Thinking too much

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Hola, it's me again. By the way, this fic is not smutty at all. Sorry if you like that kinda stuff, but it's not in this story. There are a couple kisses, but no more than that. Enjoy this non-smutty fluff though!

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I am suddenly startled awake by a loud clatter in the kitchen. I snap awake, eyes wide and mind racing. "WHAT THE BLOODY HELL WAS THAT?!" I yell, completely forgetting that I have a guest in my house. I swing my legs around the side of the couch and start sprinting towards the kitchen. I then stop running abruptly, realising the fact that it could well be a burglar. I quietly move over to the coffee table and pick up one of the remotes sitting there. I raise it above my shoulder, in a striking position, and warily make my way over to where the sound came from.

I round the corner and what I see sends a rush of memories through my head, and I drop the remote on the floor with a clatter. I suddenly remember him coming to my house drunk last night, and him throwing up last night, and- and... Bloody hell! The kiss! "What the hell Francis! I mean- Francis?! What, what are you doing?" I manage to stammer out. Is he wearing my clothes?

He groans and rubs his head gingerly. "Ohhh mon ami, do not make such a loud noise..." All I do, is stare at him for a while before putting it together in my head. Ahh, he has a hangover... I wonder if he remembers last night at all. Only one way to find out. "Francis? Do you remember last night at all?" I ask, anxious for the answer. "Non mon ami, all I remember is going to the club, dancing with some pretty girls, maybe having a few drinks. Then the next thing I know, I wake up in someone else's bed. I was really worried I might've done something stupid you know? Tell me, did I bring someone back here?" France asks with a worried, confused expression on his face.

I feel my cheeks heating up against my own will, bloody git, why'd he have to ask me that! "Oh-um, no you didn't.... I ahhh let you sleep in my bed..." I say, swallowing hard. Urghh, damn Francis! His expression fades into something more along the lines of guilt, thankfulness perhaps. "Oh merci, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have invaded your personal space last night." He says and my mind can't help wonder if he did remember kissing me last night. My thoughts are interrupted by Francis waving his hand in front of my face.

I snap back to reality and look back at him. "Ahh yes?" I say. "I said I'm going to go back home now alright?" he replies. "Oh-oh of course." I stutter as I step aside for him to get past me. He opens the front door and walks out, me trailing behind him. I unlock the car for both of us and we climb in. I start the car and drive off down the road, all sorts of things running through my mind.

He gives me directions, and I miss more than a couple turnoffs. Since I have all these things I'm thinking about, I'm not really focussing on what Francis is telling me. We finally get there, after many trials and tribulations. He opens the door and is about to get out when he looks back at me and says, "Angleterre, you seem a bit out of sorts this morning, is there anything troubling you?"

I freeze when he says the word 'Angleterre'. That's what he said to me last night, I remember it clearly. The memory of what he did last night sparks back to me, all I can do is stare at a random spot on the dash board, not daring to look into his eyes. His ocean blue eyes, like the seas themselves. Those eyes envelop anything that looks into them, much like the ocean's tides, and waves pulling a seashell into the sea bed, resting there for eternity before becoming part of it, part of the big blue ocean.

No, stop it Arthur, stop thinking about his eyes, and sandy blonde hair, like the beaches shores- No! Stop! Don't think about that, you don't think his eyes are a beautiful blue like the ocean, or his hair is as bright and blonde as the sand on the beach. Answer him before he gets suspicious! "Oh, oh, no, nothing is bothering me at all!" I finally reply not so convincingly, much to my dismay. He just looks at me unsure, "If you say so mon ami." He replies with a shrug before closing the door and walking up to his front door and disappearing into the large house.

What the hell Arthur! Why the bloody hell are you still parked outside his house, and why the bloody hell are you stressing over this so much?! I run my fingers through my hair, and sigh before resting my hands on the steering wheel for a while. I eventually drive off back home, even more thoughts running through my head as there were driving here.

I pull up outside my house and drift lethargically inside, feeling extremely sluggish and just wanting to sleep the rest of the day off. So that's what I do. As soon as I reach my room, I collapse on the unmade bed. I easily drift off into a sleep full of dreams, mainly about Francis, god damnit! Why does he have to be so perfect! Although, I would never admit this to myself when I was awake.

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