(A/N: oh mon dieu, you guys are so so sweet! Merci beaucoup!! I am spoiling you guys so much with this story though, aren't I? It's alright though, I love you all so much. Thanks again, everyone!!)

The next few weeks were relatively normal. Francis met Alfred and Matthew at a coffee shop on another rainy day with Arthur, and Alfred, being the idiot he is, asked if they were dating. Arthur, being the stubborn prude he is, was quick to deny it, as Francis was in no place to talk.
Arthur had also gotten his first story, and Francis had taken photos for him. It was on the serial killer who had been going around. They had gotten to see the victims and Arthur wanted to beat the shit out of his new undead best friend.
"Francis," Arthur began one night. It had become a habit for Francis just to stay over, "what are we going to do about the police? What if they ever find you?"
"It's not the police I'm worried about," the Frenchman said.
"What are you worried about then?"
"Werewolves. More sirens. But more than any other supernatural being, The Hunters," Francis said, a haunting emptiness and fear in his voice, as if saying those two words terrified him.
Arthur looked up from his book, over to the deadman. "The...Hunters?"
"Oui....th-they....they killed my Jeanne..."
"Jeanne? Who was she?"
"The first woman I ever loved," Francis looked out the window and over the view of New York City at night.
"Can you tell me about her?"
"It was about 6 centuries ago that I met her...." Francis began as Arthur listened intently to his sad story.
"I was a young man. I had just left my home in search of a new life for myself. I had decided to settle down in Paris, the capital of my home country, France. I ended up finding decent work as a baker there...."

~1415~

"Bonjour, Francis~!" The beautiful woman with shining green eyes sang as she entered his shop.
"Bonjour, Jeanne," he smiled from behind his little counter area. Everyday, she'd come in, barring something to shield her from the sun. Every time the young man asked why, she'd simply raise one finger to her lips, a playful gleam in her eyes. Same as when he questioned her pointed canines, which were by far sharper than his own. "So what brings your beautiful self to my humble shop today?" The Frenchman spoke smoothly.
"I would like a loaf of bread, like everyday," she smiled.
"Alright, belle~!" Francis grinned and went to grab the bread he had just made.
"And...Francis, I was curious, would you like to go courting with me?"
"Jeanne, I would love too!" Francis smiled as he gave her the bread.
Later that night, he and Jeanne walked around and talked together. "Jeanne, Je...Je t'aime," Francis blushed.
"Je t'aime aussi, Francis!" Smiled the young woman.
For many weeks Francis and Jeanne would walk together, always smiling and laughing, until Jeanne finally told him her secret, and why they both had roses on their arms. She offered to turn him too so they could always be together, and like the lovestruck fool he was, he said yes.
Then, about 2 centuries later, his best friend betrayed him. "Francis, you have to leave!" His friend, a werewolf by the name of Antonio, shouted to him from the floor up to his window one summer night.
"What?! Why??" He had cried back.
The werewolf sank back. He'd told his pack and the hunters where the vampires were.
"I'm sorry, Francis!" The wolf whined. The vampire had already gone to warn his beloved, so they could escape the wolves and hunters who so desperately wanted to kill two of the most powerful vampires. "Jeanne! Jeanne!" Francis ran through the house they shared, screaming for her. She was no where to be seen. He ran outside, and saw her being dragged through the forest. "Jeanne!!" He screamed, as he ran and scaled trees just to keep up, while the sun began to rise.
Finally, when dawn was just about to break, and they were at the edge of the forest, Jeanne saw him. "Fr-Francis!" She choked out. "Run! Live!!" She screamed. Then, one of the hunters hit her head, while one of the wolves stabbed her heart. Francis heard her scream out in pain, and watched them through her into the sun.
"No!!" Cried the Frenchman. He felt tears prick at his eyes as he ran off. It had been two whole centuries since he last cried, but somehow, he was able to produce tears. And he felt his still, unbeating heart, shatter into millions of pieces after he watched his wonderful, loving Jeanne, who's green eyes never stopped sparkling with curiosity and joy, burn in the bright sun she loved, yet couldn't feel.

~===0{O}0===~

Back in the present, Arthur hugged Francis tightly, tears streaming down both of their faces. "I'm sorry..." He whispered. That was all he could say until he fell asleep. When Arthur finally fell asleep, the vampire kissed his head, and whispered three simple words to his wonderful little Englishman.

"I love you"