Unspoken Conversation
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He may not show it, but he was grateful.
Arthur had endured four years of war, stuck in muddy, disease and rat-infested trenches for his sake. The Englishman had amazing shooting skills, being able to fire of 15 accurate rounds per minute, and with these skills had managed to push back the German invasion of France.
The war was over now, much to everyone's - excepting Germany and his allies' - joy.
The negotiations had been done, and the world was at peace again.
But Francis could not get himself to thank Arthur.
He watched Arthur argue with Alfred, not joining in to escalate it like he normally would. Francis picked up his stuff and walked out the door, past Arthur, who paused in his response to Alfred. As soon as the door closed, Arthur sighed, still not having finished his sentence.
"Arthur? Are you okay?"
Arthur turned his attention back to Alfred, who looked worried about his former older brother.
"Yeah. I'm fine. I really need to go home now, Alfred. I'll see you next meeting."
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'Stupid, bloody git. I wonder what's wrong with him.' Arthur thought, closing the door to his house and locking it. He went and started making some tea for himself.
'I wonder if I did something that actually pissed him off…' Arthur speculated as he filled the kettle with water.
He had just put the kettle on when the doorbell rang.
Arthur mumbled some curses under his breath and went to open the door. He was more than surprised to see none other than Francis standing there. He looked strangely uncomfortable and holding a bouquet of roses. Arthur raised an eyebrow.
"What are you doing here, git?"
Did I make you mad?
A look of confusion passed over Francis' face for a moment, but was quickly replaced by his trademark grin.
"I came to talk to you, mon cher!"
What are you talking about? Of course not.
"Yeah, right. What makes you think that I'll let you in?"
Then why are you here?
"Because you love me!"
I need to tell you something.
Arthur sighed and moved aside to let Francis in, saying,
"No, I do not."
What is it?
Francis smiled again, and accepted the invitation into Arthur's house. Arthur led Francis back to the kitchen, asking,
"What in bloody hell do you want?"
Why are you here?
Francis held out the roses, saying,
"These are for you!"
Thank you.
Arthur took the roses, eyeing them suspiciously,
"Why are you giving these to me?"
For what?
"You deserve them! You're always working so hard!"
For helping me so much in the War.
"Not hard enough, according to everyone else."
I love you, that's why I helped.
Francis hugged the smaller Englishman suddenly, earning a surprised squawk of indignation.
"I think that you do."
I love you too.
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Author's note: I was watching WW1 documentaries for fun, like the geek I am, and I suddenly had the urge to write fluffy FrancexEngland. Apparently British soldiers were trained to shoot 15 accurate shots per minute, and it was those skills that really delayed the German advance to Paris. According to this documentary, at least. Also, for those of you who were wondering, everyone was at the League of Nations meeting (the predecessor to the UN) and all you history buffs(like me) are going to ask me why the hell Alfred was there if it was the League of Nations. Because although it was the President's idea to make it in the first place, the Republicans were like, "NO WAY IN HELL" and the US never joined. But I took a few liberties and stuck him in there anyway. (Alfred joined the UN after WW2, when it became evident that the US couldn't stay out of the world's affairs.)