Fight and Flight (Arthur and Francis)

[Francis Bonnefoy]

Francis blinked hastily, trying to shake the blurriness in his eyes. Silly emotions, they were getting the better of him.

"'M not crying," he mumbled, but the lump in his throat remained.

Arthur's body next to his was wonderfully warm, as if the passion that blazed within the pirate seeped out to envelop Francis as well. Francis nestled himself comfortably in Arthur's arms, bringing his own around the pirate and marveling at how well they fit together.

"I don't want to sleep yet," murmured Francis. He was honestly afraid that Arthur would disappear if Francis took the chance.

With a deep breath, Francis tentatively reached up and smoothed Arthur's hair away, his hand lingering on the pirate's cheek.

[Cpt. Arthur Kirkland]

Arthur allows the other to rest against him, shifting a little so they fit together better a bit more. He doesn't make any notable reaction to it.

However, when Francis reaches up and brushes his hair away, lingering on his cheek, he turns his head to look at the other, gazing at him for a few, long moments.

Before anything can happen though he exhales a small sigh, reaching up to move the man's hand away. There's a very slight frown, though it's more mere inference.

"Now that's a little backwards. I only said I'd stay with you if you'd go to sleep. What are you afraid of, being eaten by the foxes? They're actually rather cute."

[Francis Bonnefoy]

Francis placed the unwanted hand back to rest across Arthur's back, and a tiny smile played on Francis' lips. He lay with Arthur for a moment, unable to look away from his eyes.

"Don't be silly," he whispered with a secretive chuckle. "I rather like foxes. Cunning, solitary, opportunistic, even deadly...but sensitive, beautiful, beautiful survivors."

Francis' other hand slid to rest on Arthur's chest, just above his heart. The strong, steady beats pulsed through Francis and filled his entire being.

"Of course you'd like them too." Francis leaned forward to touch his forehead to Arthur's. "It's just - I don't want to wake up and find out you're gone again."

[Cpt. Arthur Kirkland]

Arthur feels himself become rather anxious, though he's not quite sure why -- just how Francis was practically snuggling to him, the soft smile on his lips. He honestly wasn't used to it. He wasn't used to someone showing simple content at his presence, by someone who was older than a mere child.

In fact, when Francis rests his forehead forward it's so awkward that Arthur practically jumps, snapping his head suddenly. It causes them to hit their heads together. He looks at him, a little shocked and awkward.

"Blimey, y-you're getting intimate--" He splutters out, more out of being uncomfortable than an insulting remark. He swallows slightly and rolls onto his back, away from the other. He looks up at the stars above them, and sighs, trying to get rid of the headache he's not just gained.

He barely suppresses a snigger, though.

"I guess that's me. Here one day, gone the next, only a headache to remember me by That is horribly true of my life, I've found."

Ouch.

[Francis Bonnefoy]

This time, Francis' whimper was real as he rubbed his sore forehead. He was tempted to throw Arthur a glare, but settled for a reproachful look. Francis was much more disappointed that Arthur had moved away than nearly breaking his skull.

"Your drinking partners may agree," said Francis dryly, "but seeing as I am not one of those infernal, uncouth souls, I'd like to think our situation will turn out better than that."

He huffed in exasperation to himself, glancing at Arthur. What did it have to take for Arthur to respond to Francis properly? Throw himself at the pirate?

Undeterred, Francis shifted to his side, rolling over to rest his head on Arthur's arm. He wrapped his arms around the pirate's waist and settled into him snugly again.

[Cpt. Arthur Kirkland]

"Our situation?" He remarks, his expression suddenly going sour. "Our situation? What the heck is that?!"

It's at this point he sits up, no, he stands up and dusts himself off, looking at the Frenchman. His expression's gone hard.

"What are you playing at? What the bloody hell are you expecting, that I'm going to fall into your arms? You think I can trust you, even if you saved my life? People don't walk into other's and love unconditionally like that. Even you keep going on about me 'oweing' you something, so you're definitely not exempt from that."

He pauses, and looks down. Then he suddenly moves to stamp out and rid the fire.

"You know what? I'm taking you back to your manor. Because you know what else foxes are? Alone. They don't need anybody else. Come on." He spits, starting to march off through the trees again.

[Francis Bonnefoy]

Francis felt his breath leave his body as he hit the ground much harder than his back could take. With a groan, he rolled over to his stomach to watch, bewildered, as Arthur seemed to retreat back into fury.

"No..." he breathed as Arthur began to stomp away again.

Never before had Francis considered giving up the comforts of his mansion to the cold, hard forest floor, but if that was what it took to make Arthur stay with him, Francis would. He scrambled to his feet and rushed after Arthur, catching the pirate by the shoulders and whirling Arthur around to face him.

"Why can't you understand?" Francis was both livid and incredulous. Of all the people in the world...it had to be this dense, emotionally-stunted man. "What will it take for you to get it through that stubbornly thick skull of yours that I'm here, and I care? That the only way I can get your attention is by claiming you are indebted to me, when in fact, you owe me nothing? That I'm willing to belong with you?"

Francis fingers tightened and he pushed Arthur roughly away. "Stupid, stupid, stupid - !"

[Cpt. Arthur Kirkland]

Arthur will admit, he was taken aback. He stands there, eyes wide for a moment. Then he sort of hesitates, before putting a hand to his arm, where Francis had dug his fingers in.

"... You're willing to... belong to me?..."

His expression switches just as quickly as it did before, to something that implies that Francis hit far, far far too close to home. The pain and bitterness is clear as day in his eyes, which become progressively more moist.. His voice is strained.

"...Who do you think you are? You... You think you can just... come into my life, and do as you wish as who you are to me? My God, you are a noble. You think you can do what you want. I just told you, you froggy git. I don't need anyone. How should I even know how to have people in my life? I never even grew up with them."

He glares.

"You depend yourself on emotions. It's pathetic. You're older than me. Grow up. Y-You know what? You can find your own way home. Bloody.. arse.."

And with that, he turns away and stalks away. If Francis actually followed Arthur he'd come to the clearing of the forest to where he could easily see his manor, but Arthur doesn't look back. He's too hurt to.

[Francis Bonnefoy]

Francis was left gaping after Arthur in the clearing, a wave of a fierce emotion building up inside him. He couldn't tell whether it was fury, frustration, misery, or hurt; perhaps it was all of those.

It was all he could do to keep himself from chasing after Arthur and...hitting him hard? Embracing him tightly? Francis was torn. So he had to content himself with yelling at Arthur, just letting the words and fervor burst out of him, never mind that Arthur was probably too far away to hear now.

"You fool!" Francis' fists clenched and unclenched, half-wishing he could wrap them around Arthur's neck now. "At least I know how I feel! You have too much of an ego to acknowledge that you even have emotions! And that's much worse, because you're going to destroy the people who care about you as well as yourself!"

He slumped, still standing with Arthur's cloak clutched around him. He suddenly felt very tired, wrung out. His next words were barely audible, even to his ears.

"Come back."

[Cpt. Arthur Kirkland]

Nothing but silence. Arthur really has marched off, leaving Francis to the wilderness of the trees and the owls hooting quietly away in the background, the ashes of the fire still smouldering.

All of a sudden, there is a shout, and gunshots.

If he listens close enough, it sounds horribly familiar to Arthur. Shouting in a mixture of shock and frustration, but still alerted all the same.

Just the right time for a few wolves to get at him. Just his luck. Just his bloody luck.