I asked. He looked at me confused, and I grew nervous.

I knew what I wanted, even if I didn't say it.

"What else is there to be?"

"Nothing...let's be nothing to each other..."

"Nothing? And you call me dramatic..."

"Well, there is room for change."

He looked at where my hand was and started to laugh a bit. "Fine...nothing...what do people with a relationship of nothing do? Nothing?" He asked, laughing. I smiled at him, moving my other hand toward him. I cupped his cheeks, smiling. "No...they can do anything," I spoke.

I felt myself coming closer to him, and he didn't bother moving away from me. I wanted to kiss him but wondered if he would let me. I felt him place a hand on my thigh, and I felt more anxious. We hadn't kissed in a long time. We hadn't kissed in so long, and it was starting to feel as if I would die if I didn't feel that sensation once more.

"Arthur...I regret to say that I will still torment you in front of everyone...but adore you secretly," he whispered. I was about to lay one on him but stopped. "I hate you so much," I laughed. Francis came closer, and I began to pull away from him. "What?" He asked, shocked.

I couldn't do it.

I can't.

"What?" I asked. We were still close, but that would soon end. I wasn't going to do it. Deep down, I knew that wasn't the right thing to do.

"Well, I'm surprised that you had the audacity."

"Huh? What are you talking about?"

I tried to move away, but he pulled me back. "I'm surprised you dared to think you could go somewhere else," he spoke. Francis touched my cheeks, forcibly pulling me back toward him. He placed his hand on my nape, bringing me back closer than ever.

"Mr. France! What would people think?"

"They would think nothing of two people who have nothing to do with each other."

He looked at me desperately, planting a soft kiss on my cheek. He kissed my cheek so gently and lovingly as if he were truly fighting against himself. He continued to hold onto me as he placed his forehead against my chest. "I'm sorry..." I whispered.

I had no particular reason to be sorry, but it came out like something that needed to be said. "For what?" He asked. We may as well go home...just as I had done alone. This was too much for me to feel. I wish I didn't have feelings. "Everything...I'm sorry for everything...I'm sorry for not being nicer to you, for trying to get revenge, for starting countless wars, for taking Matthew, for not being there for you during the world wars, and I'm sorry for shutting you out in the sixties and seventies. I'm sorry...I don't deserve anything you may think you want to give me...do you understand? I'm not worthy of any of it," I spoke.

Francis stayed silent as I spoke, but slowly lifted his head, still holding my nape. "Arthur, I appreciate the apology, but you have no say in what I decide to give you. You never have...I've only been dealing with it in my own way, and I still do...even now..." he spoke.

I lifted my hand to his chest to push him away, but he held my hand. "It's too late now; you've overwhelmed me," he spoke. I felt a bit taken aback but stayed silent. "What are you—"

I had tried to respond, but all efforts were shattered as he kissed me on the lips. It was quick, and he separated fast as I looked at him, shocked. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to...I just..." he spoke. I wasn't angry. He tried to move away, but I stopped him. "No! Don't...just...it's fine...I'm not mad...how about we lay down?" I suggested. I kicked off my shoes to get started, and he nodded nervously. "Together?"

"Yes...how else will I stay warm?" I laughed. I smiled at him a bit, and he rushed to take off his shoes and trousers. I swear, he couldn't be more obvious. I quickly went under the covers, and Francis rushed to bed with me before I could change my mind. "Are you sure?"

"YES!"

"Okay, Okay!"

He quickly lay beside me, and I came closer to his chest. "Don't say anything or do anything. I will fight you in a heartbeat," I threatened. Despite my threat and effort to scare him, I could hear his heart beating out of control as I stayed close. He was such a loser.