STORY!post
Title: To Berate Oneself
Author/Artist: nastybillabong
Character(s) or Pairing(s): France, England. FrUK.
Rating: K or T for Angst
Warnings: Perhaps OOC? Angst. Francis-centric maybe? Human names used. Drabble prompt thing.
Summary: Francis being emotionally needy, stressed and Arthur's blissful ignorance.
Arthur isn't a bad person. Arthur hasn't done anything wrong - or so to speak, really. He hasn't offended anyone without proper reason to, nor has he ever taken underhanded means to take revenge. Sure, he isn't a saint. Sure, he doesn't make the best food, but Arthur was Arthur. Everything he did defined him, including his independent attitude - not that Francis minded, he rather liked it and admired Arthur for it, - yet it came to a point where Francis decided that he did not like Arthur's independence. He wanted Arthur to depend on him too.
There was no going about that, though. It seems that Francis needed him more than he could bear.
Francis found himself in incredible amounts of loneliness that he wouldn't let himself sate with others while Arthur was gone - it worsened when Antonio invited him to go out with Gilbert like how they usually did, but ended up with Francis with a black eye, a sore stomach, and a bruised ego. Guilt nipped at him like a rat after Antonio told him off; think about Arturo - how would he feel if he saw you acting like that! Just thinking about it made Francis want to get a gun and be done with everything already.
Well, almost.
He knew that Arthur was finally going to visit, so he might as well make compensations while he was there. He'd try to sweep the stubborn Brit off of his feet with his l'amour and charme, and with fingers crossed, perhaps steal a kiss or two. Francis was a definite flirt, but he was never keen on polygamy, so he was going to present his best and play safe, for Arthur was a conservative man. A conservative man that he did not want to displease.
When the day of Arthur's visit came, Francis nearly loses his control - practically dragging Arthur straight into his apartment, not caring that Arthur would have been curious as to why Francis was living in an apartment and not the house he was so used to visiting, and clinging on to him as if it meant life and death - perhaps in that moment and in Francis' point of view, it may as well have been.
Arthur looks at him oddly and suddenly something at the back of Francis' mind tells him that something is about to go wrong - and it does, somehow. Arthur finally admits to being a little detached, but that's nothing new, really, and tells Francis that he isn't too attached to their relationship, that he shouldn't be. Francis suddenly feels his heart being smashed, but that's nothing new either, so he grins and bears it because he wouldn't dare showing Arthur any of that.
They spend the day together anyway, Francis entangling his hand with Arthur's - that's as far as he can go, apparently, - talking and listening and laughing, trying to hide the bothersome thoughts he suddenly harbored until Arthur left. And when Arthur left, Francis was surprised that he felt so numb - but he let it pass. He had to.
Francis went into a blind rage in the shower, thinking that might cool him off, and when he got out, his right knuckles were bruised.
He needed to feel something, but he couldn't feel upset. That restriction was the restriction he imposed on himself. He needed to reason, to find an answer to his turmoil and denial that didn't include being upset at Arthur - it's not his fault at all - he chided himself.
-x-x-x-
I was supposed to post this on Monday! D: Oh well, at least it's finally here! :'D It's a tad messy since I haven't written anything this angsty in a while - I kinda don't want to. >.< Might be bad for my health or something. x'D
Hetalia (c) Hidekaz Himayura