FranceXReader Request ~Building You Up~

"You don't love me anymore?"  I asked him once again.  Maybe I had misunderstood him.  The burning in my wrist cared to disagree with me from where he had grabbed me.  
"What do you want me to say?"
"I don't know?"  I thought for a moment, but my mind stayed blank.
"I haven't felt anything for you in a long time," he spoke so plainly.  
"That's fine," I move the last bag into the truck of my car.  I turn back to face my former British lover.  His arms crossed as he stared at the ground.  "I completely understand what you mean,"  I closed my eyes to keep the tears at bay that are willing to break free.  Wincing at the pain in my left eye where his hand had found it's way.  This hadn't been the first time he used his hands to explain his anger.  But I had always forgiven him.  
"I think it's about time you learn to be on your own, (f/n)," he grumbled.  Shifting his weight from foot to foot.
I bite my bottom lip, "I've noticed you have," I open my dewy eyes and watch him stare deep at me.  He had been distant for some quite sometime.  And later and later he came home.   The dead give away of lipstick on his collar.  And the strong smell of perfume filled the bedroom.  The times I would lay in the bed waiting for him to get home.  He quickly threw the evidence into the hamper.    
He clears his throat and outstretches his hand, "the key, lov..." he cuts himself off.  
I pull the key off my keyring and place it gently in his hand.  I move to the driver's side of the car and stare at him as he walks back into the house.  
I sit in the car and stare at the black asphalt of the road.  'Where am I going to go?'  I start the car, driving for what seems like an lifetime into the setting sun.  Arthur and I had been together since I could remember.  Before we even stared to date we were best friends.  
"What the heck?"  The car started to rattle, the head lights growing dimmer and dimmer in the night, I pulled off to the side of the road.  The empty road on the outskirts of town.  I slam the steering wheel, cursing my luck under my breath.  The small pings of rain hitting the roof and the window of the car.    Laying my head down, I cry into the sleeve of my jacket.  Only to have myself drawn way from my moment of self pity to a knocking on the window.
I roll down the window, "yes?"  I wipe the tears from under my eyes.  
"Excusez-moi?"  A set of crystal blue eyes catch the light of this man's headlight.  He holds out the umbrella, shielding himself from the rain.  "Are you okay?"
"Yes,"  I sigh, "no...my stupid car broke down.  I've got nowhere to go...and..."I start to ball again.  "Stupid Arthur!"  I punch the steering wheel as hard as I could, causing the horn to blare loud into the night.  I jump at the sound and groan.  
"Arthur?  (f/n)? Is that vous?"  I look up at the man and realize who it is.  He brushed a bit of blond hair back that fell forward.  "What 're you doing out 'ere in the middle of the night?"
"Francis," I groan.  'It would have to be a acquaintance of Arthur that stumbled upon me.  He'll probably go back and tell the stuffy Brit about how I was crying in the rain for him with my car broken down.'  I think to myself as I stare at him.  
"Nice to see you too, (f/n)," he chuckles as he opened the door.  "I'll take you back to Arthur."  He holds out the umbrella for me as I get out of the car.  
"I..." The last person I wanted to tell was Francis.  "Arthur and me broke up."  I mumble, hoping he heard me, so I wouldn't have to repeat myself.
"You did?  But why ma cerise?"  He seemed concerned as we walk around to the truck of my car.  
"He thought it be better," I roll my eyes, "and he was cheating...so that helps too."
"That's awful!"  He grab the bag from the back and swung it over his shoulder.
"Comes from the man that makes it's his mission to screw as many women as he can,"  I cross my arms, standing back from him.   
He sighs, shaking his head, "there is no need to fight me."
He was right and I cast my eyes to the ground.  "That was harsh, sorry."
"It's fine, (f/n).  What doesn't kill us, makes us stronger."

"Are you sure you don't mind me staying here, Francis?"  I look around his modern apartment.  "I can always get a hotel room."
"The car is on Route 20, before the light,"  he scribbles something on a piece of paper and nods his head, "Merci."  He shut his cell phone and looks me over.  "I wouldn't think of it!"  He gave a warm smile and leaves me standing there.  He walks out from a hallway, holding a few blankets and a pillow.  "I'll take the couch and you can have my bed."
"I couldn't!"  I protest, shaking my head.  "This is your home, Francis."
"It's fine, (f/n).  They are picking your car up tonight and will call when it is done,"  he placed the pillow on the end of the couch and still folded blankets.  
"Thank you,"  I shifted my eyes.  "I...don't have any money to pay you."
"For the car?"  He sits down and motions over to the chair across from him.  
"Yes,"  I sigh, "Arthur never excepted me to work." I laugh, nervously.  "He said he always be there to support me,"  I look down at my socked feet.  "I feel so silly."
"There is no need to feel 'silly',"  Francis leaned his head back and looks at the ceiling.  "Arthur can be very stupid and I take it he gave you that shiner?"  He looks back at me, "you may stay as long as you like."
"I can't do that Francis,"  looking around at his posh surroundings, "I don't want to chase you from your bed." I move my hand to the side of my face and cover the purple mark from his gaze.
"Non, I have a spare bedroom," he shifts his weight to find a comfortable position, "I will get another bed tomorrow."
"I really can't..."
"Arreter!  You will be my guest!"  He huffed, "you can be very difficult!"
"Then I'll find a job tomorrow,"  I smile, "it's about time I start to stand on my own."
"You remember Lovino Vargas?"  
"Yes," I nod, remembering the cute Italian with a bad temper.
"He has opened a flower shop in town, Antonio was telling me about it earlier.  He'll need someone to help with it."  He gave a half smile, "and we both know he is not the easiest person to get along with; he'll need all the help he can get."  
"Then tomorrow I'll go down there,"  I grin.  My heart still felt like a knife hung in it, but at least this grey cloud might have a silver lining.  

"Thank you so much, Lovino!"  I smile, hugging the wincing man.  He acted as if I was on fire with my touch.  
"You're-a welcome, (f/n)," he pushes me off.  "You know I would-a help you out."
I walk out from the back and meet Francis who had been kind enough to bring me into town.  He walks up holding a simple bouquet of pink roses.  "I see by the smile on your face (f/n), you got the job."
"I did,"  I smile, "this will be exciting!"
He laughs carrying the bouquet to the register, "I'll take these, Lovi."  He pulls out his wallet and thumb threw the money.
"It's Lovino to you frog breath,"  he looks over at me, "and don't you get the wise idea to be calling me-a that either!"  He points his finger in a matter-of-fact way.  Lovino grabs the money and shoves it in the register.  "I'll see you tomorrow at eight,(f/n)."  He waves his hand to shoo us out the door.  
"Thank you Francis,"  I was overly excited.
"Are you hungry?"  Francis asked, holding the door open to restaurant next door to Lovino's Flower Shop.  I scanned the name on the window, sucking in a deep breath.  'This was were Arthur liked to have lunch during his break at work.'  I thought to myself, knowing it was close to noon and he could possibly be in there.  "(f/n)?"
I snapped back from my thought, "Arthur..."
"What about him?"  Francis tossed his hands on his hips.  "Come on," he pulls my hand, leading me into the restaurant.  "If he is here, he is!  Just show him you can move on too!"
'Move on?' His words rang in my head.  
"Okay," I whispered as he pulled out a chair for me.  I hadn't had someone pull a chair out for me in so long.  Arthur used to all the time, but then one day he stopped.  
"You wait right here," he leaned on the table, "I'll get us something to eat and drink."  
I looked around at the familiar surrounding, holding my hands in my lap.  The bell above the door rang and my heart dropped.  I didn't need to turn to know who had just walk threw the door.  I kept my back turn, only hoping that he won't see me.  I waited for what seemed like a lifetime for Francis to get back, but it only had been minutes.  He placed a tray with two sandwiches and two cups of coffee in front of me.  
"I hope you don't mind this (f/n)," Francis said, drawing my attention from my hands.
"This is fine," I mumble and grab the plate off the tray.  "Thank you."
"Francis?"  An all to familiar voice asked.  I look up to the blond who took a small bit of the sandwich and place it back on his plate.  
"Bonjour Arthur,"  Francis raise his eyes.  I could feel no love loss between the two.
"What are you doing here?  Arthur stood in front of the table.  
"I took (f/n) out,"  I watch his lips form into a smile.
My stomach clenched at his words.  Moving my eyes down I stare at the coffee in front of me.  'Please go!' I screamed in my head.
"Didn't take you long?"  Arthur scoffed, crossing his arms.  I could feel daggers cut my skin as he looked at me.  
"Arthur,"  Francis raises a hand to stop him from going any farther, "we are trying to enjoy a nice lunch.  Au revoir."
He gave a disappointed sigh and carefully maneuvered threw the tables and chairs.  I stare at the blond man that focused on his coffee now.  He didn't seem to care that he had sent his so-called friend away upset.  
"This coffee is bitter,"  he sip a bit more, "sugar doesn't seem to help."  He shrugs his shoulders and leans back.  
"Thank you again,"  I lean back in the chair too.  "I just feel alone."
"It will get easier (f/n)," he sits the mug back down, "You can be alone and not lonely, amor."  


"(f/n)!"  Francis sang from the front door, slamming the door shut.  "I am home!"
"Hello,"  I walked from the kitchen, drying my hands on a towel.  
"I got you these,"  he held a bouquet of yellow roses.  
I giggle and look around the room with ten more bouquet of flowers, "more flowers?"  I take them from his hand and take in the sweet scent.  
"They aren't as pretty as you,"  he grins and moves a bit of my (h/c) hair from my face and carefully places it behind my ear.  Resting his hand on my cheek, leaning close to my face.  
"Francis,"  I sat the roses on the table, "I don't think..."
"I can wait, amor," he removes his hand slowly.  "Something smells wonderful."
"I made dinner."  I wanted to be ready.  And I tried, but it had only been a month.  And to my surprise Francis had been kind and generous.  Including listening to me and slowly helping me threw things at a careful pace.  I found myself falling for him.  But with the reputation that he had, I was slow on the take to let myself fall for him completely.
"That's wonderful," he smiles, "then I'll get the wine."  He leaned into the fridge, but came out empty handed.  "Did you forget to pick it up when I asked?"  He tsked, crossing his arms.
"I did,"  I panicked.  "I forgot to stop by the liquor store."
He walks up on me, I pin myself against the sink.  I watched him carefully as he leaned over me, reaching into the cardboard above my head.  I closed my eyes, drawing in a deep breath.  I waited for the blow to come to my face.  Arthur hadn't mind to tell when I made I mistake like that.  I winced as his hand rested on my shoulder.  
"(f/n)?  What is wrong?"  
I opened an eye and looked up to him.  He held a bottle of white wine in his hand and quizzical look on his face.  
"I thought you were going to..." I gave a sigh of relief when I knew he wasn't angry, "hit me."
"Hit you?"  He knitted his eyebrows together.  "For wine?  I do prefer red, but white will do too."
"Just being stupid I guess."
"What has Arthur done to you?"  He brushed the hair that fallen forward on my face back again.  "He has tried to break you."  He growls, "we've got to rebuild you, (f/n)."


I smiled looking at the clock on the wall.  I had been working with Lovino for about five month now.  I had also found myself very comfortable living with Francis.  And had manged to avoid Arthur for the last few months,which was a blessing in my eyes.  Even if I had found myself moving slowly on, simple things remind me of him.  But everyday I moved forward.  
"Why are you-a so happy today, (f/n)?" Lovino looked up from his vase full of daisies.
"No reason,"  I hummed finishing the last order.  "Just Francis promised me something exciting tonight."
Lovino raised an eyebrow, "Froggie has something special for you?"  
"Don't call him Froggie, Lovi,"  I giggled, untying my apron.  
He grunted and waved goodbye to me as I pulled my jacket from the wall peg.  I walked out of the flower shop and took a deep breath.  
"(f/n)!"  I stopped in my tracks to the smooth English voice that flowed threw the air.  
"Arthur?"  I pivoted on my heel and watched him quickly move towards me.  
"I was hoping to catch you," he smiled, "I wanted to talk to you about something."
"What," I asked, pulling my keys from my jacket pocket.  "I've gotta go."
"I wanted to see if you'd come back?"  He seemed overly confident in his question.  
"I've moved on, Arthur."  I realized the words that I just said and I had said it to the one person I never thought I could.  
"Moved on?"  Arthur's mouth hung agape.  
"Goodbye Arthur," I opened the door to my car and pulled from the parking lot.  

"Francis?"  I called from the front door.  "Are you home?"  
"Oui," he walked from the bedroom.  "How was your day?"
"It was good,"  I smile, removing my jacket and sitting it on the back of the chair.  "I saw Arthur."
"And?"
"And it was okay," I bit my bottom lip, "I told him I moved on."
"And?"  He grinned.
"And," I walk to the blue eyed man who was watching my movements, "and I feel good about that."  I wrapped my arms around his waist, laying my head on his chest.  "Thank you."