Hetalia Drabbles

Behind the mask(FrUk)

Disclaimer:I do not own the following work of fiction(personal revisions made).

France's POV

~~~~~~~~

I never knew how sad Arthur was.

Well maybe I should have known. I'm mostly the reason.

I know that we fight all the time during the meetings but, I didn't know my words cut him so deeply.

Then again, I know Arthur is sensitive, he just hides it behind that mask of his. I already knew that, on the inside, he is broken. Broken beyond repair.

He broke when he was a child. That emotional barrier is up to hide the fact that he simply can't handle it anymore.

Though I got a look behind that mask. It wasn't very pretty.....

~~~~~~~~

Another meeting was in session. Another argument broke out between me and Arthur for some reason. I am getting tired of them real fast.

I said something, something I probably shouldn't have. The look on his face when I said it was heart-breaking. He didn't burst into tears, he didn't run out the room and never come back, he just took a deep breath and sat back down.

Even I was taken aback by it. Surely those words hurt him beyond measure. I sat down too and I couldn't help but stare at him to see if he would let one tear slide. Non, he was holding it in quite well. I could see clearly in his eyes that it bothered him to some level but he just wouldn't let it escape.

Pretty soon the meeting was over. As we were packing our stuff, I watched how Arthur put his things away. Nice and calmly. Too calmly.

He gave his quick wave to everyone and walked out of the building. I had to follow him. I had to see just what I did to him.

He was fine on the ride home, minus all the little road rage episodes he had. It was when he was home that he took off the mask he wore all day for centuries. I watched as he took his coat and tie off and threw it to the side. He then put a tea kettle on the stove and some scones in the oven.

I must say, the scones actually looked edible.

Then he sunk in the kitchen chair and looked around to see if anyone was in the house. Or around. Thank goodness he didn't see me!

Then he just broke down....

I felt so bad for him. I didn't know this is what he did every time we had an argument. I watched as he sobbed to himself. He was also saying something. I could only make out a few of the sentences.

"You know better Arthur! You know he's always going to win no matter what! Why do I even try? I know he's better than me....."

Then the phone started to ring. Arthur looked up wiped some of the tears away and walked over to it. He cleared his voice and picked up the phone.

After a heated argument with the unknown person

Arthur hung up the phone rather harshly and then walked back into the kitchen. The tea kettle was overflowing and the scones were burning. Arthur immediately turned off the burner and the oven. He opened the oven and grabbed the pan of scones without a glove. He shouted and dropped the little charcoal pieces of what was scones on the floor, making his perfectly white floor get smudged with ash.

"Shit!!! Shit!! Shit!!! Shit!!!"

He started to kick the oven door angrily, repeating the chant.

"Stupid git,stupid bloody frog,stupid Francis!---"

He gave it one last kick before hitting the floor. He pulled his knees to his chest and said.

"Stupid me...."

With that he buried his face into his knees. It was obvious he was crying. I couldn't watch anymore. I had to leave, I felt so bad for him. It was very apparent that Arthur had emotional issues. The walk home I was thinking up a way to make Arthur know that he wasn't so alone. That people love him. People meaning me.

~~~~~~~~

After the meeting the next day, I approached Arthur who looked horrible. His eyes were red and swollen, his hair wasn't done, he was wearing the same outfit from yesterday because I see ash marks on it. His hand had a burn on it. He didn't treat it?

He looked up aknowledging me.

"Go away Francis....just....please....go away..."

He sounded so tired and fed up with everything. I smiled.

"Angleterre....I'm not here to fight...."

I took his burnt hand and kissed it. He blushed and pulled it away. He covered up the burnt part like I didn't already see it.

"What are you here for?"

I pulled him out of his seat ever so gently and whispered, "Dinner at my place, how does that sound?"

He looked at me, emerald eyes wide.

"F-Francis...."

"Oh, so you would prefer at your house then?"

"No! I'd rather yours...." He sighed in defeat. I grabbed the non burnt hand and took him to my car, and drove to my house.

-----Timeskip----

I had the food already prepared. I was just treating his wound.

"Oh Angleterre....you got burned..."

He looked awfully sad and nodded. I smiled and brought the red mark to my mouth and kissed it. Automatically, his cheeks flammed and a small smile graced his features.

I grinned. I wrapped his hand up and then brought his face closer to mine.

"Please mon amour, do try not to hurt yourself..."

His eyes widened.

"Mon amour?"

"Oui, that's what I said right?"

His response was a big ole' kiss on my lips. When we pulled away, he hugged me.

"Thank you Francis..."

I melted into the hug.

"Anything for you, Arthur..."