#'til death do us part indeed sorry toni :') | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

helianskies · 3 years

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2 and 17 wips look pretty interesting to me (of course there are many others... But I'm trying to restrain myself here ahahah)

self-restraint? never heard of her! *ahem* i'll kick this off then with numero 2, which is a... fun selection ;)

(check out my response for numero 17 over here!)

2. uni mates reunion but there's a twist

Arthur was nervous—uncharacteristically so. It had been, what, six, seven years since they had all been together? And sure, he had been the one to approach them all and ask, 'hey, fancy having a group reunion and meeting up?' because apparently he was insane, now! He'd lost his mind over the past few years!

Ever the optimist, he told himself as he watched the train he'd taken all the from East to West depart from the station and continue on its journey. It had taken a lot (of tea, and beer) for him to psych himself up to go ahead with this plan but, as he'd reasoned with himself for the past month and at that very moment: they agreed to this, so they clearly want to do this, too. He told himself the same thing over and over as he left the train station, found the right bus to the right side of the city centre, and continued the next short leg of his trip.

It was strange to be back here. It was the very city that the four of them—Arthur, Francis, Antonio and Gilbert—had studied in together, where they had forged their friendship and what they had once considered an unbreakable bond. That bond would have remained, had it not been for Arthur…

That was too depressing a thought, however, and something he feared would ruin the mood and send him running for the hills. It was something he didn’t want to come up in conversation, and would certainly avoid himself; he’d been thought of as crazy back then, and it would do him no favours if that perception was reinstated. He remained surprised that they had seriously agreed…

Of course, that was far from the only surprise he’d received recently. Getting in touch with the infamous trio had revealed that Francis and Antonio had gotten back together after graduation (despite how messily it had ended the second time), and now ran a small bakery with a smaller coffee shop attached, and in the meantime, Gilbert had a ‘sensible’ R&D job for some big European business (though he fortunately worked in London, so he’d have had a similar journey to Arthur).

They were doing well for themselves, in essence, compared to Arthur, who… was coasting, floating between jobs, still trying to find something he liked or was good at…

A life of bad luck, that was what Arthur had. If it wasn’t a car accident whilst at university (Antonio had been there, too), or work keeping him away from his family (he hadn’t seen them for months), or his flat going up in flames (granted, with two other units, in a severe case of bad wiring), then it was smaller things: sudden illness, scratches on his car, losing his bank card—it was never-ending!

Before he knew it, nevertheless, he was at his stop. He stood from his seat, let the passengers who had been sitting behind him on the bus pass and leave first, then continued off himself, thanking the driver as he went. Welcome back to the best years of your life! God, it had been so, so long since he'd been here…

Google Maps took over the navigation for him for the next five minutes. He found himself walking along main roads along with clumps of people—locals and potential tourists down for the weekend—and turning down a few streets towards the harbour, until, at last: La Belle Affaire. An interesting name that Arthur had a feeling would have taken some serious arguing over. Francis would be happy to have it in French, at least!

Being careful as he crossed the road (the lack of a crossing was not so great) Arthur headed straight for the establishment. It seemed relatively busy. Which was good for them, he supposed, but it only made him feel more nervous, hands becoming clammy and stomach threatening to erupt like Vesuvius. This was definitely a mistake, he told himself as he averted his eyes from the bakery he now stood in the window of in favour of burying his face in his phone, checking the group messages in case he'd hallucinated the entire agreeme—

Nope, there it was in blue and white, a message that morning from Francis: 'Safe journey @arthur and @Gilbert, we'll have something special just for you when you arrive!'. Definitely not a hallucination. Definitely still a mistake.

Why did he do this sort of crap to himself?

"'Cause I'm a glutton for punishm—"

There was a sudden knocking behind him, someone banging gently on the glass, and Arthur very nearly dropped his phone. He simply lost his breath instead. Whilst he tried to recover it, along with his composure, he turned to see Gilbert in the window, who, when he realised he'd finally been noticed, gave a great big grin and an enthusiastic wave, before jabbing a finger violently in the direction of outside. Or was it Arthur? It was a bit hard to te—

"Arthur!"

He lost his breath again. But this time, it had been squeezed from him like juice from a lemon, the result of a fierce hug. Antonio! It took a few seconds for Arthur to reciprocate (and even then, it was a struggle—a half-hearted nerve-ridden gesture) and then, before he thankfully had to ask, Antonio pulled away and smiled with the same sunshine and sparkle as he had possessed all those years ago.

"It's so good to see you," the brunette remarked, "I was worried I wouldn't recognise you, but you haven't changed a bit!"

Arthur gave a meek laugh. "'S that a good or bad thing?" He didn't personally think it brilliant, but then, Antonio hadn't changed at all—baby-faced and mop-headed as he always had been—either, and Gilbert, based on quick glance, seemed to be a similar story…

"Nooo, I think that's good!" Antonio assured him. "Makes me feel younger that way. Fran swears he found a grey hair the other day and you won't believe the panic it put him in!"

That made Arthur scoff. "Oh, no, trust me: I can believe it," he said. "Go on, does he still have his skincare regime? With the mask things and big hair band?"

"God, yeah! It's a strict routine and I don't think he's ever skipped a day," Antonio replied with a soft laugh that went replicated. "He's a creature of habit for sure, but hey, you'll agree with me when you see him: the man should be in front of the cameras, not selling bread here with me!"

"Oi, losers, ya coming inside or what?"

Both of them turned to Gilbert who hung in the doorway of the bakery. Blocking some customers trying to leave at the same time, too, bless him—the minor public nuisance they all knew and loved. He hadn’t changed much either, it seemed. That was reassuring. That would just leave—

“Francis should be back in a minute, so we can wait outside for him,” Antonio suggested, though the wave he gave as well was a clear gesture for Gilbert to get out of the way of other people—a passive way to get him to move without dragging him, Arthur supposed. Antonio then looked to the blonde: “He had to run a quick errand just around the corner and wanted to do it before you showed up. I told him to wait, but you know what he’s like: a perfectionist to the end!”

Nope, Francis hadn’t changed, either. Good, good...

“Glad to know Fran’s still Fran,” Gilbert chuckled. “Does he still spend ages on his hair and do the whole face routine thing?”

“That’s what I asked!”

“Stop bullying him when he can’t defend himself,” Antonio chided (albeit, light-heartedly), rolling his eyes about his head. “I’ll bet you two are just like you were back then, too!”

Gilbert and Arthur shared a look in that moment—one that said ‘well maybe, but let’s not give him the satisfaction’ as their faces scrunched up and they shook their heads. Antonio was successfully silenced. For about… three seconds.

“See?” he said. “You’re still as insufferable!”

“Uhh, that’s a bit fucking rude!”

“I mean… he’s not technically wrong, Gil.”

“W-Well, no! But there’s no need to point it out!”

“Oh, I felt every need,” the brunette said, suddenly looking like the cat who got the cream, “he’s my husband, poor guy, and I take my vows to defend him very seriously!”

Gilbert scoffed as Arthur found himself surprised by yet another thing (when did they actually get married? I didn’t see that on Facebook, I had no idea, I thought they were just 'partners'—) as he took note of a thin gold band that had materialised on a tanned finger, and as Antonio’s attention was stolen by something across the street and he smiled (and maybe even waved), and then as Gilbert began to say, ‘Yeah, ‘til death do you part!’ but then also as everything was interrupted with a screech, a handful of screams, a thud, and white noise.

Arthur had no idea what had happened in that soul-splintering moment. He saw everything in slow motion, it seemed—the way Antonio’s face gradually shifted from joy to horror, or how Gilbert turned and gained a similar expression, or the people who appeared in the bakery window, or the others who started to run to the area, or the car that raced on down the road—and it was only as he turned himself to face the crossing-less street that he saw—

“Francis!”

Antonio ran. Gilbert followed. Arthur stood there on the pavement, slowly paling, feeling sick, telling himself: you brought your bad luck with you, you should have never suggested this! He wanted to run away, almost, but what good would it do? He wanted to help, but what good would it do? He watched as the crowd formed and swarmed—as Antonio pushed through, screaming, shouting, begging—but he knew it was for nothing.

Because standing on the other side of the road was Francis, looking confused and unnerved, a small bag of shopping in his hand. And Arthur—I’m so sorry, Fran—was the only one who could see him.

︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ .*

dun dun duuuuun!

since you've also asked for numero 17, i'll post it separately once it's finished and then link both posts together - just so no one's kept waiting! thanks for the request (and for the actual suggestion to do this heheh) <3

#helia answers #hws england #hws spain #hws prussia #hws france #yeah so arthur can see ghosts that's like the whole point #that's it that's the story #ripperoni in pepperoni to francis but the irony was too good to pass up #'til death do us part indeed sorry toni :')

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