Enjoy this story! I hope it will make you feel happy!
I don't own Hetalia! end /AN/
It wasn't often France visited America. He was a busy empire, still looking to the horizon and expecting to expand his greatness. But, he did own a piece of the New World, so he felt obligated to stop by every so often, if only to try and diffuse England's effects on the poor boy.
This time, America was lifting up his little nightie and staring down at his toes as France walked up. "Bonjour, mon petit, how are you doing?"
The nightie was swiftly pulled down to cover America's feet, and he looked up in startled apprehension. "I don't have anything."
The greeting was a little unusual, but America was practically a baby, so France let it go without trying to correct it. Besides, he wasn't here to parent America; he was here to check up on him and maybe teach him to appreciate good food. He reached out, ruffled the child's bright blonde hair. "Alright, if you say so. What have you been up to?"
"Um, um, I got to have stuff, but sometimes I don't!" America's nonsensical reply was amusing, rather that bothersome, to France. Children really were so funny to listen to. America was probably trying to communicate that he was doing fine, but at the same time trying to cover up whatever it was he had.
"Really? Is that so?" France murmured, rubbing his chin a little. Then he reached out for America's hand. "Do you want me to cook for you tonight? I brought some exquisite spices..."
America, however, refused to give his hand, instead standing there resolutely and holding down the edges of his nightie. France gave a sigh, and settled down next to him, reminding himself that they were just travel clothes and it was okay to dirty them a little. "Alright, what are you hiding? I promise I won't take it, or spank you, or yell at you, okay?"
"Well, it's just, it's mine," America whined, as though France had just said to hand it over. He gave a little shake, lower lip sticking out in a pout.
"America, I said I wouldn't take it. Just show me, okay?" France was starting to get curious as to what exactly America had on his feet, or otherwise on his person. Little ones could get attached to the strangest things, so this was bound to be interesting.
The child gave another shake, and a few more moments passed before he almost unwillingly lifted the hem of his garment. There, between his toes, were several coins, which France recognised as English pennies.
France's eyebrows raised in surprise, and as he met America's eyes, the child's face contorted into a worried, fiercely protective look, and he announced, "You can't have any. It's all mine, England gave it to me to keep!"
There was only momentary silence before France broke out laughing, first merely a chuckle before it bloomed into a fully body spasm. America watched him like he was some unordinary changeling, turning back into its fairy appearance. It took several moments, and the awareness that America was starting to get offended, to curb France's laughter.
"Mon petit, I wouldn't take your money! You're so precious." And with that announcement, France lifted America to take him inside and give him a decent dinner. America's toes clenched around the money, as his fingers more lightly held onto France's coat. "Well, you can have one, cause I have lots of money..."
Laughing some more, France entered the house. America was not a good listener, but he sure was cute.
/AN/ Yes, yes, so short. I hope you enjoyed it anyway! I got the inspiration from a little girl I met who told me she had 'lots of money', and that I could have some if I wanted. She had about ten pennies and maybe a nickel. Kids are so cute.