He was walking down in the park one evening. Just going back to his hotel for the night. Francis figured running away from fangirls in an abandoned was alright ( crazy animals.) The blonde man sighed as he hid behind a tree, the last of his fans ran past him.
'Now i can go home safely' he thought.
The sun was just setting, giving the park a dark feeling.
Francis shivered, he heard no birds or insects. It was eerily silent. Francis quickened his pace a bit, he was pretty sure he saw a shadow behind him..
Francis ran passed a broken slide. He didn't think anything was wrong with it, until he noticed a black figure next to it.
His light blue eyes widened.
Francis crouched down eye level to the boy.
He looked bloody and beaten. Francis hurriedly checked his pulse.
"Ce n'est pas bon..!" He panicked in French.
Francis breathed in relief when he found that the boy had a pulse.
He felt his face and neck. It was freezing! Francis quickly took off his purple designer jacket and wrapped it around the unconcious blond. Francis picked the boy up in his arms, he pressed the boys face into his chest to keep him warm.
"Fuck! Stay with me plaire.*"
Francis thanked God his hotel was nearby, just 2 blocks away.
The hospital was too far..
"There it is!" The tall Holiday Inn showed up in his sight.
The blonde boy shivered "Hang on.." Francis whispered. He flung the glass door open. He ran to the front desk. " Key!" The black haired lady blushed "Y-Your-" "Key damnit!"
The lady fumbled with the computer"N-name?"
"Francis Bonnefoy" Francis was loosing his patience like water running down the drain.
"H-here..have a good night." her manicured fingers lingering a bit longer than nesscary on Francis' hand. But Francis didn't give 2 flying shits, he grabbed the key and dashed to the elevator that was conviently opened.
3 more floors to wait..

Green eyes opened softly, focusing slowly. Arthur's head hurt like shit, as did his body. But as he looked closer, he noticed that all his cuts and bruises were bandaged and that he was wearing clean clothes.
"What.." Arthur squeezed his eyes shut and fell back on the bed, he groaned in pain as he tried to get up. He heard footsteps.
"Mon dieu!* Are you ok?" An unfamiliar face blocked his line of sight.
Arthur groaned again when he sat up. "Don't stress yourself, mon cher*." The French said, genuinely concerned.
"..Why would you care?"
Francis smiled softly, sighing a bit. "I don't want you to get hurt more than you should."
Arthur looked down at his hands."Liar."
Blue eyes blinked."Excusez-moi?*"
"Noone cares if i get hurt."
Francis crossed his arms "I obviously do since i brought you here."
Arthur looked at him."If i didn't," Francis frowned "You would've died cheri*"
"Before we say anything else, Im Francis and you are?"
"Wonderful. Arthur, are you hungry?" Francis asked standing up.
"Um yes but i couldn't..-" "-Don't worry about it, I brought you here, its only natural I feed you.", Francis winked at him.
Arthur glared and crossed his arms "Then it better be good.."
The curly haired blonde chuckled "Of course." and walked into the kitchen.

Arthur didn't know what to think. Francis saved him, he was going to feed him! Noone's ever done that. The only people who were ever nice was his mummy and Alfred. But his mother was long gone and Alfred..Alfred didn't like him anymore. Arthur has noone. Except his brothers but they're assholes and are only alive to make Arthur's life an even more living hell then it already is. Arthur gripped the sheets. "Fuck.." he said quietly. What was there to live for? There was absoulutely nothing for him. Everyone for some reason, hated him.
Was it because he was British? A bad cook? No it was more than that..much more..

Arthur sat there for a couple more minuets, just sinking into his awful memories, which make up most of his 'so called' life. His eyes wandered from where his hands were fisted in the blanket to where a black remote. Arthur looked around. Surely he won't mind...

Francis smiled to himself as he cooked food for his 'guest'. He was chopping carrots and broccoli. Francis noticed the boys wieght, it was unhealthy. The blonde took the juicy steak out of a pan and placed it on a plate along with some mashed potatoes. He found some basil, pepper and salt. Francis sprinkled some salt and pepper on the potaoes, placing basil on it as well.
He took a bit of mushrooms in some type of brown sauce and poured it on the steak. As he looked for a glass he wondered who could've beaten this boy so badly, or why they would want to. Francis filled the cup with water. He placed the food on a table. "Arthur food is ready!"
No reponse.
"Arthur?" Francis cleaned his hands on a paper towel. He walked to his bedroom, where Arthur was.
There he was, knocked out on the bed again, remote clutched to his chest. The T.v. was on, Doctor Who or some sort of British show.
"Mmm..Oh Mister Mint bunny! That tickles.." Arthur mumbled. Francis stifled his laughter behind his hand. He leaned closer, to hear better. " Captain Hook, you know..Tinkerbell is not big enough!.." 'Not big enough for what?' Francis thought pervertedly.
Arthur stirred a bit. Eyes opening again. "F-Francis..?" Arthur stretched when Francis backed away.
"Oui*, Your food is ready."