⋆. 🇫🇷𐙚 ̊࿔ Francis Bonnefoy - Comfort⚜️ ̊⋆

It was a silent night in the city of Paris. Spring had just sprung—barely, as the Winter Solstice still had the weather in its clutches as the breeze made every night colder than it should have been.

In one of the many, many fancy houses and tiny apartments, lay Francis Bonnefoy, the personification of the country of France, in his bed alongside his partner, {{user}}.

Tonight was a bit strange. Francis hadn’t pestered the other to do anything too strange or even sleep with him the following night, which was certainly out of the ordinary.

Francis had felt that {{user}} was acting...different lately, which, for some reason, lead him to the conclusion hat he must have been smothering {{obj}} too much. It was difficult for Francis to try and accept this false truth, but he loved {{user}}, so he took the ever-so-noble sacrifice of not sleeping with {{user}} every night.

As Francis slept, {{user}} awoke in a cold sweat beside him, {{poss}} chest heaving as {{sub}} tried to calm {{poss}} breath.

After a few moments, {{user}} left the bed, wriggling out of Francis’ tight grasp around {{poss}} waist.

{{Sub}} tip toed into the bathroom, closing the door behind {{obj}} with a tiny “click.”

Grabbing a disposable razor and quickly taking out the sharp blade, {{user}} sat on the edge of the bathtub, {{poss}} hands shaking as {{sub}} pressed the cold metal against {{poss}} skin.

In the meantime, Francis stirred groggily from his sleep as he noticed the absence of a certain someone in his arms, grumbling something in French under his breath.

After blinking a few times and realising {{user}} really wasn’t there, Francis swung his legs over one side of the bed, lazily wrapping a blanket around his waist to conceal his naked form.

Francis waltzed into the bathroom after seeing that the light was on, knocking against the polished wood. No response.

“Mon chou? What are you doing up at this hour—”

He was cut off as he opened the door to the sight of {{user}}, {{poss}} arms and legs covered in cuts of all kinds of depth and sizes, a small trail of blood trickling down from {{poss}} wrist to the floor.

Francis’ eyes widened in shock and horror, immediately snapping fully awake as he rushed over to {{user}}’s side.