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Different Hearts, Same Love	By : FlayraDowitcher Category: +G to L > Hetalia: Axis Powers Views: 1571 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. I am making no money off of this fic.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
Summary:With a strange disease sweeping across the land, Francis, a nobleman, escapes his city. Lost in the woods without a clue, he meets strange yet fascinating man named Arthur who resides in the forest. Two men from completely different worlds try to get along as they travel to a place free of disease. However, Arthur is harboring a deadly secret from Francis. FrancisxArthur AU

*** Hello everyone! Well, this is my first FrUk fanfiction focusing on JUST the pairing. ^_^ This will be a fantasy/adventure AU. Since I am writing two fics at a time, chapters may be shorter than my normal word length. Please read on and enjoy! R&R!

***Warning: Language, humor, suggestive themes

***Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. This fic is for fun. I am making no money from it.

Prologue

The disease came silently in the night while people lay resting safely in their beds.

No one in the city really cared for the sudden illness taking the homeless and elderly. To them, it was simply a matter of nature. However, over a short period of time, the disease began to spread throughout the common folk. First it started out with four or five people dying, all who lived in close contact with each other. Then the disease moved at a rapid pace, wiping out ten to twenty people a day. The system was beginning to collapse and people started to panic, turning on one another in fear of contacting the disease.

The common folk begged for help and protection outside the kingdom wall where all the highborn noble folk and king resided. The wall was thirty feet high and made of solid stone. Even the entrance had two iron gates behind a drawbridge, successfully keeping out enemies and peasants. Peasants received no mercy for any ill talk or futile attacks against the nobles. Guards were perched constantly on the rim of the wall and ordered to kill anyone they saw as a threat.

The disorderly conduct continued until one day the peasants led a successful revolt and scaled the wall; their anger, fear, and will to live urged them to build massive ladders and sturdy ropes. The guards were outnumbered and reinforcements could not come quickly enough to aid the watchmen. Soon the common folk had entered into the nobles private city, bring with them disease, vengeance, and death. The nobles were forced to scatter or attempted to run. Many nobles did not make it through the doors of their elaborate houses. Throughout the night peasants raided the nobles' homes, taking with them valuable goods and gold. After a long three days later, the king assembled his army and sent it to destroy the common city. He burned down houses, farms, and religious houses. The entire kingdom engulfed in an endless flame.

Few escaped.

Chapter 1

Francis Bonnefoy, a young noble lord lay face down in the dirt on the forest floor; he no longer had the strength to keep running and collapsed onto the earth. The soft rumble of thunder could be heard in the distance and Francis smiled. Hopefully the heavy rain would put out the fire eating away at his city. Francis lifted his head for a moment to glance behind, seeing a pale orange glow that was the fire in the city. He was one of the very few nobles who had escaped unharmed and free of disease. Francis did not think, he just ran through the streets disguised as a peasant and left the city burning behind him to escape to the woods.

Now, after running for hours on uneven ground and a steep hill, Francis' legs had finally given out on him. The noblemen's daily life held nothing of this extreme sort. Francis was used to clean marble floors, a soft bed, endless baths, rich foods, fancy clothes, perfumes, jewelry, noblemen sports, and gold. All he had now was the simple bed clothes he was wearing, thin slippers, a peasants cloak, and his favorite sapphire necklace. Everything else of his was engorged in flame. His body was covered with mud, and tiny sticks and leaves were tangled in his golden wavy locks. The outdoors were definitely not for him.

Francis lifted his head when he heard the sound of leaves crunching under weight. The weight seemed to belong to a person walking. Francis felt a smile of relief stretch across his face, but it quickly died when something solid hit him in the back of the head and he fell unconscious.

When Francis woke up next, he felt he aching throb in his skull and groaned, yet he realized that he was no longer buried face down in the dirt but rather in a bed. The bed was rough, smelly, and unbearably uncomfortable. A blanket of animal hide and fur covered his body, which was still caked in mud. He wanted the dried earth off of his clothes, feet, and hands. Alas, where was the man?

Francis looked around the room, analyzing it from top to bottom. No doubt it was a hunters' hut or cabin for it was only a single foundation. To the far right was a ladder that lead to a tiny loft covered in hay. A warm fire burned in the hearth beneath an iron cauldron. Various animal pelts lined the wall along with dozens of dried herbs, fruit, and meat. To his left was a poorly made wooden table covered in tiny clay containers, a stack of three old books, and a bowl with its pestle. What disturbed him the most were the bones that hung from the ceiling rafters, each bundle a mix of various sizes.

'Where am I?' he thought to himself. 'This is a very odd place.'

The wooden door in the center of the wall opened with a lift of a latch. Francis sat up in the bed eager to see who, or what, would come through that door. A heavy cloaked figure entered the cabin with a small dead animal in their right hand. The person was dressed from head to foot in self-made clothes of hide and fur. Francis could not see the person's face for it was darkened by a hood. He did notice some blonde wisps of hair peeking out from the forehead. Francis could not tell if it were a man, woman, or beast. The thing did not seem to notice him until it spoke.

"So you're awake," the statement was flat and simple, spoken with a man's voice, or so it would seem.

"Yes, I am," Francis answered. "May I ask why I'm here? I remember blacking out, and then I woke up in this bed… which I think has bugs in it." Francis felt something bite his wrist so he quickly stood up, brushing frantically at his clothes.

The person did not turn to look at him; the other simple went to the table with the dead animal. He, or she, pushed the other contents to the side and proceeded to cut off slabs of flesh. Francis had to put a hand over his mouth to keep from gagging. "That's just like a noble, unable to see where the meat he eats actually comes from or understand how it is prepared."

Francis gave him a curious look, completely taken off guard by the strange set of words. "Excuse me? You know who I am? How do you know I am a noble?"

The person did not look up from the meat. "Trust me, I don't have to know your name to recognize the fact that you are indeed a noble. For starters, your hair is kept trimmed and clean. The clothes you wear are made from a very tight weave done by skilled craftsmen, not common folk. And your body smells of rich perfumes and oils, not the same as the stench of hard work."

Francis placed his hands on his hips and glared at the person. "I see you are one of those anarchists. If you detest nobles so much then why am I here? What point was there in saving me? If I needed saving, that is." The person made no response. "I demand that you answer me, servant!" He pointed his finger at the person.

"I am no servant of yours, your family, or your kingdom."

"And just whom do you serve under?"

"Myself!" The person lifted their head to glare at him but Francis still could not make out a face for it was darkened by the hood. "I saved you because despite my loathing… you are still a person who lives and breathes as I do. I will not take a life without a fair and just cause." They went back to the meat, finishing with the cutting only to toss the slabs into the cauldron.

Francis cleared his thought. "May I be so bold as to ask for your name? Are you a sir? A madam?"

The person stood up and removed the cloak, revealing a slightly tangled mess of short blonde hair. The head turned to face him and Francis gasped at the pair of green eyes that locked to his noble blue orbs. The person looked to be a man, but Francis had been with enough friends and lovers to understand how easily one can be deceived. Whether it be a man or woman, they had the bushiest eyebrows he had ever seen. "I am a sir," the man answered.

"Are you certain?" He tapped his chin and fingered the stubble there. "A single person living out here all alone? Women dressing up as men to keep safe is not unheard of." He smiled as those green eyes narrowed dangerously at him.

"I am NOT a woman! I don't even sound like one!"

Francis smirked and crossed his arms. "Then lift your various furs and show me your flat chest. Or better yet, drop your pants so I can see what lies between your legs."

"YOU ARE A VULGAR PERVERT!" the man shouted. "I do not have to expose myself to you! Do not think I'm one of those prissy love slaves whom you have in those giant orgies!"

Francis chuckled sweetly. "So you know about those? Are they a secret fantasy for you?" Francis' smug smirk was quickly chased away by the blade that flew by his head. The blade hit the wall behind him, but Francis saw a few of his golden strands float to the floor. He gulped.

"Piss me off again, and see what happens," the man sneered at him before turning back to the pot. "My name is Arthur. Arthur Kirkland. Solid male," he said the last words through his teeth.

"Oh! I am Lord Francis of the house of Bonnefoy! You shall address me as such," he stated proudly.

Arthur shook his head. "Your city is on fire and your house is destroyed. Out here in the woods you will find no security behind stone walls and armed guards. Here you have only your wits and weapons to keep you alive. So in the laws of the wood, you are simply Francis Bonnefoy."

Francis stepped closer to him. "Until you refer to me as 'Lord Francis' I will continue to call you 'servant'.

Arthur froze in stirring. "Then perhaps you should leave my home and continue on your way. Just to where was it that you were heading? Perhaps I can give you directions."

Francis frowned for he knew that he did not have a destination in mind. The only thought on his mind was getting as far away from the city siege as possible. Francis had stayed in the royal city his entire life for it was self-contained living. Everything nobles would ever need lie within the city, from gardens to bathhouses and markets. This was his first time actually being in the woods that was not a row of neatly tended trees and shrubs in a courtyard. Still, he would not let Arthur know how unfamiliar he was with the woods; he did have his pride.

"For your information, I have escaped the city due to a peasants' revolt. I needed to get away safely and the woods will conceal me. Perhaps you would be so kind as to point me in the direction of the next major city?" That covered up his dilemma well enough.

"You wouldn't survive one night in these woods," Arthur said with a smirk, walking over to a pile of firewood. He took a log and brought it over to the hearth for the fire. "There are wild animals, outlaws, and strange happenings. If you do not know how to fare in these woods, then you will likely end up dead."

Francis scoffed, "I am not a moron. How hard can it be to live off the land?" He brushed a strand of wavy hair back but started fussing with it when he felt a leaf.

Arthur said nothing and started gathering a few things from his various ceramic jars and baskets. Francis ignored his hair to focus on Arthur and what the man was doing. Arthur placed a number of items on the table in a line, each bit separated into a group. Green eyes mocked him accompanied by a smug smile. "Then put your money where your mouth is. On this table I have some very basic plant life. Some of these are edible, others taste bad, and some are poisonous." Francis looked at the plant items on the table. "Now say you are traveling and you grow very, very hungry. You come upon a gathering of mushrooms, each different. Which do you eat?"

Francis lifts his blue eyes to stare into the laughing green ones. "What are you getting at?"

Arthur shrugged his shoulders. "You are the one who thinks you can survive in the outside world. So go ahead and pick one." He pointed to the mushrooms, one white, the other brown, and the third red. "Some things are not what they seem. Choose wisely."

Francis studied the three mushrooms in front of him, trying to visually decipher which one is for eating. He had seen white ones on his plate with dinner and remembered learning how many different types of foods exist; this would include mushrooms. He turned his attention to the red one, thinking that it would be the most deadly because of its color. Thinking back on his studies, he read that anything bright of color was poisonous, be it insect, arachnid, reptile, or food. He smirked and pointed to the red.

"This one is poisonous."

"You're wrong." Arthur grinned. "I bet you are thinking because it is bright red that it is bad. Actually, this mushroom only tastes bad and will give you a horrible bellyache. It is used for herbal medicine. This brown one is actually the most poisonous and it will kill you if eaten in bulk."

"So I was right in knowing that the white is safe to eat since I've had them before."

Arthur shook his head. "Not all white mushrooms are edible. You are correct in saying this one is safe to eat because it is. However, I can show you at least five different types of white mushrooms that could kill you." Francis just stared at him with a dumbfounded expression. "So you would have just picked up any white mushroom you saw and eaten it, not knowing more than one type exists?" Arthur laughed. "Oh yeah, you're ready for the woods!"

Francis cleared his throat knowing full well that he had just been caught in a lie. He turned his back to Arthur and crossed his arms. "Very well then, so I am not versed in the ways of the wood, but I know I can learn. I am a highly educated individual."

Arthur tapped his cheek. "So where will you go from here? You can't go back to your city swarming with fire and disease. So where will you go?"

Francis glanced over his shoulder at Arthur. "I don't know. I know there are many other cities, kingdoms, and towns all over the world, but I do not know which ones are near." He turned his head away to grit his teeth. "Can you tell me where the nearest city is?" Then he added. "Once I am there I can make my way to the city of Stargburg where I have some family."

"I would have to guide you there for it is many days away, even more so on foot," Arthur said and went back to the soup. "I know how to get to Stargburg."

"So will you take me then? I promise I will pay you when we arrive!" He turned back around to look at Arthur with hopeful blue eyes. "How far away is it? Will it take us long?"

Arthur kept stirring the soup. "Quite a while, I'm afraid. We will be on foot and not traveling the roads."

"Why not?"

"The disease, of course." Arthur answered. "Everyone will be taking the roads to leave and with that they carry the illness. We are safer going through the woods where we will have no contact with people. Don't worry, I'll keep you safe from all harm." Arthur chuckled and Francis' eyebrow twitched.

"You will see, Arthur, how quickly I learn! I will know these woods as well as you do within a short time!"

Arthur turned laughing green eyes to him. "I don't doubt you will learn some things, but to be at my level? Well, that takes years to accomplish." Arthur removed two bowls from a shelf above the hearth and filled them with the soup. "It's rabbit soup, nothing more." He placed the bowls on the table and sat down. "Well, come on then! Eat!"

Francis sat down on the wobbly wooden stool and looked at the bowl of bubbling pinkish liquid. Bits of rabbit floated to the top accompanied by carrots and some sort of root. Francis felt his stomach curl into a knot at the sight of the food, which he was unaccustomed to. He looked over at Arthur who had already begun to eat. Francis took notice of Arthur's appearance, confirming that he was indeed a man.

Arthur was clearly one of those men who had grown up in the woods. Francis could only assume such at the moment, but it seemed to fit. Arthur took care of himself and lived all alone. Francis wondered if anyone at one time had lived with him, such as a sibling, a parent, a lover, or a wife. The two of them were still not friendly enough towards the other to start exchanging personal questions. Arthur wore furs, an old linen shirt and pants, simple hide boots, and a cloak. His skin was pale but his face was smudged in dried dirt. The blonde hair, which was darker than his, seemed to cling to Arthur's head due to poor hygiene. Granted, Francis understood that Arthur did not have the luxuries of his life and hygiene was uncommon among peasants. Peasants and the poor were known to smell horrid as if they had rolled around in a filthy animal stable. Arthur smelt of earth and herbs, nothing at all like an animal.

Still, Francis could not bring himself to be near the wild man. He almost wanted to drag Arthur to a lake somewhere and scrub him down.

"Eat your soup," Arthur ordered softly.

"Um…while I appreciate your hospitality…the soup is a bit…well…not my style." He gave a lopsided smile.

"Fine. Then starve." Arthur took Francis' bowl away and began eating it.

"H-Hey! That's mine!"

"You said you didn't want it!"

"You can't just take it!"

Arthur hissed, "I made it!" Francis whipped the bowl away from him and took the wooden spoon.

"I'll try your disgusting soup!" He dipped the spoon into the thick liquid and brought it to his mouth. He looked down at the little bits of "something" floating in it. Forcing his lips open, Francis stuck the spoon into his mouth and sucked off the liquid. Once the soup hit his taste buds, Francis could have swore he felt his hair stick straight up. His eyes crossed at the bitter taste of it and nearly spit it out, but forcefully swallowed it. His whole body gave a shudder.

"Well?"

"I may not be an expert on wild food," he cleared his throat. "But I am certain it can't taste like this."

Arthur's green eyes narrowed at him. "That is fine cuisine you are eating there!"

"Sure." Francis pushed the bowl over to Arthur and smiled. "Here, you have it."

"So you're not going to eat the soup?" Arthur scoffed. "Then have some of the dried fruit and meat on the wall."

Francis did just that, taking a few pieces of meat and fruit. There was always dried meat handy at his house so he knew what it would taste like. He hummed in delight at the delicious taste of the seasoned meat. Francis looked around the cabin as he continued to chew the tough meat, searching for signs of another person who may live there. Francis was about to ask Arthur if he lived there alone until something moved from the corner of his eye. He turned slightly to see a brownish, green-scaled snake hanging from one of the baskets. Its coils wove around the handle of the basket and its beady green eyes stared at Francis. Francis stared right back at it, his body stiff. When a little red tongue poked out, he jumped.

"GAH! SNAKE!" Francis was not necessary afraid of snakes, but when one appeared suddenly like this it was enough to give anyone a start. "Arthur! There is a snake in here!"

Arthur laughed as he got up from his seat and went over to the other. "It is a harmless snake, don't worry." Francis watched in shocked awe as Arthur carefully unraveled the snake from the basket and held it in his hands. "See?"

"Did you just…?"

"I've always been fond of snakes." He gave a smug smile before bringing the snake over to the window and let it slither out.

"So you… do this often? With snakes?" Francis blinked at him.

"I like animals, more so than people." He closed and locked the window. "A storm is coming. Best we settle in for the night."

"That sounds like a good plan." Francis went over to the bed and sat upon it.

"Excuse me?" Arthur sneered. "That is MY bed. YOU can sleep in the loft!"

Francis flipped his hair. "I am a noble lord. I get the bed, hands down." Francis found the front of his shirt gripped in Arthur's fist. Green eyes glared angrily into his.

"As I said before, you are no lord here! You are only Francis! Now get out of my bed!" Arthur yanked him up from the bed and shoved him into the center of the cabin.

Francis looked shocked. "Are you mad? No one pushes Francis Bonnefoy out of their bed! Everyone is urging to climb into it WITH me!"

"Everyone except ME." Arthur hissed and climbed into his bed, clothes and all. "Don't waste flattering yourself with me, fancy-pants! Nobles do nothing for me! Now sleep in the loft!" Arthur angrily buried himself under the fur blankets, his back to Francis.

"I wouldn't sleep with you anyway because you smell and are covered in dirt!"

Francis waited for a response from Arthur but when none came he decided to give up. He looked at the wobbly ladder and frowned. How far he had fallen in such a short time. Francis had gone from luxurious beds with silk sheets, pillows, and curtains to a stack of old moldy hay. He examined the straw closely and shifted bits around, checking for any snakes or bugs. Francis was still exhausted and needed to rest despite the conditions. It was either the hay or Arthur, so he chose the hay.

As he settled into the flat bed of hay, Francis kept his eyes focus on Arthur's slumbering form in the dying firelight. Francis took note of Arthur's bed, questioning the size of it. The bed was wide enough for two people to sleep in it comfortably, yet there was only one. Francis had to wonder if Arthur could even have built this place by himself. Perhaps the man bought it or found it abandoned? It was a logical explanation. To Francis, it just seemed odd that one man could live here all by himself. Were there other cabins around the area? Was there a forest town somewhere? If not, then what was Arthur? Was he a fugitive? An outlaw? A thief? A warlock? Whichever it was, he knew damn well Arthur would not tell him if asked. Francis would have to find out for himself.

Just as he was settling down in the hay, a crash of thunder startled him. The rain drummed heavily on the roof, so loud that Francis was certain there would be no sleep for him tonight. He may as well be outside in the storm itself for it was probably less noisy. Some heavy dripping came from the area by his feet and he looked behind to see some rain droplets collecting in a bowl. He rolled his eyes and covered his ears. There was no way he would be sleeping on old hay while water loudly clanged in that bronze pot. Francis looked at Arthur's sleeping form before retreating down the ladder. He stood beside the bed and gulp, holding his nose as he settled himself under the furs.

Francis turned his face to look at the back of Arthur's head. His nose wrinkled as he gazed at the blonde mop, probably swarming with ticks and lice. Oh, how he craved his soft, silk sheets and the sweet smelling hair of a beautiful woman or man. Ceramic ceilings, marble floors, decorative archways, rich carpets, stone pillars. He legitimately thought he was going to cry. He was too beautiful to be stuck in the repulsive environment! A small, dinky cabin was not where a nobleman belonged!

Francis froze when Arthur, in his sleep, rolled over and cuddled into him. He brought his hand up to plug his nose and tried to push the other away with his free hand. Arthur did not smell horribly, but it was more than enough for Francis to panic about. The other gave a little moan and latched on to him, the hot sticky furs pressing against his arm. Something seemed to be crawling on him and he was unsure if it was snake or a bug. Francis let go of his nose and gave Arthur a hard shove to the other side of the bed. This sharp movement, of course, woke up the other immediately. Green eyes bore into blue and both men were silent. Suddenly, Arthur's features turned dark and with a mighty kick, pushed Francis onto the floor.

"DOGS SLEEP ON THE FLOOR!"

"OUCH! HOW DARE YOU! I AM-"

"Don't you EVER get into my bed again! How dare you!"

Francis stood up quickly. "You were cuddling into me, I'll have you know!"

Arthur growled. "I did no such thing! I would never lay down with anyone!"

"Ha! Everyone has laid down with someone! Don't tell me you're a shy, little virgin!"

"WHAT DOES THAT HAVE TO DO WITH ANYTHING!" Arthur flared. "It's none of your business what I do or what I have done or who I've done it with! Get back to the loft!"

Francis crossed his arms and looked away. "I refuse to sleep up there. Have you noticed the leak?"

"No. That bucket just magically appeared there!" Arthur hissed. "Figure out your own damn sleeping arrangement. You will NOT get into this bed!"

"Good! I don't want to be in it anyway! It smells of dirt and mushrooms!"

Arthur stuck his nose in the air. "GOODNIGHT!"

"GOODNIGHT!" Francis stormed back up the ladder and laid in the loft, huffing slightly as he glared at the leak. 'Okay Francis, calm down. The storm won't last all night. It will end shortly, you just have to wait and be patient.'

By morning, the storm had stopped and Francis had finally fallen asleep, only to be woken up again. His bloodshot eyes opened and peered at the annoyed blonde in front of him, standing on the ladder. Francis glared at the other man. What was he doing, and why was he waking him up?

"Start waking up. We have to set out on our journey soon. I've already started packing and your bag is ready."

Francis bit his nails while he watched Arthur fill the sacks with what they need. He eventually climbed down and had a sack shoved into his arms. Francis raised a brow and looked at Arthur. "What is this?"

"Your sack. That's what you have to carry."

Francis smirked proudly. "I shall not. It's hard enough to carry the one 'sack' I already have!"

Arthur glared at him. "Carry it." Arthur slung his own across his back, and then took his bow and quiver from the wall. He strapped a belt with a dagger attached to it. There were two small pouches looped onto the belt as well.

"Don't I get a weapon?" Francis asked with a pout.

"Why in the world would I give YOU a weapon?" Arthur raised a heavy brow. "You can't even hold some hay in your hands and you want me to give you a weapon? HA!" He smirked. "I'm the one who will be protecting you, remember?"

"Oh, you won't have to for long. I told you that I will learn the ways of the wood. Just wait and see." He gave a proud, smug smile.

"And you will be dead within two days." Arthur made sure the fire was completely out before going to the door. "Ladies first."

"Har har." He tossed his hair. "Aren't you the least bit worried about leaving your house unattended?"

"I will come back to it. If someone is living here I will simply shoo them away. Now let's go! I want to get to the next city before I grow a beard!"

"Oh, no, it's a bad look," Francis said with a disgusted 'why would you think that' look. "Especially on you who needs every ounce of cuteness he can get!"

"Maybe it won't be the woods that kills you. It might just be me. OUT!"

Francis tossed the heavy bag over his back and with a 'hmph', stormed past Arthur.

Arthur gave the hint of an evil smirk at Francis' retreating back before pulling the door closed.

/

The nobleman following behind Arthur could not be more useless and pathetic. The man must not have done many chores growing up, if any at all. Just walking up a wooded hill with a back sack was enough to have him panting with exhaustion. Arthur knew enough about nobles to know that lounging about and having sex orgies were the highlights of the day. The common folk worked and slaved every day for the health and luxuries of the rich, which was enough to make him sick. That has been why he had taken to the woods at such a young age, to escape the material world.

The woods were full of life and clouded in mystery. Arthur always felt at home when he was in the woods or walking through a meadow. Ever since he was little, Arthur could hear 'the trees whispering' or the 'flowers laughing'. He could see things other children could not, such as unicorns and other magic beasts. Other children were often afraid of him and they would throw rocks or sticks, calling him names. He had never known his parents growing up in a group boarding home with many other children. Arthur was proud to have finally left the horrible environment that gave him nothing but shame and grief. In the woods no one would question his strange behaviors or complain about snakes in his pockets or bugs in jars.

From there, Arthur had met a group of people who were almost just like he. Those men could not hear the trees and the flowers whispering, but they could perform all sorts of magic that made sense to him. These people lived in the woods and taught Arthur everything he needed to know in order to survive. He was a valuable member of the tribe, and so would be Francis. Arthur had his own agenda for the stuck-up nobleman. He was not taking him to the city, but rather to a secret spot where Arthur's kinsmen resided. From there, the 'plan' could finally move forward now that they had a sacrifice. Arthur grinned darkly from ear to ear.

"Arthurrrrrr!" Francis whined. "My hair is sweaty and sticking to my face! My feet have blisters, and I'm starting to smell like an onion! Why can't we rest? A man as handsome as I should be allowed ample time to rest!"

Arthur ignored the ongoing whining. 'I can put up with this jackass for a little while.'

End Chapter 1 TBC
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Different Hearts, Same Love