(WARNING: an attack on your feels is about to be launched!)

"Hello?" Arthur said as he answered his phone at home on the couch.
"Bonjour," Francis said. He was calling to apologize over the fight they had and for driving away instead of speaking to him.
"No. I don't want to talk to you, you goddamn bloody frog!" Arthur shouted into the phone.
"But Arthur, I-"
"No! You are the worst thing that ever happened to me!"
"Arthur, just list-"
"Stop! Ok! I don't want to hear it. I just don't want to hear that you love me and you're sorry, because you're not. You always do this to me. Always!" By now Arthur was close to tears.
"I don't hate you!"
"You always say that."
"Arthur...do you hate me?"
"Yes. I really hate you right now."
"Arthur...I'm sor-"
"No. I hate you-"
Arthur was cut off mid-sentence by the sound of tires screeching and Francis screaming. "Francis?! Francis!!!!" He cried. Then he heard it. A crash. A sickening crash and a crunch. "Francis, no!!" Then the line went dead. Arthur immediately called 911 to report the crash.

Four hours later, his beloved Frenchman was dead. The last words he'd ever said to him rang loud and clear in his head. "No. I hate you." "I really hate you right now." Francis died believing that Arthur hated him, when in truth, he loved the Frenchman more than anyone else in the entire world. But now he was gone. And he'd never be there ever again. Ever.