door ~scotchietape19
Arthur fell to his knees out of breath. He looked up at the Frenchmen that stood above him, a dull silver gun pointed to his head, raindrops plinking on the cold metal and stinging his eyes. He couldn't help but smile weakly. "After all these years..I thought that u would be the one on his knees begging for mercy, Francis..." England tried to reach for his gun but stopped - what was the point? 'I'm going to die anyway...' the thought as an old memory began to play in the back of his mind.
It was a warm spring dag and Francis was about to give up on Arthur - he was a hopeless...
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