"Je t'aime, Papa!" the little Canadian on his lap would say with a serious look on his chubby face.

"Je t'aime aussi, Mathieu, merci." the Frenchman answered the boy with an amused smile and a slightly surprised face.

The boy frowned and pouted, his cheeks red as he talked: "Non, I mean for real! You don't love me as you love England!"

The words were pronounced almost like a little whine that confused the French.

He lifted the boy's chin and turned his face that was currently looking down and away from him. The man smiled at the other adorable expression.

"Listen. I love you more than anything else in the world, never doubt of it. One day my love for Angleterre will fade, but I will always love mon petite souris." he said before kissing the smaller on his cheeks making him squeak sightly, then chuckling at the adorable sight of his son that was now looking at him almost incredulous, face red.

"You will?" he asked.

"Oui." the other answered.

"It's a promise?"

"Oui."

"Then... Then you will marry me!" the child exclaimed, making the taller man stare at him with his mouth gaped open.

"What?" he asked. The little Canadian didn't blush this time in favour of keeping a serious expression on his face.

"Alfred asked the same to Arthur and he said yes! I... I want you to marry me too!" he sighed sadly, and France felt his heart be ripped apart at the sight. If there was something he absolutely hated it was to see his beloved son crying. Even worse if he was the one that made him cry. He hugged the sobbing future nation and stroked his back to calm him down.

''Mathieu, don't cry... I... I will marry you." he murmured to stop the other's crying. It seemed to work since the tears stopped flowing down from the boy's eyes and the sobbing reduced in a soft sighing.

"R-really?" the blonde child asked unsure.

"Oui."

"It's... A promise?"

"Oui."

Years later the little Canada was no longer a French territory, and not even an English one: he was a free, fully-grown nation, despite the child-like innocent face of his that usually deceived the other nations that didn't know him. This, of course, when they managed to see him; the fools were too blind, the most of them at least, to see the true beauty even when it was right in front of their eyes.

But France could and, oh!, his little Mathieu became such a beauty. Not that it wasn't obvious: he already knew this would happen, right from the start. Those violet eyes were too beautiful to belong to someone ugly, and every time they looked at him and those soft pink lips curved to smile at him, brightening the sweet face they were on, he could feel his heart tremble and sink into them.

All of this is what made him finally decide to do what he promised to the other centuries ago. In fact he was now currently knelt in front of the Canadian's door and was waiting for him to open up with a beautiful bouquet of red and white roses and a little box in his pocket.

He still chuckle at the memory of the first time he asked the other out. The northern blushed of a deep shade of red and started laughing nervously, thinking it was a joke. It needed a kiss from the other to believe him, to make him understand that it wasn't like the kisses he used to share whit his friends: a kiss so sweet that the Canadian legs started to tremble so much and his knees went so weak that the Frenchman had to embrace the younger to prevent him from falling.

France was still chuckling when the soft voice of Canada anticipated of some seconds the opening of the door. And before he could say anything, Francis asked: "Veux-tu m'épouser?"

A/N: Meh, just a random fic that popped up in my mind... I had to write it, the idea was too cute. -w-

I hope you liked it! :D I'd appreciate a small comment, if you like... -w-

Thanks for reading!

~Pankeiko