Too Little Too Late {UKFr Angst/Fluff} COMPLETED

Hitting Hard

The following months were the worst Arthur had ever experienced.
Francis' boss was promptly fired, although the Englishman would have much preferred him to be horrifically executed. The Englishman thought Brazen Bull would have been perfect for that 'son of a bitch'.
He'd grown extremely quiet and near ghost-like after the Frenchman's passing. He barely talked much anymore and God forbid anyone mention Francis' name. He would immediately start crying and have to leave the room.

They had Francis' body laid in a coffin with red velvet cushions, and placed it in a tomb in the cemetery. Arthur spent a lot of time there, kneeling in front of the tomb door, crying and talking to the stone building as if it was Francis. This was one of those times.

"Hey Francis. How're you doing?" The was silence except for the crunching leaves under Arthur's foot and the cawing of crows overhead. The Englishman chuckled sadly and kneeled in front of the tomb like he had so many times before. He pulled a small bouquet of roses out and placed them before the tombs door.

"I...I got you these...I know you like Irises more but I know you like these too...D-Did you know that roses are my national flower?" He smiled softly and stared up at the stone building.

"Is that why you liked them so much? If not, that's quite alright chap...Roses are beautiful nonetheless...Like you..." Arthur's voice cracked at the end as tears began filling his eyes again. He attempted to blink them back but that resulted in the gushing out of his mossy eyes again.

"Oh god...I'm so sorry...I promised myself I wouldn't cry but...Ah Francis I love you too much..."
He wiped his eyes and trembled softly, stroking the Frenchman's name that was engraved on the tomb. Arthur couldn't hold it back anymore and began to cry once again, the wind being the only other sound.

The Brit heard approaching footsteps and quickly wiped his eyes, attempting to calm himself down. He turned around to find Alfred standing there, looking worried.

"W-What are you doing here?" Arthur stuttered, getting to his feet and brushing out his suit.

"Arthur, there's no need to cover it up." The young American sighed and stood next to him. "I already know you loved Francis and that this is hitting you hard..." Alfred sighed and stared and the ground, gripping his shoulder.

"It's hitting me hard too."

There was a long period of silence before the Englishman spoke up.

"Is it really?" Anger boiled in Arthur's heart, and he raised his voice a bit. "I loved Francis with all my heart and you say it's hitting you ha-" The young American spun him around to face the Brit and pushed him back a bit, surprising Arthur.

"ARTHUR!" Alfred shouted at him, silencing the Brit. They stood like that for a long while, sky blue eyes boring into clover green.

"Francis was like a father to me during the Revolutionary War and before that as well! Of course I'm crushed by his death!" Alfred yelled, getting into a defensive stance.

"Matthew is almost always in tears now that his father is dead! Feliciano hasn't smiled since his big brother passed away! Antonio and Gilbert are distraught! Even fucking Ivan is upset! Francis was a huge part of everyone's lives and we all took him for granted until it was too late!" Alfred was sobbing at this point, tears splashing against his glasses as Arthur stood in complete shock at what he was hearing.

"We all loved Francis, Arthur! We all cared about him and needed him and we all didn't realize it!" The young American collapsed onto the ground and pounded at it until his knuckles were raw.

"We might not have loved him the way you did but we all loved him, goddamnit!"

He stopped and quietly cried, head down towards the ground. The Englishman finally snapped out of it and knelt down next to the teen, placing a hand on his shoulder. Alfred looked up at him with sore red eyes.

"I miss him so much Arthur..."

"I miss him too Alfred...I miss him too." The young blonde launched into the arms of Arthur and squeezed him hard, crying out loud now. Arthur held him back and cried alongside him, trembling violently.
The crows continued cawing, the wind continued blowing, and the Earth kept spinning as the two clutched at each other, morning the death of the Frenchman they loved so much.