AN - Hey! This is my first proper fic, it should be updated every few days, so bear with me! I have the first few chapters already written, but I'm in school so they might be a bit sporadic. Some angst, lots of romance, many innuendoes and the like. Contains bad language!
Francis squirmed around uncomfortably, feeling strangely cold. Still wrapped in the tatters of day dreams, he turned around to face-
No-one.
With a frown, Francis sat up, propping himself against the heavy pillows. Where was Matthew? Surely he hadn't left yet? He'd only stayed for a night, and Francis couldn't smell the tantalising wafts of pancakes drenched in maple syrup from the kitchen that usually explained the younger nation's absence.
"Mon cher?" he called out softly, "Where are you 'iding, Mattie? I promise, I really am looking, you aren't invisible to me, you know..."
Slowly, he eased himself out of bed, clenching his teeth as a rush of cold air assaulted his (beautiful, naked) legs, causing goosebumps to ripple up them.
"Matt-ieeee..."
There was no shower running, no lock on the toilet door (not that the lock actually worked, but Matthew didn't know that; Naive little Canada, Francis thought fondly) and no rumpled covers in the spare bedroom (Why, Francis pondered, Mattie would be in there, I will never know. Only the stodgy git England slept in there and then he had only recently began that)
Eventually, when Francis had looked all over his house and nearly given up on finding Matthew, he spotted a familiar head of blonde hair just poking over the top of a bush in his garden.
Smiling, Francis sauntered over to the younger nation, who sat on the grass, playing with Kumaj – Kumajo – Kumaju – that polar bear thing. Sitting down beside him (completely naked) Francis looked up at the dawn sky, the reds and golds of the sunrise already having given way to the fresh blues; the day was going to be a scorcher.
"Took you long enough to find me, eh?" Matthew said after a spell of silence, his soft voice breaking Francis out of his peaceful daydream. Confused at the strangely hostile tone, he looked up at Matthew, whose violet eyes were dark behind those wire frames.
"Well, I did not expect you to be in the garden, did I?" Francis said carefully, unused to what was obviously anger in the usually calm Canadian, "Usually you would be in the kitchen, I know you simply adore those pancakes in the morning, mon petit cher." Matthew didn't meet his gaze.
"I don't think I wanna be your 'petit cher' any more, France."
Francis gaped very unattractively. Mattie never called him France; they'd been on human name terms for-
"years since we met. And you still flirt with the other guys, even now we're together. You tried to touch up England, for God's sake. I just wish you would pay more attention to me for once, outside. Not just here, or at my house."
Matthew moved to get up, but Francis held a hand on his thigh, preventing him from leaving.
"You're not... leaving... Are you?" he muttered, blue eyes downcast.
Matthew took a rattling breath in, and Francis noticed again that his eyes were dark, only this time with tears.
"That's just the thing. You act so lovely, like you want me here, but as soon as we go out, you immediately turn into Mr Flirt again. Can't you just... tone down the France a little bit sometimes? I just... fine. Yes." Matthew smiled a small, sad smile that damn near broke Francis' heart.
"I'm leaving. Please just... Give me some time, OK? But don't come and find me this time. I'll find you."
Francis began to cry, tiny, salty tears that left streaks down his pale cheeks.
"Promise?" he said in a voice that only Matthew would ever be able to hear.
Matthew sighed. Those eyes? He couldn't... He had to be strong. He wouldn't be a pushover any more.
"Yeah. Promise." Without another word, he turned and left, leaving Francis sat alone in the grass, surrounded by the falling pink petals of the rose bush.
It was as if there had never been anyone else there at all.
AN - Me again! Please R&R, I want to know what you think!