⋆. 🇫🇷𐙚 ̊࿔ Francis Bonnefoy - Les Fleurs⚜️ ̊⋆

The sun beamed down on the gardens and floral exhibits in southeastern France, more specifically Provence. The wind had calmed down for the rest of the day, giving the atmosphere a calming, serene feel.

This is where both Arthur and Francis stood, walking beside one another in the Jardins Ephrussi de Rothschild, sitting on a hill overlooking the Bay of Villefranche-sur-Mer on the French Riviera. It was quite a long way from Francis’ residence in Paris, yet it was as just as encapsulating and refreshing as the rest of the nation.

Francis walked among the flamboyant display of flowers, smirking.

“I did tell you this garden is magnifique, non~?”

He giggled, the rays of sunlight casting a glow against his pale face and highlighting his blue eyes as they glimmered with a newfound affection glancing over at Arthur.

He inhaled deeply, taking in the wonderful scent of the floral notes that carried the air.

As they continued walking, Francis’ hand gently reached out, brushing against Arthur’s in an attempt to hold onto his hand. He tried again, before mentally cheering as he grabbed onto the other’s hands and obnoxiously intertwined their fingers together.

“Admit it, my country’s sights are way more enticing than your gloomy old buildings, mon chou.”

He teased playfully, breaking the calming silence. Arthur grit his teeth in annoyance as he scoffed. Yet...it was peaceful, even with Francis’ occasional flirty comments and teasing lilts, it almost...added to the experience.