Fire [FrUk Fanfiction]

Cold as Ice

Sup guys! So I had the idea for this fanfic a while ago, it's FrUk, and you've been begging for a sequel to Blood Red Roses, so what's better than one FrUk fanfiction? TWO FRUK FANFICTIONS!!! Unfortunately, this one is going to end up a bit sad...hint hint...
But that won't be for a while! This fanfiction is based on fire, the way it grows and grows, and can be extinguished so very easily, and how fire relates to love. SO SORRY I HAVE NOT BEEN UPDATING. I've been really busy with school -.- and I've been having a bit of writers block, and a few bouts of depression....which is why I'm bringing to you a FrUk fanfiction that will have you all in tears! Enjoy!:)
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Arthur Kirkland dropped his backpack on the couch in his dank, gloomy, 2 room apartment. He had moved to Paris to try and become bilingual and find a higher class job, but he was failing his French classes. He groaned, sat on the couch, and ran his fingers through his tangled blonde hair. Paris was nothing like London, his hometown. There was one boy in his class, Francis, that Arthur admired. Francis was a star French student, popular as a boy band, and...well...not the type of person to notice Arthur. Arthur was bullied every day, for his looks, his name, his accent, his personality, the way he was so sad, everything. It didn't bother him at first, but it was starting to chisel away at him, little by little. He was getting closer and closer to using the little razor blade he kept in his nightstand drawer.
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At that same moment, Francis Bonnefoy threw his backpack to the side of his snazzy, stylish, 4 room apartment, not looking up from his phone, as he was texting his friends Antonio and Gilbert about a few of the girls in gym class. He shut his phone off, pocketed it, then took off his white suit coat and set it on the back of a kitchen chair. Girls admired him every day of his life; his friends were always at his sides; yet still, he felt a loneliness in his heart that wasn't supposed to be there. He decided to eat ice cream with nothing but boxers on. Making sure none of his friends were creeping around his house, Francis threw his clothes off, lay down on the couch with a tub of French vanilla ice cream, and turned on Doctor Who.

Damn, he loved those sexy British accents.