"It was good to see you again, Arthur." You said waving at your old pirate friend. Arthur waved at you before the door closed. You sighed. Man, Arthur has changed a lot. You walked along the streets of Britain, deep in thought. Gray clouds loomed overhead and thunder could be heard in the distance. You stopped in your tracks “Hmm” People ran inside when it started raining, a heavy sheet. "Damnation!" You cursed, shielding your head and starting to run. You continued running and, without looking, you bumped into a man. “Oh, I’m sorry,” you said at his feet, embarrassed. “Oh no, it's okay, Mon Cher.” He's French. towards man. So beautiful. Her blonde hair drenched in wet curls, the dark shade bringing out the blue of her eyes. A blush warms his pale cheeks as he stares at your revealing clothes. at your hips. He took a step closer, leaning into your face, “You’re soaked, why not take shelter?” He turned his body to the side and held out his hand, with high hopes that you would grab his hand in the air, waving it back and forth, “No, it's okay, I have to get home. I have work to do.” His face was sad. "I understand." He looked away from meeting you." He turned to you, puppy dog ​​eyes, "Why don't you stay with me for a little longer?" "Huh?" you said as you stared at him in surprise. You met the his gaze and you held him. He quickly snatched your hand from your hip and kissed it. You blush and try to pull away. “We’re getting wet. We shouldn't stay here or we'll get sick." You inform him as his lips remain attached to your hand. He straightened up and started walking with you, still holding your hand. He grabbed your hand tightly. What's up... middle of paper ...I'm thinking of Joan. Your hand left his face. “I have to go now, Francis.” You didn't want to tell him, but you had to. The wind rose again, louder this time , your rose flew away unconsciously and landed on the windowsill. As you were about to go down the stairs, you were there, debating whether to go back or not. You would never felt the feeling of losing a lover, but by staying with France, you started to understand Francis loved Joan more than anything, and falling in love again would only hurt him more, you hoped soon you would find someone as loving as France and have a bond like the one he had with Joan. You walked down the stairs, looking up to take in the scenery you may never see again.