Hello !

This is the first time I try to write something in English...

Well, actually I translated something I wrote in French... and it was a fuckin' pain in the arse orz

But I did it because I want to be able to write a full fanfiction in English one day... so I have to train ! o/ (because I like writing looooong paragraphs... but my English vocabulary isn't enough to allow me to do that yet orz [actually in French I have a pretty formal writting language; people tend to say that I speak like an old woman *sob*])

So... it's just a little FrUK thing.

I hope you'll enjoy it ^ω^


Sad Valentine

"Just how much time do you plan to harass me, damn frog?" Arthur hissed.

France cried out, indignant.

"You say that, but if I stop coming, admit you would miss it. And you don't have anything to do today either, pas vrai?"

The English became bright red and tried to hit the French who dodged, laughing.

"As if! You are daydreaming idiot! I could have other plans, for all you know."

He was expecting sarcasm from the other, but Francis just lowered his head, shamefaced.

"I see… so, you've met someone?"

Disconcerted by the French's attitude, Arthur didn't take time to think before saying, still red:

"Exactly! And we planned to meet each other tonight."

He had the impression of having engraved on his forehead that he was lying; Francis would probably figure it out and laugh at him…

"Oh… then I'm no longer going to disturb you. You should start getting ready for your date… Sorry to have bothered you…"

Without letting the time for the English to react, France got up and left. Arthur stayed still several seconds, stunned. What did that mean? Since when did Francis give up that easily? And more important; what was he going to do tonight?

Since… few decades ‒ he forgot the exact number ‒, every Valentine's Day, the French came over uninvitedto his house around eleven o'clock. Without asking him, he seized his kitchen and cooked the lunch. During which he declared his love, asking Arthur to go out with him. Then the English rejected him; next they watched DVDs or played some board game during the afternoon. And so, at five o'clock they drank tea fireside; before going out at night, to a restaurant or to the cinema. After which Francis went home, but not without taking Arthur home and stealing him a quick kiss, launching a joyful "À l'année prochaine" before leaving.

Bloody hell, since when did he become used to that? Since when did he start to find it normal in the first place?

He sighs. He was idiot. Like every year, he managed to have his day off… and Francis was gone. At only six o'clock.

Well, there was probably work he could speed up. He had better to do than over thinking about the French's attitude anyway.

But he couldn't refrain from taking a last look to his front door. Maybe it wasn't too late. Maybe… maybe he still had a chance to catch up Francis…?


So... I hope you liked it

If you do (or even if you don't) don't hesitate to tell me why by leaving a comment ^ω^

Also, if you saw any mistake, don't hesitate and tell me