Fire [FrUk Fanfiction]

The Flames Die Down

Hello, everyone! I have returned. Again, sorry about the long breaks, as usual, but I have been somewhat active in talking to readers over the chat. School began, as did therapy and counseling, hence my new chapter and somewhat cheery update. Like I said before, if anybody at all is having issues with depression, suicide, anything along those lines, please chat me. I love to talk to you guys. VERY QUICK WARNING: THIS CHAPTER MAY BE A TRIGGER, AS IT INVOLVES TERMINAL ILLNESS. If it isn't a major trigger, get ready for an ocean of feels! Anyway guys, thanks for reading, and pound that vote button like it's your job!!!
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Arthur and Francis sat together atop a hill, watching the sunset; their favorite date. Francis leaned back casually against the tree, his legs outstretched and his shirt half-unbuttoned. Arthur leaned against him, an arm around Francis's neck and the other resting against Francis's chest. Arthur's legs curled up and entwined themselves with Francis's. Arthur signed happily, never thinking he'd fall for a snobby Frenchman, but awfully glad he did. Francis began to close his eyes, ignoring the pain lingering inside of him. "Francis," Arthur's voice caused Francis's eyes to snap open. "What did you have to tell me before I rushed out the other night?"

"N-nothing, mon amour. So, how did it go at your flat?"

"Don't try to change the subject, you bloody idiot. And stop calling me 'mon amour'! Use English, damn it! It's 'My love.' Now Answer me. You seemed serious. You're almost never very serious. Is something wrong?"

Francis let out a heavy sigh, and rubbed his face. "I've been holding off on telling you this because I never thought we'd get this far. I-I...I love you with all of my heart and soul....and I think I can tell you. Arthur..." Francis took Arthur's hands in his own. "I...I have cancer...,"

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Arthur's entire body locked up. He couldn't speak; he couldn't breathe; he couldn't process the thought of his boyfriend being terminally ill. He quickly yanked his hands out of Francis's. "YOU WAIT THIS BLOODY LONG TO TELL ME?!" Arthur screamed, tears welling up in his eyes. "I FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU, ONLY TO HAVE YOU TAKEN AWAY?! WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME!" Arthur pounded his fists against Francis's chest, tears streaming down his cheeks. His pounding became softer as he cried harder. When he glanced up, Francis was crying, as well.

"I'm so sorry, mon amour. I wanted to wait and see if I could trust you or not...I'm so sorry." Francis stood, covering his face with his hands."

"How long?" Arthur snapped, choking on his tears.

"Pardon?"

"How long...how much longer do I have you."

Francis clenched his fists. "Three weeks." He swallowed.

"This better be some sick joke..." Arthur gasped, clutching his chest as if he'd been shot through the heart. To his horror, Francis rose his hands to his head. Very slowly, he slipped his fingers under his hairline and pulled his hair away to reveal a bald head; He'd been wearing a wig. Arthur stood slowly, tears still pouring out of his eyes like a faucet. "I..." He didn't finish his sentence. Turning on his heel, Arthur Kirkland bolted down the hill.

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Francis dropped to his knees and held his face in his hands. He threw his wig aside. Stupid tumor, he thought. Stupid frontal lobe. Stupid trust. Stupid everything. He hung his head and cried into his hands..