Blood Red Roses [Hetalia FrUk]

Day Three-That Night

Arthur sighed. It had been different without France's representative, Francis. Arthur kicked his shoes off and shut his hotel door. He was in the same building as all the other countries, the entire hotel had been reserved for everyone. The meeting was in France this month. It was a French hotel, and the accents were getting on Arthur's nerves yet he had to hear more. He love-hated the language.

He changed into his pajamas, and felt a sudden prick in his thumb. He looked at his swollen thumb, and the memory flooded back to him. The rose. The anger. The hate. The thorn. The blood. The love.

Arthur shook the memory from his head, sat on the edge of his bed and stared at the perfect rose, still sitting in the crystal glass vase. It was the perfect height, with each thorn in it's perfect place. Arthur hadn't realized up until now that a wide grin was stretched across his face. His brow furrowed, his mouth tightened into a straight line, and his eyes went back to being narrowed impatiently. Back to his usual scowling expression. He lay down in his bed, and just as his eyes slipped shut, there was a knock on his door. The brit stood, shoulders squared, then walked to his door and opened it.

"Bonjour, Arthur." Francis stood in his doorway, smiling and wearing nothing but his underwear. Arthur shrieked, and slammed the door. He ran to his bed, buried his face in his pillow and groaned. Francis was NAKED! Stock naked! The nerve of the pervert! But....... his body did look awful good. Arthur couldn't help but stare quickly at Francis before shutting the door. The brit lay back down on his bed, still slightly shaken from what had just taken place.

His eyes slipped shut once again.
Maybe Francis wasn't as bad as he seemed.

His body relaxed.
Maybe Francis was in true love, and Arthur was just being a douche.

His mind wandered.
Maybe Francis just wanted to find love. Loneliness hurt.

His inhales and exhales became deeper and slower.
Maybe all Francis was was a man that hated being alone, and Arthur gave him the feeling of friendship.

Arthur let himself fall into his dreams.
Maybe he should give Francis a chance.

Arthur drifted off.
So many maybes.