Towers

8

The three sat in the living room. Francis' hand was finally bandaged. Arthur and Alfred stared at him like Hawks. He simply just kept looking to the window to ignore them.

"You did this last time." Alfred spoke up.

"Last time?"

"Yeah, I came by a few days ago and he did this." Arthur looked back to Francis with a bit of wonder.

"Francis." No response. "Francis." He repeated. This time he got a glare.

"Don't you two have anything better to do?" He turned to them.

"Do you really think this isn't important?"

"Yes."

"I swear-"

"If you're going to get mad go right ahead. You won't be helping me either way."

"You little-"

"Arthur, calm down." Alfred spoke up. "He's trying to piss you off." Francis all but smirked.

"Observant." The smirk left his face. "If you're so observant, why are you still here?"

"Because I'm worried."

"Why?"

"You know damn well why." Alfred's stare grew intense. "Your hand was just bleeding for fucks sake."

"Seems that your getting pissed."

"What did you expect?"

"My god, I didn't think you could be such a prick!" Arthur yelled. "Do you think we haven't gone through something similar? You may be older than us but that doesn't mean we don't understand! You think I don't look myself in the mirror everyday and start thinking these horrible thoughts?" He stood up grabbing Francis by the collar. "I hate breathing just as much as you do but this is no way to deal with it!"
Silence filled the room quickly.

"I'm sorry."