La Tristesse

Chapter 2

Sealand was visiting. Arthur wasn't sure he liked it, but he was dealing with it anyway. He didn't try to raise young countries any more. Instead he remained indifferent and hoped they turned out better than Alfred had. Matthew had been neglected and he'd turned into a fine, non-obnoxious country. Clearly his input wasn't necessary.
"Let's play a game." Peter pleaded for what was probably the eighty-seventh time that day. "Or go to the park. Or something."
He glanced up from his tea and scowled. "Go read a book."
"Show me the basement!"
"Absolutely not."
"I was already down there."
The Brit raised his voluminous brows and set his cup aside, only know noticing that Peter had his hands behind his back. "What did you do?"
"Uh- not sure." Peter confessed. "Read some weird words from a black book. Had a chat with Russia. And then my hands turned blue."
Taking a long breath, Arthur counted down from ten and then back up again before responding. "Let me see."
Peter held out his hands and Arthur jumped back. "Good god you little idiot! Have you touched anything?"
"The entire loo is ice." The tiny country explained. "And the guest bedroom and the hall closet. A lot of the kitchen."
"You've got something on your face." Arthur hissed, touching his own cheek. "Just there."
Peter wiped at the spot and immediately panicked as his body stiffened. "Arthu-"
"Not to worry. It'll wear off in a few hours." He grinned, finishing his tea as Sealand froze there on the rug.
A few minutes and a lot of quiet reflecting later, the phone rang. He ignored it. He'd already put up with enough at the meeting and he did not intend to- his cell phone rang. Alfred's name lit up across the screen. "No." He said aloud.
"Better answer it." Mint bunny said, appearing in his lap.
"It's America. It can't possibly be important."
"I'll answer it!" A blue fairy chirped, dancing across the touch screen and connecting the call.
"Damn it!" Arthur snarled, shooing his friends away. "Get out of here!"
"Dude! Iggy! Important message from Canada, bro!" Alfred shouted from the other end of the line. "You there!?"
"Yes, I'm here." He sighed in response.
"Good! Now listen up!"
"For god's sake just tell me."
Alfred's voice lowered to a Matthew-like whisper. "It's raining in Paris."
There was a moment of silence wherein Arthur massaged the bridge of his nose and did some more counting. He was really trying to watch his blood pressure. "Alfred, I don't have time for your stupid spy games."
Alfred sighed heavily. "Man, you are so uncool. I thought you'd totally get the code."
"Alfred."
"Fine. Mattie called and said he can't get ahold of France."
"He's probably with Spain." He huffed, "Why would I care?"
"Dude don't be lame. We already called Spain and Romano wouldn't let us talk to him."
"His is not my problem."
"Come on, bro. Go check on him. You guys are neighbors."
"Don't remind me."
"Arthur seriously bro, you're being majorly uncool right now."
"You're the hero, you go."
"I would! But there's this thing I gotta do and it's totally unavoidable."
"Goodbye, Alfred."
"Whoa! Wai-"
He hung up and refused the next two calls. Why should he care if that bloody frog wasn't picking up his phone? Why any one would think he'd be the slightest bit interested in that wine sucking wanker's problems was beyond him. It's raining in Paris. What a load of rubbish. Francis was probably just after some attention and he'd be damned before he was the one to give it to him.
A blocked number called him and again he refuses it. Could Alfred being more stupid? Even un-bewitching Peter sounded more fun than mopping up Francis' bloody French tears all day. What did he even have to cry about?!
As soon as the thought entered his mind he regretted it. Images of bloody battles emerged from the careful mind-folder he'd placed them in. The look on Francis' face as Joan of Arc burned alive. Every wound, every scar, every hateful word.
He was suddenly turned off his tea.
But it wasn't like he hadn't been hurt either. Arthur had suffered too, many times by France's hand. It was hard not to hold a grudge, even if their bosses were the ones ultimately responsible. He remembered well the smug look on that frog's pretty face the day he took Alfred's side.
"He's always been a constant for you." Mint Bunny reminded, climbing up onto his shoulder, rumbling his shirt in the process. "He's always been there."
"Yes, and doing what? Tying my shoelaces together, tormenting me with his perversions and making fun of my cooking!"
"To be fair, your cooking is awful."
"I eat it."
"Clearly your tastebuds are not as lively as your imagination."
"I'm not in the mood for your lecturing right now M.B." He sighed heavily, resting his head on the back of the couch and closing his eyes. "He's fine. He'll slurp some snails and throw some glitter and he'll be right as rain again."
Mint Bunny snuffled in his ear. "Just like you're fine in July?"
"It's not my responsibility!" He shouted, brushing M.B. from his perch and scowling so deeply it hurt.
"Fluffy bunny is right~" A frighteningly familiar voice states from behind him. "When you have friends, you take care of them, da?~"
Chills ran up his spine. Peter had mentioned something about Russia, hadn't he? Wait- "Y-you can see Mint Bunny?"
Ivan smiled at him and nodded his confirmation.
"Sealand summoned you?"
More smiling.
He got to his feet slowly as Ivan raised his pipe cheerfully. "You'll check on France, da?"
"Just let me get my coat."

****
So, I was going to have Mattie text Arthur a big long guilt trip buuuuttt let's be real. Ivan is totally better. Also, I don't see Arthur going unless forced. He's just too tsundere.

K, bye.

P.s.
Sealand is going to be fine and Ivan is now walking around London aimlessly with his pipe.