His girl friend was perfect. She had gorgeous emerald eyes that lit up whenever he came near, or when talking about something she loved (it was usually him or tomatoes~). Her hair was long, the color of tree bark. One time, it had actually gotten tangled on a tree branch and had to be mostly cut off! He'd taken it in stride, though, and assured her that she still looked as hot as ever. Francis liked her hands the most—besides her large breasts, those always came in first place—hardened and scarred by years of farming tomatoes on her plantation. Yet, as he them or ran his thumb over the palms, they made his own baby-soft skin heat up and tingle. He'd smile to himself for a while after holding Antonia's hands...
But the girl was an idiot! A "can't read the atmosphere for her life" idiot! Francis had always thought that should he actually try to be serious about somebody, that they at least know what's going on. Antonia remained as clueless and lost as ever, unfortunately, and the Frenchman was starting to get frustrated. Or, more like he was about to explode. Just yesterday he'd had to beat her ex-boyfriend, Lovino, off ("How dare he hit on what is mine!"). The broad hadn't had the faintest idea of what was going on. She'd just smiled goofily and pointed at Lovino, who had cornered her against the wall and was whispering "Besame" into her ear, and said, "Look Franny! Lovi decided to visit us~" Lovi got his butt kicked.
That hadn't been a rare case. Another time, Antonia had left their apartment complex singing at the top of her lungs in Spanish to get the mail. For 20 minutes he waited for her, getting more and more worried with the ticking noises of the clock. When he went out to look for her, half crazed, he found her chatting pleasantly with her ex-husband (yes, HUSBAND). They were both leaning on the townhouse mailboxes, lips moving. Roderich Edelstein looked positively snobbish, as per usual, but his lips were twitching up dangerously (Let us just take a moment to shiver at "Antonia Edelstein"). When that straitlaced old coot smiled, nothing good could come of it! Francis beat Roderich's prissy pants UP, even if he was his best friend's boyfriend...
But maybe Francis was just being paranoid, that time.
One day, it just so happened that he'd been arguing with Arthur, Antonia somewhere nearby. Arthur had slammed his fist on a wall, yelling at him angrily, green eyes fired up and thick eyebrows knit together. Threats flew out of his mouth a mile a minute, but the Frenchman simply laughed at his British "friend", paying no mind to his shouts and throwing in some insults of his own. Maybe it was how gory and R-rated the threats were—he still doesn't know to this day—or how serious they must have sounded to outsider ears, but Antonia (dear, sweet, Antonia) pulled her old battleaxe off the wall and ran at Arthur, screaming bloody murder in Spanish while swinging it around in an all serious murder intent.
That day had ended with reluctant apologizing and the Briton's eyebrows getting trimmed down to almost nothing, but Francis realized something. Something important. Antonia Fernandez Carriedo wasn't as dumb as he'd originally thought!
She DID fall in love with HIM, after all.
End.