The Scent of a Rose | By : larien04 Category: +G to L > Hetalia: Axis Powers Views: 2855 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia and I make no money off of this fic! |
The rest of the night went without incident and Arthurs fire and brimstone dreams faded into nothingness, allowing him to get a full nights rest; something he desperately needed. Arthur woke first, as was usual, and was slightly alarmed to find that somehow during the night his shirt was removed. He didn’t have a hangover, which was odd considering he normally had one anytime the words ‘party’ and ‘Francis’ were involved. If he wasn’t hung-over then why the hell was his shirt off and dear god why did it take his train of thought this long to realize that he had been sleeping on the older nation’s chest?
Arthur needed to assess the situation calmly before he started screaming and shoving because if he didn’t then the frog would wake up, and then he’d have to talk to the frog. Or maybe that was just what Arthur told himself to give himself some more time in the man’s arms. It was odd though, his natural reaction would normally be to punch Francis in the face for molesting him in his sleep but sleeping on top of the man seemed…natural, normal ;he couldn’t think of any other word to describe it. The feeling of crippling loneliness didn’t seem to bother him either. Maybe it would be ok if he stayed like this a few moments longer… the sound if snoring soon followed.
Francis’ eyes fluttered open and he was momentarily confused at the body contact next to him, and then he looked over and saw Arthur asleep, a frown on his face even in sleep. Francis let out a sigh of relief, so Arthur hadn’t left yet. He wondered at the time, it had to be early if he woke up before the strict-scheduled blonde. ‘Almost 10am?’ he thought to himself ‘Arthur has never slept this late in his life…wait a second, I woke up before England?! Ha!’ he grinned broadly, resisting the urge to laugh aloud. Reaching over and picking up the phone, Francis ordered breakfast to be delivered to the room; he was going to keep Arthur with him as long as humanely possible. It didn’t matter that the war was still going on; all that mattered was the man lying sleeping peacefully on top of him.
Turning his head he kissed Arthur on his head lightly “You can’t sleep the entire day away; at some point you have to make a contribution to the world. ” Francis teased, using the arm he already had around Arthur to pull him tighter to his chest.
“…I don’t have to contribute to anything, frog” came the mumbled reply of the blonde, who childishly buried his head into Francis’s chest.
“Êtes-vous toujours cette affection dans la matinée?” he smirked.
Arthur scowled “Don’t get excited, frog, I just don’t feel like moving at the moment…”
“And why would you want to move when you have such a beautiful man beneath you?”
Arthurs scowl deepened and he moved to get up “Where have you put my shirt, you rapist? I can only assume you ripped it off me while I was sleeping so you could ogle me. ”
“I did not rape you, you overly dramatic rosbif” came the faux offended response.
Getting out of the bed, Arthur leaned over to pick up his discarded t-shirt and he visibly paled when he saw the sweat stains.
“Did I wake you last night?” the Englishman could barely get the words out he was so horrified. Please, if there was a God; let it have made Arthur not have woken Francis last night with his screams.
Arthur heard the sound of the shower starting and breathed a sigh of relief; the Frenchman was oblivious as always and there was no way he had heard Arthur last night. How did his shirt get on the floor though? Magic. It was magic. There was absolutely no way in hell that Francis heard him screaming and that’s all there was to it.
“Arthur” Francis called from the shower “If somebody knocks on the door it’s just the room service I ordered. ”
“You ordered room service?! I’m not some French tart that you’re trying to seduce!” Arthur yelled back.
“No. You’re so much more…” the naked Frenchman said quietly to himself.
The breakfast came and a short while later and Arthur yelled for Francis to get out of the shower, along with some comment about how only girls take that long to shower.
“How would you know?” came the quick reply “I thought we concluded last night that you were disgusted by women, so I know there’s no way you would ever have one in your shower. ”
Turning about five shades of red Arthur admonished the Frenchman “Why are you so damn interested in my sexual preference you frog? I don’t go around asking you who you take to your bed do I? No, of course I don’t because it’s just bloody rude!” the British man huffed and began to prepare his breakfast from the little cart that was brought in.
Wearing nothing but a towel , Francis sat next to the Englishman on the bed and smirked that smirk of his that Arthur found completely alluring, but would never admit to in a hundred years “Arthur, if you were to ask me who I take to bed you would be rather surprised, mon ami.”
Arthur sighed and started to rub his temples “Please Francis, please for the love of… can you put some clothes on? It’s already terrible enough that I have to spend the morning with you, let’s try to make the most of our time together, shall we?”
“I understand if it is difficult for you to resist this body, many other have fallen helpless against my beauty” Francis responded, putting his hand on Arthur’s hand.
Pulling his hand away immediately and moving to the far end of the bed Arthur ignored the smiling blonde throughout the rest of the meal.
“Rester.” Francis said suddenly realizing that after breakfast, Arthur would want to leave as soon as possible.
“You know I don’t speak your silly language” Arthur responded.
“Stay.” Francis repeated seriously, this time in english.
“”What are you going on about? The war isn’t over for all of us, you know. ” Arthur looked away so as to avoid the Frenchman’s gaze, there was no way he was going to let Francis see him blushing. He wasn’t completely lying; he did actually have duties to tend to back on the war front even though the tasks had become so mundane and boring he wanted to shoot himself frequently.
“What did you mean last night about the scent of a rose?” Francis had gotten eerily serious and it was starting to freak out the British Nation a little bit.
“What the hell are you going on about?” Arthur honestly had no idea had gotten into his friend.
“Last night, right before you passed out, I was helping you into bed and you smelled my cologne and seemed to recognize the smell from somewhere; I asked you why it was that you remembered the smell and you said it was ‘the scent of a rose’. What does that mean, Arthur?”
Arthur concentrated, trying to recall the conversation but he had no idea what the man was going on about. Suddenly Francis leaned over and picked up his jacket that had been lying on the floor the entire time.
“Smell this” he held the jacket up for Arthur to take “It should still have the scent from my cologne. ”
Arthur took the jacket, thinking Francis was out of his mind and took in the fragrance of Francis’ cologne. The scent made Arthurs eyes fly open in recognition; “The scent of a rose. I remember it because it was one of the first scents, that wasn’t hospital, that I first smelled upon receiving the news I had lost my memory. There was a rose that was left in my jacket and it smelled…just like this. ” Arthur went silent as the realization hit him. “…but I don’t remember you putting that there…”
“I came in later, while you were sleeping to say goodbye to you, and I put the rose in your jacket hoping that it might spark your memory. ” Francis’ voice was tight like he was trying to suppress something; he hung his head, letting his hair fall into his eyes to hide his expression.
“What do you mean?” Arthur whispered, almost afraid of the response he was going to get. “What did you want me to remember?”
“Que je t'aime” Francis responded, turning to face Arthur.
A/N: Dun dun dun!
Translations:
Êtes-vous toujours cette affection dans la matinée? - Are you always this affectionate in the mornings?
Que je t'aime- That I love you.
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