Lost Letters (Hetalia: FrUk)

3. I've Been Well

**some mature-ish content ahead**

"So, any particular idea how we will, as you say, 'improve our relationship?'" Francis asked as he took a bite of his salad.

"Well, my boss says we should become more personal with each other," Arthur speared a piece of food, but didn't eat it. He was too busy watching the rain race down the window beside him.

"Oh, really?" Francis asked with a devious smirk.

"Shut up." He didn't have it in him to fight that day. Which did not go unnoticed.

"Is something the matter, Angleterre?" Arthur's head shot up as his cheeks flushed.

"Sh-shut up!" He scolded, "We're in public, someone could hear!"

"We are secluded enough, you made sure of that," Francis smirked, but then his expression turned thoughtful. "Is something wrong?" Arthur looked away and out the window once more. 

Nothing in particular was wrong, but he was still a bit bothered by that letter. He had always, always assumed that Francis had simply gotten rid of it, and didn't return the feelings. Now, the possibility was that maybe they were mutual, or once had been, and England had blown his chances. Either way, he ended up with the short end of the draw.

"Nothing in particular," He finally answered, lifting another bite to his lips. 

~

France's Pov

~

"Are you sure?" All he received was a glare for an answer. They fell into a silence that lasted until the end of their lunch. It was regrettable, and the Frenchman felt slightly guilty for the way things ended up, though he couldn't fathom why.

"Well, I suppose today wasn't very successful," Arthur sighed as he slipped his jacket back on.

"I guess that just means we'll see each other very soon," Francis smirked as he paid his half of the bill and stood. "And, maybe next time," He reached an arm around the inattentive Brit's waist and lowered his head so he was whispering, his lips faintly brushing the others ear, "we can become more personal at me house, hm?" The blond almost flinched, expecting an immediate response, but none came. "Eh... Arthur?"

He was shoved backwards, almost causing him to fall into the empty table behind him, and his acquaintance stormed away and out of the restaurant. Francis stared after for a moment before following after, uncharacteristically ignoring the waitress' last minute attempt to flirt with him. He ran outside, expecting the Brit to be haling a cab but, to his dismay, Arthur was gone.

~

England's Pov

~

"Stupid, ah, Frog," Arthur panted as he braced himself against the shower wall. "Saying that," He pumped himself, " grabbing my waist," The hot water didn't help against his flushed skin, "Bloody fucking-" his breath caught, "F-Fran-" A shudder rocked his body as his breath halted, pleasure flooding his senses.

He leaned against the wall, his breathing short and choppy, and his body shaking. He reached his hand under the stream of water to rinse it off. He watched as the water dripped down his body to fall in a rush down the drain and his tears soon followed. He cried silently for a long while, eventually curling into a sitting position under the steadily cooling stream of water.

"Stupid Frog," He rubbed his eyes, "stupid bloody, Francis."

~

"He's not going out?"

"He doesn't feel good."

"Is he sick?"

No, haven't you heard?" 

"Heard what?"

"I know, I know."

"What is it?"

"He's sad."

"But, doesn't he have work?"

"Hey! I said he's sad!"

"I know, but-"

"His boss will get mad if his work isn't finished."

The fairies continued to chat amongst each other, both worriedly and excitedly, as Arthur lay in bed. What they were saying was true, all of it. But, he didn't care what they said. He didn't care what anyone said really. None of their words mattered.

"Arthur? Cheer up, Arthur!" One of the Fairies sat beside his head on his pillow and pat his hair.

"I'm fine," He mumbled as he rolled to stare up at the ceiling She was jostled by the movement, fluttering up slightly above the pillow and hovering while he repositioned before sitting back down by his head. 

"No, you're not," She said as she leaned against him, "but it's okay. Love isn't always easy. Especially when you love your best friend."

"He's not my friend!"

"Well, no one can love an enemy," She pointed out.

"Yes you can," Another fairy argued.

"No," The one sitting by him corrected, "You can't. Because the moment you fall for them, they aren't really your enemy anymore, are they? Maybe they see you as their enemy, but to you,  they no longer are." All of the fairies fell silent. 

"So, you'll be okay, Arthur," She pet his eyebrow, "He's not your enemy, he likes you. He'll come around and realize his feelings for you." She placed a kiss on his forehead, like a doting parent, and fluttered up to be with the other fairies.

"Thanks," Arthur mumbled as he closed his eyes to sleep, "You always know what to say..." He fell asleep.

"Poor boy," A fairy whispered.

"I know."

"I wish things would just work out for him."

"Hasn't he always loved the blond idiot?"

"Yeah, but it's never been returned."

".... I know."

"What?"

"Why don't we help him!"

"How?"

"I have a plan!"

And what a plan it was.

~

France's Pov

~

Ding! Dong!

"Hm?" Francis placed down the paper as he stood from his seat. Who could possibly be visiting him? No one knew, aside from England, that he was in London, and the Brit wouldn't just stop by without calling first.

"Just one moment!" He called as he fixed his hair in a hall mirror, and brushed out the wrinkles in his shirt. 

"Hello?" He greeted as he opened his door. It was still pouring outside, but the awning left his door stoop dry. No one was outside. He sighed, "Children," He shook his head, but smirked slightly. He looked down as he was closing the door, and stopped with he saw dull yellow parchment and scarlet ribbon against the dark welcome mat on the cement.

He bent down to pick it up, and could have swore he heard laughter from somewhere, but the small yard of his rented house was empty. He picked up the ancient scroll and walked inside, closing the door on the stormy weather. He looked at what he was holding, and noticed the wax seal along the strings hanging from it.

"Angleterre?"