Sounds of gunfire crackled behind the sheets of ash and smoke. Shot down planes fell from the sky one by one tearing through the clouds making the scarlet sunrise visible. It was during WW2 and the Germans were attacking the streets of England stronger than ever.

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It was a rainy day on the streets of London, Arthur watched the bright sirens as they whirred before finally disappearing behind the corner of the street. He held his head in his hands and cleared his thoughts. After becoming 'immobilized' behind lines he was sent home to recover but through all his protests he wasn't allowed back for another week.

Now he was stuck in these suffocating streets feeling the pain of his citizens writhing in fear and breathing in the toxic gases and ash released into the atmosphere. His vision blurred, tears pricking in his eyes as he thought about it a stabbing feeling in his gut and the sound of explosions somewhere in his country. Arthur suddenly landed on his knees the rainwater splashing him when disturbed. Arthur stared at his scratched, rough hands a lightheaded feeling overcame him.

The last thing he recalled was the delicate hands of a woman perhaps a nurse.

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He opened his eyes to be welcomed with a blinding light, Francis realising his guest was squinting, quickly closed the blinds. "Welcome mon ami you look a mess". Arthur recognised the accent and groaned, he replied sourly;

"good to see you too frog" England concealed the smile bubbling up to the surface, for the past month he was wondering whether he was okay barely sleeping as the anticipation ate away at him

Somehow France saw right through him and moved closer to England sitting next to him on the bed and bringing his soft hands to Arthur's chin. He brought his face to his own smirking as a rose blush crept across Arthur's face. slowly he released him and walked out of the room turning on his heel to blow one final kiss in England's direction.

The only way Arthur could respond was to burrow further into his sheets.