Chapter 7

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Arthur's POV

"Go do your homework, please," I say as we enter our home, and Peter, knowing my current mental state is rather fragile, obeys immediately, rushing up the stairs to his room.

Tangling my hands in my pale blonde locks, I lift myself onto my counter and breathe as deeply as possible. I can't get over what I did to Alfred today. I'm usually not one to care about punching someone, seeing as how they usually deserve it, but I'm in love with Alfred, as sad as it is to admit. The thought of hurting someone I love makes me feel disgusting inside. I need to talk to someone, but I'm sure as hell not calling Francis. He'll have a field day with this kind of information.

Not really knowing what else to do, I pull my cellphone out of my pocket and dial my Canadian friend's familiar number. I hope I don't interrupt anything by calling. He and his boyfriend are practically glued to each other. They've always been like that, ever since they started dating, and I doubt things with them will ever change. In all honesty, I don't want them to. The relationship they have is sort of refreshing, in a way.

I swing my legs back in forth, reminding myself of a child. God, I'm rather short, aren't I? 

Mathew picks up within a few rings, sounding as if he'd just be woken up from a nap or something. "Hey, Arthur," he greets, and I hear a yawn echo through the device.

"Oh, Mathew, I didn't interrupt you or anything, did I?" I ask, hoping I didn't disturb him. He's really much too nice for me to feel comfortable bothering him.

"No, you didn't. Actually, I'm glad you called." He yawns once again. "I've got to talk to you about something."

"Oh, enlighten me," I return, getting up to start making some tea for Peter and myself. Should I make Earl Grey or Black tea?

"It's about Alfred..."

Alfred's POV

"How do you plan on winning him over?" Francis asks me as I pace my kitchen in frustration.

"I don't know. I mean, how do you forgive someone who's done something like this?" I ask, angry with myself and my stupidity. I mean, Arthur is hot. I could've dated him! I have reason to be upset!

"To be fair, my friend," the Frenchman says, taking a slow drag from a freshly lit cigarette. "This kind of siituation is not exactly common." He gives me a pointed look, and I groan.

"Yeah, I get that I'm really stupid. You don't need to keep reminding me." I give him a bitter look, but that only succeeds in making him smile condescendingly at me. "I want advice, not to be mocked."

He nods. "Fine. Fine. What kind of relationship do you wish to have with Angelterre?" he asks, tilting his head as if he's in deep thought.

"I just want to make up for the shit I caused him." I sit down. The Frenchman gives me a pointed look, and I relent. "And, if he'll have me, I want to try and date him," I admit softly, and Francis smiles in victory.

"I'm glad you were finally able to admit your true feelings of amour," he says sensually, blowing out a ring of smoke with a grin. God, he can be really weird sometimes. Why am I friends with him again?

"Anyway," I state, trying to nonchalantly scoot further away from him. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Start by apologizing," he says with a shrug. "The best way to get passed the past is to have it be forgiven, not forgotten." Despite how I want to counter back with some lame argument, I know that's probably great advice. 

I sigh and nod. "I'll head over tonight. If any drama happens because of it, I don't want any students around," I state, and the blonde nods in agreement. 

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